The Jackie Blog

I always expect big things to happen when I’m gone.

I left work Thursday morning and didn’t fully get back to reality until Tuesday.  No Interwebz, no phone, no non-face contact with humans of any sort.  I feared turning my phone back on because I was certain I’d be flooded with a monsoon of texts and voicemails.  The thought of checking my email almost paralyzed me for fear I’d have too many things to respond to and too many opportunities missed.

I was totally wrong.

Apparently, I’m not as popular as I would like to believe.  After 4 straight days of ignoring society, society made it clear that it doesn’t care if I don’t want to be a part of it.  Except for my mom.  Note to self: never venture into the woods to disconnect from society without first warning your mother. 

My work email, however, was a different issue entirely.  I was greeted by 60 emails in my inbox, all crying for attention.  My personal email? Thirteen.   That may seem like a decent amount, but I”m a Groupon and LivingSocial nut.  Subtract one email a day for both of those and you get 5 remaining. One was from mint.com and another was some kind of magazine email newsletter that I delete every single time because I don’t feel like clicking unsubscribe.

I should fix that obvious display of laziness.

Throw in a couple Facebook notifications, and all I had left was a big, sloppy pile of loser. 

I don’t know what I expected.  In fact my email is really just a place where I sign up to have specific things sold to me.  I don’t check in with people or write anyone.  I have one pen pal who drops me a line every three months or so (perfect for my type) and that about does it.  Even my own family doesn’t get back to me when I write.  

Facebook, however, greeted me like a warm puppy.  And then I realized – I don’t need to check my email nearly as often as I do.  I don’t know why I’m pouring over emails that are just companies showing me things I told them I like when Facebook is the place where people talk to me.  In fact, when I saw something I liked on the Internet last week, I immediately linked it to Dave’s Facebook wall instead of emailing it to him.  I could probably abstain from email for an entire week and pull out half an email I actually want to read instead of clicking “Mark As Read” and pretending I did.

Occasionally I’ll mark something with a star or flag that I intend to follow up on later, but let’s face it: I never do.  My email inbox is nothing but a bucket of starred and flagged good intentions.

Maybe I’ll go through them all this week and see what it is I wanted to accomplish a few months ago when I marked them.  I could have plans to conquer the world in there but I just never got around to the follow-up.

This could be epic. ♣

Just you wait.

Tags: 365 Project, Humor, life, musings, postaday2011

Yesterday I decided to go up the street from work and get my nails did.

This is epic.  I just recently acquired  my talons.   Never, ever have I ever in the past gone to have a manicure with my own nails.  I usually show up with irritated little nubs and ask them to glue fake ones on and slather it in paste and shellac until they don’t even look like they belong to a human.

Then I spend the rest of the week going about daily tasks with an added dose of difficulty.  Buttoning pants, typing, putting in contacts… how do beautiful people accomplish anything?  I usually get enraged and begin to rip off said fake talons within a few short days, throwing my money down the trash and completely ruining my once-unimpressive, now-torn-up-and-disturbing nails. But yesterday I went in to the nail place up the street from work and asked for a French Manicure.

Doesn’t that sound fancy?  I have long enough nails to ask for French things.  That’s sexy.

Actually, there’s nothing at all sexy about it and going into nail salons in general stresses me out.  For one, there’s usually so many women gathered in one place, gabbing about women things that estrogen is dripping down the walls.  Two, I can’t for the life of me understand what the technicians are saying.  Even if English is their first language, I can’t get a sense of anything while their mouths are blocked by the face masks.   And it would be one thing if I just had to get through explaining what I wanted, but then they try to make my experience better by talking to me during the services, and I just have absolutely no idea what’s being said.  I like to contribute, and so I try.  I tend to keep responses general and ambiguous.  You know, something that could pretty much be an appropriate response to anything.   I nod and smile and say things like “Yeah, I know what you mean!”, “Right…”, and the all-encompassing “Yeah.”

During my most recent experience, the gentleman who was kind enough to whip my new nails into something presentable saw something on T.V. that got him excited and began to mumble on underneath his face mask, looking at me every so often for my enthusiastic confirmation.

He monologued for 5 minutes.

Five minutes is a long time to wait out not knowing what the hell someone is talking about.  There are a thousand things I could be unknowingly agreeing to with all my “rights” and “yeahs”.   He could’ve sold me a broken down inn down the street.  He could have taken me for a prostitute.  He could have told me he was going to go punch a baby in the face and I would have just kept nodding on, waiting for the pain to end.

Luckily, an update for “Dancing with the Stars” came on  the television, and it trumped whatever was previously on his mind.  With rapt attention, he stared ahead, getting the low-down on what was to be expected from the season finale.

I would have been able to contribute to the conversation he was about to have with himself if only I had T.V. like every other American ever.

But I don’t.

Note to self: watch T.V., practice “yes” phrases, then go get nails done. ♣

Tags: 365 Project, Humor, life, musings, postaday2011

Last  night I had one of those moments when you remember something embarrassing about yourself that you’d successfully repressed for years.  And I decided I would do you all the service of sharing it.

After all, you tune in time and time again.  I should reward you with some of my dark, inner secrets on occassion.

I actually have decided to use this opportunity to reveal a number of embarrassing factoids about myself.   We’re approaching 6 months together and you can consider it a sort of early half-anniversary gift.  You’re welcome.

1)  I had a teddy bear that wore a nightcap and long pajamas that I named Sherman.  When you pushed his paw, he sang a really lame song for which the lyrics were something like “Dream with me and sleep.  Bedtime is a magical time.”  Actually, that’s exactly what they were.  My older brothers devastated me one day by hanging him from my bedroom ceiling by a noose for me to discover when I flicked on the lights.

2) I was in love with an audiotape that came in a little pink box and was something about a girl and her raincoat.  It was narrated by Barbara Bush.  I played it over, and over, and over.

3) I was a Math 24 champion in my elementary school.  I was so super nerdy and intense about it that when I got to 6th grade no one would go against me to challenge the seat to go to the semi-finals. *Pushes up glasses*

4) When I was in elementary school, my friend and I used to do what we called “rain dances”, by stomping our feet in wild tribal-like dances and screaming ridiculous songs and nondescript noises and squawks.  When it finally rained, even if it was the next day, we basked in our obvious success.

5) My first cassette ever was a hand-me-down Ace of Base album from my brother.  I read through all the lyrics on the fold-up pamphlet on the inside and corrected them for grammar and spelling with an ink pen.  My brother was not pleased.

And there you are.  Five little slightly embarrassing facts from my past.  In the spirit of giving, what are the chances I can get you to share one in the comments?

C’mon – do it.  It’ll be fun. ♣

Tags: 365 Project, Humor, life, musings, postaday2011