Holy Basil, Batman!

Have I mentioned previously that I have a touch of the crazy? (My mom gets SO mad when I say things like that) I do. I have anxiety and mild panic disorder (read: freak out disease).

I have been on and off the prescriptions meds. I prefer not to take any more meds than I have to so when I feel okay I go off them (under Dr's supervision, I am not that crazy).

Most recently I went on Lexapro in 2007 (the year of the suck*) and have been off of it since early this year. With all the stress of moving my anxiety has been running high. I saw a magazine blurb about Holy Basil which is good for anxiety. The next time Chris and I went to the health food store to buy cat food - did you doubt that Fat Boogas eats better than us? - I got a bottle.

I took it on Monday and my friends had a good giggle about my hippy tendencies. We went to lunch and the waiter over filled someones tea, giggled about it and left. Then I got the giggles. All week all we can do is talk about how over giddy people must be on the Holy Basil.
Also, the bottle says to take it with warm water. My friend says this is because you take it with bong water which is already warm.

I can't really say that I feel better but I did stand in line for 3 hours for a midnight showing of New Moon and didn't mace a single 15 year old. That should be proof enough.

*My husband always makes mention when I call 2007 the year of the suck that we got engaged that year. I remind him that he pushed back his proposal plans two times because people in my family kept dying.

I found out that November is like blog everyday month. It was half over when I found out. I thought about boycotting and not blogging at all but then I had something to talk about. I give up.

It's on like Donkey Kong

I admit that I don't know what that means. My friend just explained that it's like how when you play Donkey Kong the Monkey throws a lot of shit at you while you are trying to save the Princess and stuff. That is to say that I am getting a lot of shit thrown at me. That is a true statement.

We have officially decided to move to Owensboro. In December. I just resigned my job effective on December 11. It's on like Donkey Kong.

Also, please buy my house. Zillow.com (Jen's House)

Snuggie Pub Crawl

On October 17, I participated in the Knoxville Snuggie Pub Crawl. It started with an idea on Twitter. Then an event was created on Facebook (this is where I RSVP'd and my posse got on board). Soon it was phenomenon. Why do it? Because sometimes adults need to get out and be silly. As Seen on TV silly.

I lucked out and to make up for my crappy birthday, my friend bought me a pink Snuggie and a bedazzler! (not a real bedazzler a GeMagic).

I had 6 friends who weren't using Twitter (at that time, we converted 2) so I decided even if it was hoax or no one else showed up we would have a great time. But people came out. News media, marketing professional, lawyers, real estate agents, moms, dads, students... what did we have in common? Snuggies and drinking. It doesn't get much better than that.

It was friend who unfortunately got sick and couldn't come whom suggested that we carry our free book lights.

Now I got Tweeps (Twitter+Peeps) that I know in real life and can't wait for the next Tweet-up. I am already hooking up with Tweeps in Owensboro for when this move does finally come.

Read an article about the Pub Crawl by my tweep, Laura Bower

See us on Snuggie sightings!

How I almost didn't get to Mexico

So, Chris and I just got back from Mexico. Which is a miracle since we almost didn't get there multiple times. We were scheduled to leave on Sunday. Everything was packed and I was cleaning the coffee pot before we started dinner on Saturday night. Out of no where Chris looked at me and said, " where are the passports?" I panicked and ran for mine and then looked at Chris and I knew the answer but I asked him, "Where is yours?" I am not sure if he had realized until I asked, the whole thing is a blur. "Did you get it from the bank?"

See we usually keep them both in the safe deposit box but I had only recently had mine renewed with my new last name and since our trip was in less than 2 months, I never took it bad. The really bad part is that 3 days before Chris had been to the bank to return our marriage certificate to the box. I immediately burst into tears and called our travel agent (as I told my mother, if I can cry during a Disney Channel Original Movie, I can cry for this). There was nothing she could do to get our trip moved but luckily we took out insurance so we cancelled the first trip and rebooked for Tuesday. I made Chris call our friends who were going with us to tell them we wouldn't be joining them for two days. I couldn't deal. Since we were rebooked I got my act together and felt okay.

When the bank opened Monday morning, Chris was there. Tuesday we boarded our plan promptly at 7:15 am. The pilot announced we were cleared to take off at 8:30! (I wish there was such a thing as capital numbers). Our flight for Cancun was leaving at 9:41 and by my calculations we weren't going to make it. When the plane landed we ran. I mean I RAN! and I don't run. Chris confessed that I made it a lot farther than he thought I would. And........we didn't make it. Barely. By minutes.

We got rerouted through Dallas to Cancun (yes, that is one more plane that we had planned). We would also be arriving at 4pm rather than 12 with another tight connection. I was on that sort of verge of tears the whole rest of the way because my nerves were so fried. We arrived and NO LUGGAGE.

Once we finally got to the hotel and met with our friends, all I could keep saying was, "We'll

decide what we are doing once we get our luggage. I had a swimsuit in the bag but only jeans and it was 90+ degrees so I wouldn't be going anywhere besides the pool.

Chris and I had taken a shower and were wearing our complimentary bathrobes and the bellboy called to say he had our luggage. He got a good laugh when we saw how badly we needed it (they were very short robes)!

From then on everything was perfect.

I am so the crazy American Tourist

Look at those rockin' tan lines.

And on a side note, even though I drank my weigh in Pina Coladas and had churros for breakfast, I only gained 2 pounds. Pretty awesome. Now back to the grind.

The Bus

I ride the bus to work. I first started this when gas prices were really high then not long after I was in an accident that totalled my husbands car. We only had one car for a few weeks and then ended up with my Pathfinder, Helga, who drinks a lot. So I have been on the bus since March of 2008. I am spoiled by it. I get to drink my coffee, reader my blogs and then get dropped off and picked up directly in front of my building. BUT there is a stigma attached with the bus.

Yesterday I was in Target with a friend. We were looking at the new trend in finger tip less gloves. I said, "Would I look crazy if I got these to wear on the bus?" (so I can iPhone and have warm hands) My friend said, "Yes" I made a sad face and she followed up, "Only if you wear them on the bus. If you wore them other places, you wouldn't look crazy. People could see you had a purse and stuff and aren't homeless." That made me laugh. I like that the qualification for not being homeless is having a purse.

This morning a lady coughed on the bus and I thought to myself OMG Typhus (I am not sure what this is), I bet if she had coughed in a restaurant I would not have panicked. On the bus it is a different story.

And 2 other things. If you want awesome glove or arm warmers check out www.etsy.com and you should try to ride the bus where you live. You mind end up like me and love it. Last week I had to drive to work and was very upset about it.

The Produce Beagle

My husband, Chris if you missed it, is from New Zealand. It is tiny island nation that is sort of like Australia's fat cousin. Everyone can remember Australia and facts about it but no one remembers New Zealand for anything except being close to Australia (and Lord of the Rings).
Since I have been to New Zealand, I think this is sad because it is really one of the most spectacular places I have ever seen.

Today my friend got a call from animal control. Her neighbor complained that her beagle was out of his pen. I am glad someone brought this to her attention. I mean have you seen Snoopy? The dog has a war plane in his dog house. And my friend's beagle? Named Maverick. She is just lucky he hasn't shot anyone.

Anyway, all this talk of beagles made me think of The Produce Beagle. When you come through US Customs or Mexico Customs or most places where they "check you". There is a German Shepard or Doberman who sniffs your luggage and checks for drugs of the illegal kind. New Zealand on the other hand is not concerned with drugs (Hello! The home of bungee jumping and zorbing, stoned people fuel their economy) but with produce. The number one industry in New Zealand is agriculture and the worst thing that could happen to them is for you to bring a rotten apple with some exotic disease into their country. So just like in the states a dog comes and sniffs your luggage but it's a beagle.
I watched him bust a girl with a banana in her purse. He just walked over and stood beside her bag. The agent came up and asked her if she had any produce. She opened her purse and gave the agent a half eaten banana in a ziploc. The agent then took it to the fruit bin. Once she threw it away, the dog who had been so calm got all excited to get his treat for doing a good job. It was too cute. I have found my next career. I want to be the lady who handles the produce Beagle.

Reprised from my travel blog Jen and Chris go to New Zealand which includes the best picture of my husband drunk in a paisley shirt evah!

It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to

So it was just my birthday. I'm 29 (because I know that you wanted to know). My birthday this year was totally lackluster.

1) It was a Tuesday
2) I was depressed (not about my birthday)

Anyway, it got me thinking about my best and worst birthdays.

Worst - 19. Nothing happened. I think my roommate got me a cake at the store but that was it. No going out, no fun time, maybe a present from my mom.

Best - 23. So Hurricane hmm, remember to google this Isabel was going to hit the Virginia Coast and since my best friends parents lived on Long Island (Isabel target #2) she evacuated herself to Knoxville. She always said it would take a Hurricane to get to Knoxville and it did.

Now I don't know how or why we decided I needed to have a monkey themed 23rd birthday party (drink much?) but we did. We printed out lots of pictures of monkeys and posted them up in my apartment. We also bought drink mixers and replaced all the recommended liquors with 99 bananas. That's right 99 bananas IN EVERYTHING! You could have a cosmo-monkey or a slut monkey or a monkeys naval.

I recall a few things about that night. I was quitting smoking because I said I wouldn't smoke past graduation, I recall this caused me to act out. I do know I wore my door wreath on my head at some point. I also bit a guy on the ankle.

See I was getting my MBA and my laptop was out and my friend (a classmate) was on it chatting with another classmate and pretending to be me. I tried to stop him and he put his hand on my head and smooshed me to the floor (yeah, you try to fight someone after you've had 97 of the 99 bananas) and so since I was down there I made a strategic move and bit his ankle. This is the only incident in my adult life that I have bit someone, I am much more of a slapper. Anyway, once you bite someone's ankle there is really no competing with that.


What is your best/worst birthday story?