Toilets and Blog Awards (and is there really much difference?)

I've been sick.  Like laying-sprawled-out-on-the-bathroom-floor-with-a-bucket-and-a-crucifix sick.

It hit me like a piano on Wile. E. Coyote Monday afternoon.  One minute I was watching People's Court and cranking out work emails, and the next minute I...was...SICK.  (And - NO - snide commenters, it wasn't People's Court that made me sick.  I will hear no blasphemy against People's Court!)

I spent most of Monday night on the floor of my bathroom with, like, nine comforters, trying to keep warm and yet remain within hurling distance of the toilet.

And, man, I really need to clean behind the toilet.

I managed to crawl into bed sometime Tuesday morning, just in time for the construction workers to start drilling into the wall three feet from my bed.

Now I live in a newish building.  But for some reason the company that owns the building has decided that it was improperly constructed and is now rotting because of water damage and will probably fall in on itself during the next large wind storm so they need to demolish all of our balconies and rebuild them or something like that.

I don't understand it either.  I just know that every morning at 7:58, workers show up on the scaffold outside my bedroom and start pounding things and drilling things and yelling at each other in Spanish.

And I really wish that after four years of high school Spanish, I could understand more than "biblioteca" and "cerveza".  It could be so much more entertaining if I knew what they were yelling.  Or not.  Who knows?

It's hard to be pissed when you're sick, but I was pissed.  So I called the "resident liaison" for the apartment management company.

Me:  I am sick...like, really really sick.  And the workers are pounding on the walls and every time they pound on the walls I need to hurl again.  Can you please ask the workers if they can work on a different part of the building today?  Pleaaaaaaaaase.

Him:  Well, I'd like to be able to do that for you but we are on a very tight construction schedule.

Me:  Sir, I don't really give a shit about your construction schedule.  I only care that I'm sick and I want to be in my bed under exactly 19 blankets.  And I want it to be dark.  And I want it to be quiet.  Very very quiet.

Him:  I guess we could offer you one of our empty apartments in one of the other buildings.  It's furnished and it would be quiet there.

Me:  Um.  No, no.  I don't want to vomit in somebody else's toilet.  I want to vomit in MY toilet.

Him:  Oh.  Well, we're on a very tight construction schedule.

I hung up on him.  I buried my head under all 19 blankets, tried to ignore the chainsaw right outside my bedroom window, and dreamt of removing scaffolding screws.

I'm more or less back among the living, but because I had to pay my respects for many days to the porcelian goddess, I have not been able to properly respond to Suldog's "award".

Yes, Mr. "IHATEAWARDS" Suldog gave me a "Versatile Blogger" award or some shit.  I think he either ran out of things to write about or just really hates me.

Bad Award

Those of you who have been with me for awhile know that I'm not such a big fan of awards either.  I appreciate the sentiment, but, really, what's the point.  It's like proudly displaying your 4th place bowling trophy when there were only 4 teams.  

And I'm not versatile.  Versatile means to be able to do many things competently.  I can't even do one thing competently.

Well, except vomit.  I found out that I do that pretty well.

But because I find Suldog somewhat tolerable, I'll abide by some of his rules.  I think I had to link back to him (check), list some things about myself (see below), and pass the award to some other poor slobs (not gonna happen).

Random facts about Jane:

1.  I eat paste.

2.  When I was sick and delirious, I needed to call in my daughter's absence at school because she was in Portland with her dad and couldn't come home yet because I was too sick to go and get her at the airport and I so called and left a message on the absence line at her old elementary school instead of her current middle school and then acted all indignant when my ex called and asked why her school was calling him and saying that I didn't call.  I did call!  I just called the wrong school.  No fuckin' perfect attendance this year...thank gawd!

3.  A couple of weekends ago, I stretched out on the couch with a bag of take-out Tai food and watched five straight hours of "Pawn Stars".

4.  I know every word to "Paradise by the Dashboard Light".

5.  I think men will be totally attracted to me when they find out #4.

So, that's it.  

But I don't want to completely kill the award.  So I made a new one.  In honor of Sully's newish teeth.  

And I'm giving it back to Suldog.  Cuz I don't want this shit.

Jane punts...and scores a male counterpoint!

So about a week ago, my friend - we'll call him Tommy Traddles - emails me and says something like, "Hey, why no Jane lately?".  And I say, "Because I have school work to do and I can't write Jane until it's done."  And he says, "Screw school work.  Just subscribe to the 10-year grad school plan like I did."  And I say, "You're an idiot.  And if you want to read Jane so bad, why don't you effin' write it."  And he says, "Ok...I will".

And I thought, "Wow, that was easy.  Sucker!"

I also figure that, hey, even Johnny Carson let Joan Rivers fill in once in awhile.

So today Tommy is providing his male counterpoint to my Valentine's Day post.  I should tell you that Tommy and I have known each other since we were kids.  He has pictures of me in bat-winged shirts with rainbows plastered across the front and I have pictures of him sporting Jon Cryer hair.  He is also much more worldly than I, and can tell you all of the best places to go in Europe to drink and/or watch tranny prostitutes.  I keep him around as a friend for these reason specifically.

So, without further ado...here's Joan, er, I mean, Tommy...
____________________________________

After reading Jane's anti-Valentine's Day tirade, I realized that I could probably offer some advice that may help a few of you next year.  For the record, I've never been much of a fan of the holiday, nor have I ever been very good at relationships, although I think I may have stumbled on three key ideas that have helped me out during this tough season.

(1)  The first is the issue with settling.  We seem to be too picky when choosing someone to spend the day with.  Around mid-January, you should really lower your standards.  Issues that are typically show-stoppers, like a curable STD, chronic halitosis, chronic unemployment, or serious psychological issues should be overlooked at the start of the new year.  If the goal is to get some free candy, flowers, and not spend the evening with your cats on February 14th, start looking for next year's special person in new places.  Mr. Right may just be standing on the corner with the "Will Work for Food" sign you pass by every morning on the way to work.  On the 15th, stop returning calls and move.

(2)  The second issue is with communication.  I have always subscribed to the Homer Simpson theory that the problem with relationships is communication - too much communication.  I recently started dating someone who doesn't speak my language.  Adding to the magic is the fact that I don't speak hers'. Before you accuse me of being shallow and only concerned with her looks, let me explain that she does have an ass you can bounce quarters on.

Never mind, that was the shallow part.

The non-shallow part is that I am making an honest attempt to learn her language which really works out well because I do have to listen intently and nod my head every few minutes while I pretend to understand.  From a relationship perspective, she could have serious mental health issues, an irritating personality, or one of the other countless issues people have that cause relationships to end.  I just don't know about any of them, and it is wonderful.  As far as Valentine's Day is concerned, I would highly recommend attending English as a Second Language classes at the start of the New Year to help find that special someone.

(3)  The third issue is phoning it in.  There is really nothing wrong with half-assing something.  I have never been a big fan of the holiday.  Blah, blah, blah crass commercialization, etc., but in reality I am too lazy to actually but much effort into making any relationship work...however, I did learn at an early age that a minimum effort on the 14th typically results in some sexual reward.

I hope my three suggestions have helped some of you develop a game plan to make next year's Valentine's less painful.

I'll see you at the soup kitchen around January 2012.
_______________________________________

Thanks TT.  I'm inherently lazy and I'm sure all four of my readers would love to hear more of your sage advice.

I'm thinking regular punt.

Dear Valentine's Day, Suck it! Love & Kisses, Jane

Ahhh...Valentine's Day.

The holiday most likely to make you feel like an absolute, complete, total wretch.

Even if you are in a relationship, the expectation of the holiday is enough to drive anyone mad.  No matter what you do, it's never enough, is it?

And speaking as a female, it really is all about us.  Valentine's Day is a holiday where, you - the male - must bring us - the females - many presents.  You must make us feel beautiful and special and appreciated.  And face it, with only one day to work with and crazy expectations, only the power of magic Valentine fairies could make us feel beautiful and special and appreciated.

If you bring us chocolate, we won't eat it because it's fattening and will wish that you had given us flowers.  If you bring us flowers, we'll smile but then toss them in a day or two and wish that you had given us jewelry.  And if you bring us jewelry...well, maybe we actually will feel beautiful and special and appreciated...and you'll probably get laid.

And if you're single on Valentine's Day...oh holy hell.  You're faced with constant reminders on television, in the mall, in magazines, online and even in the grocery store of what a lonely loser you are.

Why has one day been set aside in the calendar year specifically to make everybody miserable?

I made the magnificent mistake the other day of watching the movie "Valentine's Day".  I wanted to stick my head in the oven halfway through.

Good thing I don't know how to turn on the oven.

But I'm coping.  I find that if I put on blinders and turn the cynicism up full blast, it makes it much easier.

Last week, I saw roses in the grocery store and felt sad.  Today, I saw roses in the grocery store and thought "what a crap gift...they'll be dead in a dumpster in two days".

Last week, I saw a happy commercial for some "real" couple who met on eHarmony and knew INSTANTLY that they were each other's sole mate and thought "awwww...that's sweet".  Today, I saw the same commercial and thought "I bet after they made that commercial they started having wicked fights about the fact that he only wants Kool-Aid instead of wine with dinner and won't move in with her because he would 'miss Mom'".

Last week, I saw a website that was featuring a stunning diamond necklace and thought "wow, that would be an amazing Valentine gift".  Today, I surfed by the same site and thought "wow, that would be an amazing Valentine gift".

Hey, everybody has a price.

I'm not completely alone in my cynicism.  The Princess has a crush on a 12-year old "older man", who apparently doesn't know that she is alive.  She saw the same flowers today in the grocery store and said "flowers are stupid".

We bumped fists.  Solidarity!

So on Valentine's Day, I'm going to grit my teeth, ignore the fuss and take the Princess out to dinner.

And maybe, just maybe, hope a little that there is love out there somewhere.

XOXO