I never know how to make these kinds of announcements so that they don't seem as though I'm trying for peoples' sympathies or something, but my maternal grandfather -- my Puppy -- passed away this morning. My mom's already down there, and my dad, sister and I will be heading there Friday morning.

It's funny how our minds work in times like these; I'm sad, but I don't think it's really going to hit me until I get down there. At the same time, I'm giggling a bit because Venus is being snuggly, while also whining for me to play with her and running into walls at the same time.

Now if only I wasn't possibly coming down with some kind of stupid chest cold, I might ... well, not feel better, but you know.
In the interests of proving that I really am mentally deficient and don't learn, when I took my mom's car to the gym today, I accidentally left it unlocked. I'd put my purse in the backseat for safekeeping because I couldn't remember the combination to the lock I had with me and didn't want to leave it unattended in the gym.

I really am dumb sometimes.


I know have a perfectly acceptable, valid reason not to trust my coworkers: my credit cards were stolen from my wallet today.

I'm lucky in that I don't use my credit cards often, one of them only twice. The other had a Chapters online thing go through today, so I could've pinpointed that as my last transaction (they also used it at Chapters, sneaky bastards).

I'm also very grateful for 24/7 fraud departments with both Royal VISA and PCF M/C. That meant I didn't have to try to sleep on this, but I do still need to file the police report for the Royal. That'll be a new experience.

I know that it happened at work, since that's the only time my purse is out of my sight, and the first transaction went through this afternoon at 1:46 p.m. Someone really liked spending money at Jean Coutu and Shoppers (both drug stores); they also hit up a bunch of gas stations and one transaction at Chapters.

They also moved my ID out of its holder, but didn't take it. I'm guessing they figured they either couldn't pass for me, or didn't want to apply for new cards in my name or something. I can't explain criminal minds; I'm just glad they weren't especially clever, and that the fraud departments worked as well as they did. At least, I'm saying that now -- we'll see what the next few steps bring.

And finally, one complaint I thought up later -- I bet the bastard who stole my cards misspelled my last name when they signed the slips, too.


I think I'm vaguely annoyed by facebook, and I know I'm severely annoyed by my neighbours, and that's contrasted by my ever-lasting amusement at my cats, and my caring for my friends, so my head is twisted in circles.

I spent way too much money at Sugar Mountain today, and I have a great deal of things I keep thinking I should write about on here and yet don't. This week's highlights:

-> Calling bylaw at 1:00 a.m. Tuesday night to report my neighbours for loud music. I put in earplugs; I could still hear it. I passed out anyhow, probably before the cops came, but I wasn't impressed.

-> Being woken up at 6:20 this morning by some asshole outside of my bedroom window (which happens to be beside the driveway into our underground garage) blaring hardcore rap music so loud I swear to God I was amazed his windows were still intact. As I said to the Pompous Ass earlier when I related this story (which I'm sharing with everyone), I could've murdered everyone in my building, even if they weren't involved in the least.

This was also at the same time that my alarm clock went off, which, added to my natural state of abject stupidity when I first wake up, meant that I did a bunch of confused running around in my bedroom, trying to turn off the obnoxious beeping and simultaneously kill the person outside of my window through sheer force of will, death glare and innate cuteness.

Unfortunately for me, I couldn't see a car outside of my window by the time I figured out how curtains work (tip: they move aside with ease when one uses one's hand), they'd disappeared. Fortunately for them, my window is also sealed shut, which spared me having to figure out how to launch a cat or other heavy projectile at them to properly express my displeasure with their choice of music and time of day and location and proximity to my delicate genius self.

That's what my coworker and I call ourselves constantly; delicate geniuses. Oh, how we mock...

Anyhow, then we have my cats. I will tell people that I believe my cats to be smart. Then my cats do things to try to prove me wrong. Venus opened my pyjama drawer and curled up in it for awhile; this may make her smart if she figured out how to open the drawer on her own, but I'm not sure.

Thena, the one who I usually assume is smart, was being particularly stupid the other night. I had put her out on her harness and leash, which is currently attached to the doorknob (on the inside, of course). I had the door partially open so that Venus, who won't stay out if the door is shut (don't get me started) could also enjoy the nice weather. Thena comes and goes, getting herself woven in the legs of the kitchen table and chairs (which are right by the back door). I don't notice -- she puts her paws up on my knee to get my attention, and I untangle her and boot her out. Smart kitty, one point.

She comes back in and gets herself tangled around a chair again. I sigh and decide to move the chair into my kitchen more (I have a galley kitchen and an eating space; the table is in the latter), and stupid kitty tries to move under the chair to get herself tangled in it again. Negative points for kitty.

Mind you, I was lying on my bed on my stomach last night, using my laptop, and Venus curled up beside me and slept, which was very cute. Thena typically occupies the smallest corner of the bed when the covers are down, I think trying to send me a message about what a horrible person I am for not having the covers straightened out so that she could have more choice in where to sprawl. I don't think she likes lying on them when they're bunched up, because when they're not, she'll lie more in the middle of the bed. I am obviously a terrible person.

I've been having conversations with friends and family lately about house buying, and everyone seems to say the same things about it -- it's good to get into the market, it doesn't have to be a huge or expensive place, you can always rent out a room to someone to help pay the rent, etc. It's scary to think about, because it's such a grown-up step, and at the same time, it's something I do really want to do. I miss having stairs, I miss having a real kitchen, I want to have a more minimalist decor style (which would probably never happen, but seems more possible if I have more space to put everything), I want to have a backyard for friends to hang out in or the kitties to play in... it's just hard to feel ready to take on the expense, especially when I already have debts I want to see reduced.

I'm sure I'll remember the other thousand things I wanted to write about at a later time, but this is my update to hopefully tide over the masses (i.e., the Pompous Ass who wanted me to update). Venus sends her very best belly massage, and has now laid down on my arm, further inhibiting typing. Please send help...!


I seem to have developed a bit of a reputation amongst my various acquaintances as a 'blogger.'

See, sometimes things happen in my life and I write about them on here -- some of you may have noticed this.

Well, lately in a very short period of time, I've had two different people in two completely different situations say to me, "You're going to blog about this, aren't you?"

The first had to do with my observation that I'd never before noticed just how much of a mating dance modern dancing is. I was out at a club recently, and everywhere I looked were little hoochie things grinding into thug things. Maybe I'm getting old and I haven't been out nearly often enough, but I was a bit surprised. Though mostly I laughed.

The second thing had to do with an ex's observations on my nipples. I've said it before, my nipples are fairly responsive. I usually say something like, 'It gets cold out, my nipples get hard, I sneeze, my nipples get hard, I go to the bathroom, my nipples get hard.' I can also add, 'They get talked about by someone other than me, my nipples get hard,' 'cause that's what was happening during this conversation. In sum, depending on what's being done to my body at the time, my nipples get hard in different ways. I'd say that I'd check this out for myself the next time something interesting is going on, but I suspect I'd be way too distracted to pay attention or even particularly care.

So, to satisfy you, there, I've blogged about it.

I had a pretty good weekend, though it started out with me deciding that I'm going to have to move. It's gotten to the point where everyone I meet either reminds me of a friend of mine, an ex-boyfriend, is tied to me already somehow, or is someone I've dated (which goes along well with the preceding comment). At least most of my partings have been on good terms, aside from perhaps the Smooshy or the paramedic, so it's not as though I have to worry about hiding from anyone. And realistically, I wouldn't hide from either of them -- about the only person I'd hide from is UBFM. And that's with damn good reason. Although speaking truthfully, I'd just show him indifference, because that's about all I have left for him.

There are a few things running around in my head right now that I want to discuss, but don't know how. So instead I'll segue awkwardly to another story.

I'm friends with a couple; I've known the boy since high school, and I've met the girl through him and one or two other people. I was out with the girl recently, and she was talking to me about some issues that the couple was having. It's not the first time she's asked me things, and she recently referred to me as her sex therapist, and that I'm cheaper than a regular therapist, which I find sweet and funny.

Anyhow, when I was out at the bar on Saturday, the boy of the couple asked me if she'd spoken to me, and if I hated him or words to that effect. I told him that of course I don't, that I sort of wanted to talk to him about his side but I wasn't sure how he'd feel about it, and a few other things, and then he told me that he was really glad she'd chosen me to speak to about this.

All of this to say, sometimes it's the little admissions or compliments that people make, almost off-handedly, that really mean something. I told a coworker that she had really pretty eyes, and I could tell she was really surprised and pleased. This is a behaviour I need to do more of -- compliments shouldn't be so hard to give, especially when they're genuinely meant.
It's kinda bad and kinda funny when, in an otherwise professional meeting, your coworker (about whom you've heard and have also picked up on a hint or two that said coworker may have kinky leanings) mentions tormenting clients with rubber hoses and something else, including a desk drawer.

My immediate response? "Sounds like a fun Friday evening."

What did I actually do? Start laughing.

Upon noticing my reaction, said coworker simply says, "Don't go there."

I told said coworker after the meeting what I was thinking, and said coworker responded something akin to, "I know, which is why I told you 'Don't go there.'"

I think my reactions on the two occasions I can think of that this has come up may have outed me somewhat. Either that or my usual defense of, "I have friends who are kinky" may be yet protecting me. I don't think said coworker is fooled, though.


And since I'm sharing photos, here's one of me at a house cooling party last week. I was having fun harassing my friend Shawn, and showing off a few stripper moves. For the doubters, I was drinking water all night.

And now, courtesy of Stefan's roommate, a picture of me from yesterday with the new hair and glasses. It's a touch blurry, but what can you do?

If the other pics make it online, I'll share 'em here -- there's at least one decent one that I saw.


It can be crazy and frustrating, the things I get worked up about.

Others are completely justified.

Time for another lobotomy, I think.


I'll be the first to admit that while I'm a good writer, I'm not necessarily a great writer. I think I somehow manage to avoid some of the more common pitfalls, but then again, probably not. Maybe they just don't get pointed out to me, or maybe other people don't see them.

I'm not a great editor, and I tend to self-edit on the fly, especially if I've hand-written something and am transcribing it. As such, a lot of bad probably escapes my view.

Then again, every now and again something catches my eye. I feel bad mocking this one, since I happen to know the person who wrote it, but what the hell:

From CFRA.com:

Soldier Beaten in Morrisburg Bar
Josh Pringle
Tuesday, March 13, 2007

A Canadian soldier who recently returned from Afghanistan is recovering after being in a fight in a Morrisburg bar this weekend.

Master Corporal Collin Fitzgerald says he was jumped from behind, knocked to the ground and repeatedly kicked on Saturday morning.

Fitzgerald tells A-Channel News he doesn't remember being attacked. He says he didn't have any confrontation with anybody in the establishment.

Fitzgerald suffered a broken foot and needed 10 stitches to close a cut.

Ontario Provincial Police have charged a 21-year-old Morrisburg man with aggravated assault.

The OPP continues to investigate.

Fitzgerald was awarded a Medal of Military Valour for braving enemy fire from the Governor General last month.

(Italics added.)

Now, either the GG is extremely pissed with this poor Master Corporal, or the training regimen for GGs is even more impressive than I thought.


In lieu of a real update for now, one which breaks my template:

The Everything Test

There are many different types of tests on the internet today. Personality tests, purity tests, stereotype tests, political tests. But now, there is one test to rule them all.

Traditionally, online tests would ask certain questions about your musical tastes or clothing for a stereotype, your experiences for a purity test, or deep questions for a personality test.We're turning that upside down - all the questions affect all the results, and we've got some innovative results too! Enjoy :-)

You are more logical than emotional, more concerned about self than concerned about others, more atheist than religious, more loner than dependent, more lazy than workaholic, more traditional than rebel, more engineering mind than artistic mind, more cynical than idealist, more leader than follower, and more introverted than extroverted.

As for specific personality traits, you are adventurious (100%), romantic (86%), intellectual (80%), horny (56%).

Punk Rock80%
Old Geezer67%
Life Experience

Your political views would best be described as Liberal, whom you agree with around 50% of the time.
Your attitude toward life best associates you with Upper Class. You make more than 0% of those who have taken this test, and 25% more than the U.S. average.

If your life was a movie, it would be rated R.
By the way, your hottness rank is 67%, hotter than 92% of other test takers.

brought to you by thatsurveysite


I swear to God, I'm going to punch this woman in the neck.


Another short one before the real update: I have a new favourite spam message I've received. This one's subject matter reads "I've got a 12 inch parrot."

*Love it*.
Why do silica gel packets have the phrase "do not eat" in quotation marks?


I believe I may have set a new record low for stupidest things I've ever had an argument about (although the fight I had with my then-best friend in grade six or so over the proper spelling of lose vs. loose probably comes close): last night I had an argument about whether or not I've completely ruled out having someone come on my face as an activity I would allow to happen.

Sometimes I just hate having someone tell me what I would or wouldn't like, I guess.


It amazes me sometimes how utterly clueless some people can be. *sigh*

On another note, everyone shares too much information now and again, or bits and pieces of things you don't really need to know. I had to dig up some information on a media issue from our parental organization. The media relations rep I spoke with said it was another agency, so I called them; in speaking with the rep from that agency, he said he was sure it was our parental organization, and he'd call them and get back to me.

He did, and in giving me the name and phone number of the media relations rep dealing with the issue directly, he mentioned that she was his ex-girlfriend, and then said she was really busy, she wasn't answering the phone, but that she'd get back to me and give me the information I needed, etc.

Now, I tend to give more information than is necessary on a regular basis, and this site is probably proof positive of that, but I thought this was pretty hilarious, so I shared it with two of my coworkers, and we three made a number of jokes at this poor person's expense:

"So, btw, I'm single, and..."
"So, does this mean you think my voice is cute?"
"So, does this affect your career, given that you've already dated one fellow media relations officer...?"
"Do you think it isn't that she's busy, it's just that she's ignoring his calls?"
"So, that's my ex-girlfriend, and btw, we used to have sex..."
"We had sex on my couch several times, and I still have the couch if you wanted to know..."
"The couch matches the drapes..."

Doesn't quite translate as well, but we certainly had fun with it. :)
Every morning as I'm getting ready for work, I listen to the radio. If I hear enough weather reports, eventually one will sink in -- or so I theorize.

Anyhow, this morning on the radio, they were talking to a guy who's planning his third climb up Mount Everest. This trek is to honour a professor with whom he worked who died last year while climbing.

On my way to work, I cross two different fields; one near my apartment, the other near my work. The wind this morning was quite impressive; I heard between 40 and 60km/h. I know I was getting blown around a fair bit, and I'm not a lightweight.

The wind doesn't bother me, exactly; it's when it's blowing down my throat and making it impossible for me to breathe that I have a problem.

I couldn't help but contrast these two things on my walk in this morning, and I have to admit, I felt kinda pathetic.

I've also placed a phone call to the company that holds the URLs that I registered for my two main sites, ichaseboys.com (for this site) and whoresboudoir.com for the WB. I was getting geared up to write a *very* angry email, since this is an issue I've been trying to have resolved since October, but decided I was going to hunt down emails to cc: the world. In the process of doing so, I found that the company has been merged into something else (which probably explains why the redirects that Gord set up were failing), and so I just phoned them directly. They're trying to get dig up the login info for me and are supposed to get back to me today. Then it's just a matter of learning how to do CSS again, and voila -- new site.

My trainer contacted me last week to see about starting to work out again. I texted her back and received no response (this has happened the last few times she and I have communicated, sometimes my fault, sometimes hers). I then had a dream last night that she called me up to meet at the gym and told me she didn't want to have me as a client anymore, so that was a little depressing.

I woke up Saturday morning to Thena under the comforter with me, snuggled up against me. Very cute. She also spent some time at another point sticking her paws in my face, which is always kind of her. Last night when I was trying to sleep, she was curled up in what would be the other person's side of the bed if I shared my bed with someone else. It's good to know she feels so entitled, but I guess it was a nice change from the cubic inch of space she was allowing herself to occupy at the end of the bed the last while. I suppose I should look into making my bed more often, but really... at this point, I'm too lazy to clean my apartment, I just want to move, instead.

Okay, never mind. I just did a scan of the places listed on craigslist, and about the only one I'd like is a good $300 outside of my current price range. Maybe one day I'll get rich and be able to afford a house, but not at this point. *sigh* I am bummed.

Anyhow, the cupcakes seemed to go over well, despite the slightly singeing of the bases. I had saved one for the Pompous Ass and it was a lucky thing I did; that was the only one that made it through the evening.

I also went helmet shopping with the PA on Friday night. He made me put on clothes -- I'd changed into yoga pants and a comfy top, and I had a glass of wine within arms' reach (provided I reached over the kitty), and I was half-tempted to just drink until it was late enough to go to bed. We ended up grabbing some food at Kelsey's after the helmet shopping, then he returned me to home and I forced another glass down my throat and went to bed around 1. I could've gone for another 12 hours of sleep on top of the 9 I got, I'm sure; Stefan and I were passing out on his couch before we left for the party Saturday night, and poor Andrea was going a mile a minute when she called and then showed up. She doesn't always get to socialize much, and I can be the same way when I haven't seen people in awhile, but that night... not so much. :)

But I medicated myself out of my homicidal rage Friday night and then a bit more on Saturday, and that was good. I don't like being angry, but if this hosting company doesn't get back to me by the end of today, I might just be. *grrr* Same if the media doesn't stop calling with ridiculous stuff, though I was able to give one of the calls to my coworker. Some of the others just aren't calling back, which is fine by me; now if I could only get this communications work off my desk so I could turn to the website design, that would be excellent. :P


Thought process from earlier this afternoon:

"Y'know, some girls get romanced with flowers and chocolate. Me, I get nipple clamps and real police handcuffs. Well, eventually I'll get the handcuffs, apparently. It's good being me."

"I wonder -- maybe it's this kind of thing that has people saying I'm intimidating."

"Mind you, it's not like I'm *that* upfront about this kind of thing."

"Okay, so usually not in the first five or ten minutes of meeting me, but... well, sometimes."

"This is probably one of those things that would be too much information from anyone else, but from me, it's par for the course."


Reminds me of the New Year's party I was at this year, actually. I may have already told this story, but I'm too lazy to check.

R and N's place has a half-wall between the kitchen and dining room; basically a support wall for the house and a place for the appliances to plug in, but for all intents and purposes, the two rooms are completely open to one another. I was in the kitchen with female N and male N, and much of the rest of the crew, including R, was in the dining room.

I had arrived about 5-10 minutes before, dropped off my bag and so on within R's field of vision, but he had his back partially turned and so didn't see me.

In the kitchen, I was joking about taking N into the basement to make out with him, and possibly other nonsense.

R spoke up and said: "Jen, I didn't know you were here, but as soon as I heard "making out in the basement, I knew."

Yeah, it would seem I have a reputation. :P

Stefan's roommate T also said a few weeks ago that he liked when I was over, because I always had a story to tell, and many of them were sexual and/or shocking. Go me. :)

Anyhow, the cupcakes I made are cooling on the counter (chocolate with caramel creamcheese and chocolate chip topping; I'll let you know how they go), and I need a shower. Anyone who can come up with an idea for the next awesome gift for me may get invited to join in (no, I don't expect to receive any of these). ;)