Voyeurs

Ever feel guilty about reading someone's blog? It's an online journal, so basically you are reading someone's diary. I see how many people read my pathetic little blog, it kind of freaks me out. All my personal thoughts for anyone in the internet world to read... So, needless to say, there won't be any indentifying information shared here. No last names, etc. It's actually already VERY easy to find me, just type my name in Google and the entire first page is me. So if someone is so inclined, they could easily find my phone number and call me at 3 am to inquire the color of my panties, I am just not going to make it any easier than it already is.

I have had my share of pyscho's, I do believe it is someone else's turn. When I was in the third grade a kid named Alex tripped me and I sprained my wrist, I had to wear this wierd metal brace thingie for awhile, after I didn't want to give him a kiss. When I was in the fourth grade there was a boy named Brian in my class, who punched me in the face when I told him that I didn't like him back. There have been other things, like when I was living in Germany there was this wierd guy named Mike that would follow me around. I always tried to be nice to him because I felt sorry for him, but apparently one day I didn't say hello to him and he went ballistic. He would bang on my door in the middle of the night, throw rocks at my window and even went so far as to write some not-so-nice things about me on MY DOOR with a Sharpie. He was banned from base, but still found time to harass me. Fun.

There's more, but I will spare you the drama. I will just say that people wonder why I am so screwed up, well there's the tip of that iceberg!

-Janett

Stupid girl

Oh, I forgot to update with the whole car situation. I still don't have it back. Yes, it is in fact going on 5 weeks now. I called the dealership today and was told that they found a "dent" in my rear quarter panel while the car was in paint, and that they had to take it out of paint, fix the dent, and now it was waiting to go back into paint.

Riiiiiiight. The only problem with that is that BOTH rear panels were replaced. Yes, that's right, both of them. So how exactly is there a dent? When I called them on it, I was told it was actually the door, and that it must have been there before the accident. Umm, I am pretty sure that my <72 hour old car didn't have any dents in the door. I am quite sure that I would have noticed that. So then they said, well it was probably from the towing, and not to worry, that they weren't going to charge me for it. I stopped myself, and actually thought about my response before I opened my mouth (gasp!), and very calmly replied that I have DRIVEN the freaking car there MYSELF.

Oy.

FYI. If you have a friend that has her brand new car wrecked, and she is upset about not getting it back after 5 weeks, DO NOT (under any circumstances!!!) look at her and say, "well you have a rental, what's the big deal?". It just makes said friend want to stick her pen in your hand.

In Love and War

It's been a few days, I know. I have been busy and am coming to realize that this picture a day thing just isn't going to work. Ha, I should have seen that one coming! Anyway, I am not going to worry about it and just post whenever I have time.

I was talking to a friend of mine at work (hi SXJ!) and we were discussing basic dating requirements. I mean, like the bare minimum.

There are the 3 basic ones that any self-respecting girl should abide by:

1. Guy has to be gainfully employed, and no, Burger King doesn't count.

2. Guy must not live at home with parents. And, in case you were wondering, the basement is STILL your Mommy's house. Grow up and move out.

3. No felony records, please! There are enough losers around without introducing that ever enticing criminal element.

That's about it really, but if I was being greedy (and honest) there are things I would *prefer. Height, for instance. At 5'7" I don't really think it's too much to ask for a guy to be taller than me. It's a silly thing that I can't get past, I am just SUCH a girl. I need a big strong guy, you know like in the trashy romance novels. Okay, not really, but I really do need those extra inches. I also would prefer have a really nice guy than to have a really hot one. I would prefer for a guy tell me that I was smart over telling me I was pretty. I would prefer to see the bats than go out to dinner. I would prefer to look at art than go out to a club.

Okay, enough about me...

-Janett

Forgiveness and Mercy

There are things that cannot be forgiven, at least there are things that I can't imagine being forgiveable. If you look up the definition of the word forgive, you will find this:

To excuse for a fault or an offense; pardon.

Synonyms: forgive, pardon, excuse, condone
These verbs mean to refrain from imposing punishment on an offender or demanding satisfaction for an offense. The first three can be used as conventional ways of offering apology. More strictly, to forgive is to grant pardon without harboring resentment.

I hear people saying that you have to forgive in order to move on with your life, that you can't let someone have "control" over you by carrying around anger towards them. Maybe forgiveness means different things to different people, but to me personally, forgiveness is moving past something. Forgiveness is putting a situation out of your mind, getting past it and not looking back. So, I say again, there are some things that are unforgiveable. I don't see anger as a form of control, I see it as a healthy response. Anger can be just as good as it can be bad. I would rather be angry than numb. Anger can motivate, numbness is stagnant.

Want an example? Crimes against children. In my mind people that hurt children deserve no mercy. None. Nothing is more innocent than a child, you take that away and they can never have it back. Unforgiveable. Whenever I hear about a family forgiving someone that has hurt their child, and in particular sexually abused/murdered a child, it shocks the holy heck out of me. I cannot fathom it.

I get letting go of anger after a certain point, I get not dwelling and trying to move forward. But true forgiveness? No, I don't get that.

-Janett

Using Google for evil

I just realized that my Unkymood has been tired for all of my previous posts, yikes. Maybe I do need that Paxil after all. Ü  I didn't post yesterday because I didn't get home until after 9 and forgot that both of my camera batteries needed to be charged. So needless to say, there is no picture of the day for yesterday. I did have an idea for a picture I wanted to take, so maybe I will get that done this weekend...

I had lunch at this hole-in-the-wall Mediterranean place today with one of my co-workers, we go there whenever one of us is having a bad day. Surprisingly enough, today it wasn't me! He just gave me a look from across the lab, and said, "1 o'clock, parking lot". Ha. That put me in an even better mood, I mean who doesn't love gyros? Yum.

Anyway, the reason for my good mood is that I might get my car back tomorrow! I am so excited. For anyone that doesn't know, I bought a new car and it was wrecked less than 72 hours later. I cried like a lunatic that entire day. It's been almost a month since the accident, which by the way, wasn't my fault so I don't want to hear any smarmy comments about women drivers, and I am so ready to be driving my own car again.

Oh, and here's a little PSA for all you men out there. Google is an amazing thing. Google knows all, so don't use your real name to post on message boards about how the girl you are seeing is cold-hearted. Okay? Be smarter.

-Janett

Dog days of summer

It was a very long day, I didn't get off of work until 7 pm... This has been happening a lot the last few weeks. It's not so much physically exhausting as it is mentally exhausting. Sigh. Being a grown-up kinda sucks today.

So here is my unispired picture for the day. Meet Scarlett, my pooch. She's a mutt, and loves to pretend like she doesn't get any lovin'. She actually growls at me until I pet her, and then mopes around like a man if I don't give her a treat. She's lucky she's cute.

-Janett

Pepto Pink and little yellow cars

I have a ton of stuff to do in the next few months and it makes me nervous. I tend to be a numero uno procrastinator, and even when I set deadlines for myself I am always scrambling at the last minute. Character flaw, I guess. Take for example needing to burn pictures from my hard drive, I take a gazillion pictures and they use up an incredible amount of space. It always takes me two days to get it done, so everytime I finish I tell myself, Okay, I am going to do this weekly. No more 27 dics at a time. I am sooo done with that. Humph, guess what I was doing last weekend? Yeah.

So moving sucks, no doubt about it. I still have boxes that were never unpacked from two years ago. I am so tempted to toss them out without seeing what's in them. I know I won't though, I have to see what's inside. Because maybe I will use it for something. You know, one day.

Anyway, I was walking outside this evening looking for something to photograph, and what do I see? About 17 police cars with their lights flashing surrounding a little yellow car. I am thinking they must have tried to pull him over on the main street and he pulled into my community. They are screaming at him in Spanish, and I am starting to stress a little bit. I NEED to get *just past them, there are some flowers I wanted to take pictures of. I am thinking, how can I look inconspicious? In my bright pink pepto bismol scrubs that I hadn't had time to change out of. Errr, well, that I was too lazy to change out of.

Maybe if I don't make eye contact, no one will notice me. Or if I just look off to the side while I walk past. The yelling gets louder, and since I can't understand what they are saying I start to think maybe they are yelling at me. Like, "get away, you stupid white girl", although I am pretty sure I would have recognized 'gringa'. I debate calling up a friend of mine to translate as I get closer. Just a few more feet... Please, don't let me get shot... I just want to take some pictures.

So as I reach the point of no return it all ends rather anticlimatically, with the guy getting back in his little yellow car and making a u-turn to get back out on the main road. The cops are staring at me though, and I get that nervous giggle going. You know, tee hee heee. Tee hee. One kind of nods at me while hitching up his pants and they get back in their cars. Crisis averted.

So after all that, the flowers pretty much sucked, but I had to get a picture of something. So here you go, a tunnel. More like the drainage ditch, but tunnel sounds better.

-Janett

*Oh, and by 17 cop cars, I really meant 2.

A Modern Day Miracle: Clorox Ready Wipes

There is little in life that makes me as gleeful as killing germs. Germs freak me out, I mean REALLY, REALLY freak me out. I have nightmares about sepsis and MRSA. Really. Really, really. I know, I know there are drugs for people like me. In fact, there is a bottle of prescription Paxil in front of me. I am not taking though, because there's nothing wrong with me. Nothing. So I get a little obsessive, nothing wrong with that. OC is fine, OCD not so much.

Picture me at the gym, 24 hour fitness off 183 and Braker. I am trying to get back in shape, getting out of the Army has not been kind to my rear end. I get on the elliptical machine and try not to imagine the hundreds of people that have sweated all over this thing before me. I can literally feel their sweaty germs merging with my epithelial cells. I swear. I have to tell myself to relax, "Come on Janett, breathe. Just breathe. In. Out.  Relax. Don't obsess. Don't think. Breathe".

The whole not thinking thing isn't working so well, in fact I am pretty sure that I think too much. Entirely too much. It's not good for me, and I have got to figure something else out. Ahhh, and it comes to me... Disinfect the machines! Brilliant! So there you have it, Clorox Ready Wipes: A Modern Day Miracle.

-Janett

I hate this city, sung to the tune of "We built this city" by J. Starship.

Crazy woman-type rant ahead: proceed with caution.

Texas. Austin, Texas. Bleh.

What's to love? It's hot and humid, the traffic sucks and, of course, it takes forever to get anywhere; making the sucky traffic even suckier. I don't care if suckier isn't a word, cause that's the kind of mood I am in. Back to the subject at hand...at least it's not stereotypically Texas, no 10 gallon hats and spurs. Sometimes I forget that I do *actually* live in this great state, well until someone with a particularly obnoxious accent says something within earshot. If I never hear "ya'll" again I will live a blessed life. "Ya'll" is NOT A FREAKING WORD! Okay, so neither is suckier, you got me there.

So why do I live here? Circumstance, i.e. the sum of determining factors beyond willful control. How much of a person's happiness can be based/blamed on their surroundings? Are there people that can be happy anywhere, regardless of circumstance? I am sure that there are, I, however, I am not one of them. Of course, I don't blame it ALL on Austin, mostly just those sticky circumstances that brought me here in the first place. Speaking of sticky, it's 91 degrees today and the humidity is 47%. Not bad for June, although I am dreading August and September.

It is beautiful here, I will give Austin that. Gorgeous, even. Lots of cool things to photograph, which makes me happy. So I am going to try and be happier while I am stuck here, and make it a point to photograph something everyday. Nothing in particular, just whatever catches my eye.

Here's an oldie I took while downtown a few months ago with my good friend W., who incidently shares my passion (errr... obsession) for photography, but not so much my hatred of this city we call home.

-Janett