Mind the Gap

Since the beginning of Jeanna, I’ve had reoccurring nightmares about bridges. They started out really weird with monsters in costumes, my dad in a wheelchair and some sort of Loch Ness Monster character in the water. There was always a bridge that I had to cross, and I usually ended up falling in the water and couldn’t swim or breathe. In my adult life, occasionally I’ll dream about a really high, super small bridge that I have to drive across, or one that collapsed. To this day, bridges freak me out. Especially creepy ones, like the Vantage bridge in Eastern Washington, which is like a wind tunnel and blows my little red bug across the lanes. I usually drive across a bridge, gripping the steering wheel and holding my breath. I’ve tried to research the meaning of bridges in dreams. I’m not usually one of those “research the meaning of my dreams” hippie frou frou types, but because bridges are ALWAYS coming up, it sort of weirds me out a little bit. Dream experts, if there is such a thing, say:

To dream that you are crossing a bridge, signifies an important decision or a critical junction in your life. This decision will prove to be a positive change with prosperity and wealth in the horizon. Bridges represent a transitional period in your life where you will be moving on to a new stage.

To dream of a run-down bridge, indicates that you should not contemplate any major changes in your life at this time.

To see a bridge collapse in your dream, denotes that you have let a great opportunity pass you by.

I’m not really sure what that all means in relation to my dreams because I don’t remember the exact time I’ve had these dreams and what was occurring in my life; I just know that bridges freak me out. That being said, the bridge collapse in Minneapolis is my worst nightmare come true.

I didn’t think that bridges really did collapse. I just thought it was more of a “if we have a big earthquake we’re screwed” bit. Now, I’m even more freaked out to drive across the impending doom that is the Alaskan Way Viaduct, which I’m forced to take home every day from work, or even now…the Ship Canal bridge, which is the same steel-trussed bridge like the one in Minneapolis, only our bridge is six years older. YIKES!

Looks like I’ll be doing even more breath holding on my commutes around the city…

Currently Feeling: Utterly shy.
Currently Anticipating: Blogger party tonight and Beerfest at Redhook.
Currently Wondering: If anyone can guess my game.

Oh, it just feels so damn good

Today, at lunch, I started thinking about habits and how bizarre they are. We’ve all heard the “Creature of Habit” cliché. Mammals are creatures of habit, cats are creatures of habit, men are creatures of habit, women are creatures of habit, I’m a creature of habit, you’re a creature of habit and reefers habitually smoke marijuana cigarettes.

It’s obvious that habits are part of everything and everyone’s day-to-day existence. If everyone’s life is a series of habits, what are some of mine?

I know that my morning ritual is the same each day. I always get dressed, do my hair and then put on my make-up. And I never stray from this particular morning routine. It’s the same every day. I don’t know if I’m even capable of doing my hair before getting dressed, or putting on make-up before doing my hair. It’s all a very precise process that would make me feel all jumbled up if it were changed.

I LOVE reading on the futon in my living room with my feet propped up on the big pink pillow, and eventually falling into a very satisfying nap.

Every Saturday and Sunday morning I like to eat two fried eggs on top of toast with cinnamon sugar.

And I habitually match my eyeshadow with my shoes with my earrings with my bag.

Then there are the bad habits. Biting nails, smoking, swearing. I do all three.

But, while I’ll disclose a number of habits—weird, bad or good—there’s one that I’m particularly embarrassed of. It has to do with Taco Bell. (The greatest place on Earth besides the Sand Bar.) I don’t eat at the Fourth Meal Haven unless I’m a) very drunk or b) it’s been six months or more. I try to stay far, far away from fast food, but I just can’t give up the Bell. So, since it’s been a month of Sundays since I’ve enjoyed all its greasy gloriousness, I went there for lunch today. I always order the same thing: two soft tacos. Then, I’m incapable of not doing the following habit, which I’ve done since age 8, at minimum:

1) I empty out all the contents of the soft taco
2) I fold the tortilla in half, then half again, making one tortilla triangle
3) I bite all the way around the tortilla until it creates four little separate triangles of tortilla
4) I mix-up all the contents of the soft taco into sort of a salad mixture
5) I spoon one-fourth of the mixture into one of the four little tortilla triangles
6) I roll it up into a mini, bite-size soft taco
7) I eat the mini soft taco roll-up
I repeat steps one through seven until the whole soft taco is gone

It’s by far the strangest thing I do. And I’m actually really, really embarrassed by it. I hate it when anyone sits by me in Taco Bell because I know they’re probably thinking to themselves, “What in the hell is that girl doing? What a weirdo!” I want to sit there, shielding any onlookers from my habit with my arm. Sort of like I’m in 5th grade and someone’s trying to cheat off my Taco Bell wrapper. It makes me feel like that fat woman—the one who really wants to lock herself in a closet and finish an entire container of peanut butter and marshmallow cream—carefully spooning them into her mouth and licking the spoon—so no one will judge her.

I can’t explain it. It’s completely weird and creepy. But, I’ve been doing it for years. It’s just a habit, like everything else in our lives. But one thing about habits is that while some are strange and some are bad, they just feel so damn good, don’t they?

Currently Feeling: Oh geez.
Currently Anticipating: Beerfest for the Redhook outdoor summer movie tomorrow and the Seafair festivities this weekend.
Currently Hating: My inability to express my feelings.

[See my July wrap-up in pics below]

When I Grow Up

Have you ever taken a minute to think about little old ladies?

Weird, I know. But, this was just running through my mind this morning. I walked into work, and there’s a little old lady front desk person who seriously is one of the cutest things ever. She’s really super nice, and has the biggest smile on her face all the time. I want to just let her pinch my cheeks, sit in her kitchen eating neon pink freezer jam spread on melba toast, and wear around my house the slippers she knitted for me.

I starting thinking—how come there are always two different types of old ladies—those who are cute as hell and those who you want to beat with their own cane? Seriously. I’ve never met a middle-of-the-road old lady. It’s either total bliss or total misery.

So, how do you end up on one side, and not the other?

When I worked at J.C. Penny’s Styling Salon (otherwise known as the little old blue-haired ladies’ beauty shop), I dealt with old ladies at the front desk on a daily basis for three years. Some I’d see every Sunday at the same time, and they’d never acknowledge me. It was a brisk little nod and they were off. One even got in my face one day, pointing her finger. Over what? I can’t remember. A lot complained about me. My shirt was too low, or I was rude. I think they just hated me cause I was young and reminded them of what they once was, and aren’t anymore. Who knows. I have no idea what it’s like to be 65. And honestly, I’m not looking forward to it.

But, then there’s was one who came in every week and LOVED me. Her name was Ernie. Every Sunday she’d tell me how beautiful I was, and ask about school, and keep saying, “You’re so pretty.” She wrote me birthday cards. I loved her. How could you not love someone who told you every day that you’re beautiful? I thought she was beautiful. So happy and content. She spread her happiness around to me, a receptionist at a desk that she saw once a week for five minutes. She made me feel good and some days, I’m telling you, I really needed to hear that someone thought I was pretty.

I want to grow up to be just like Ernie.

Currently Feeling: So, so super excited about this crazy idea I have in my head for a story to pitch. It’s going to be good!
Currently Anticipating: Happy hour.
Currently Reading: Lucky. Alice Sebold’s memoir. (Author of The Lovely Bones).

Seek Justice!

I have to say a word about the recent school shooting at Virginia Tech—it’s been on my mind for two days now. I’ve read plays written by the shooter, looked through pictures of the victims, and seen videos that recount the nightmare. The media is going overboard about it, and I’m sure everyone is experiencing “sensational journalism overload” right now. But really, when are we going to stop the media frenzy, and actually work to do something about the school-shooting phenomenon that seems to crop up all over the United States and nowhere else?! It seems the issue at-hand is obvious—when an 18-year-old can walk into a store and buy two guns without any questions asked, here in lies the problem.

I’m so unbelievably sad for the 20+ students, all of whom had incredible dreams and aspirations, which run the gamet from dancing and folk music, to preventing global warming and helping kids in South America. In lieu of the silly burglar-at-my-door situation, I can’t even fathom the insatiable fear of trying to barricade a door or jump out a window to escape bullets. I don’t ever want to think, “my mom and dad…and my future…and I’ll never be able to have a family…I never told this person I loved them, and I’m sorry…” Can you imagine the thoughts that were running through these students’ heads at their final hour?

The world is full of incredible injustices, most of which never get easier for me to swallow. I’m so fortunate; sometimes it scares me. I could easily have been the child living in fear in Afghanistan, or forced to prostitution in India, or starving and homeless without parents in some other location worldwide…. But, here I am, generally healthy, well fed, living in a beautiful apartment with all the possessions I’ve wanted, and friends and family that always love and support me. The anger, hurt and suffering of the world often is hard to understand, but it makes me feel slightly better when there’s motivation for change, people working for a better co-existence, and the fortunate coming together to aid the unfortunate.

I need this injustice to have a better cause. I need our nation to start doing something to change. I need to feel that someday, when I have children and they leave my house in the morning for school, or travel across the nation to better their lives, I won’t have to live in fear of a phone call that says, “I’m sorry. They won’t be coming home today.”

I’ll end with a little personal mantra I often include in documents I write for work. I’ll leave you to guess where it comes from:

Learn to do right!
Seek justice,
Encourage the oppressed…

Currently Feeling: Still congested, stuffed-up and yicky.
Currently Anticipating: “Indie Rock Meets Indie Style” tonight at the Crocodile with Sarah.
Currently Loving: Dannon Light and Fit vanilla yogurt.

Thank You God for Making Me Useless

This cartoon sums up how I’ve felt this week.
Monday and Tuesday, I was sick with the HIV or the Clap, or whatever makes you feel like you’re hot, cold, hacking up a lung, have needles in your esophagus, etc.
I had a full day of work yesterday, and came in today to discover that we’re encouraged to leave today at 3 p.m. and have tomorrow off in honor of Good Friday and Easter.
God is great. God is good.
Our God is an awesome God.

Currently Feeling: Like I want more donuts and brownies, topped off with melted peeps and chocolate-covered strawberries, washed down with some strawberry soda.
Currently Anticipating: Bowling tonight with Sarah’s supposed hot, Irish bus friend.
Currently Reading: The Twentieth Wife. It’s the first book I’ve dug in a long time.

Today’s my Jeanniversary

Today marks the one-year date since I wrote my first blog. I’ve shared a lot of my personal feelings and opinions, current events I’ve thought interesting, crazy drunken stories and other random events in my life. While at times it seems a bit narcissistic, blogging has become an outlet for me—a way to share what I have bottled up inside. A big thanks to my faithful blog readers who read each and every one of my posts and care about what I have to say. Who knew that having multiple people (some you don’t even know, weird) reading what is basically your personal diary, could be so rewarding?

Since starting this Internet record of my life, I:

• Became a project manager at World Vision
• Bought a new car
• Bowled in three bowling leagues
• Took up belly dancing, bingo and a book club
• Jumped off at least two dating roller coasters
• Gave up carbs and sugar
• Became a mother to Stella
• Moved to a new apartment with Sarah
• Discovered a couple new awesome bars and restaurants in Seattle
• Traveled to Mexico
• Almost died in an apartment fire (twice)
• Seen at least seven good rock concerts (including the Rolling Stones!)
• Became a bridesmaid
• Made new friends, became closer to some old ones, and lost touch with others
• Read a million new books
• Made-out with a gay man
• Survived more than one unparalleled drinking binge in Eastern Washington
• Have learned to become a pretty good cook
• Attempted Internet dating

Wow. It’s amazing all that can happen in a year. And it’s incredibly entertaining and awesome to be able to look back and read about how I feeling at certain points in my life and how I was spending my time.

So, here’s to another year. I can only hope it’ll be as fabulous as the last, and that all of you will continue to support this hobby of mine.

Luv,
Jeanna

The Good, The Bad and The Old

I’m too old to be on The Real World. I’m not married, engaged or in love. I don’t own a house or condo. I’m too old to choose the “other option” if I get knocked-up. I’ve never lived with a boyfriend. I’ve yet to call another city home outside of Washington state. I need to make a Grad school decision soon. I don’t have a retirement plan or health insurance.

BUT

I finally discovered something about being 25 that hasn’t been bothering me lately—yesterday my insurance rate dropped $40 a month. That’s a lot! Finally, something positive.

AND

Apparently, 25 isn’t too old that I can’t hear this.

Are you?

January is over, and things are looking up. I may have a lot of issues to tackle (I feel like I’m becoming dark and twisty), but at least I’m still young enough to be part of the secret ringtone club and will soon have extra money in the bank!

Reason, Season or Lifetime

I found this blurb today while scouring the Internet. Despite all the prayer crap, I don’t think it could possibly make more sense to me. Especially during this week, while I’m trying to figure out the REASON for the relationship with me and Tre. I think it’s a perfect way to look at why people come into your life, good or bad, and a way to let go without being bitter. That aside, I have so many awesome SEASON and LIFETIME friends. I don’t know how one person gets as lucky with friendships as I have in my life. It’s the tie that binds me together…

Seriously, Is it Christmas?

When It Rains, It Pours

I’m feeling a little bored and depressed today. It must be the weather.
Or that I have incredibly so much to do at work but can’t bring myself to do any of it.
Or that I don’t have any fun plans this weekend.
Or that everybody already seems to be doing the winter hibernation bit cause the incessant phone calls have stopped and people aren’t returning my calls.
Or perhaps it’s the fact that Matt’s mad at me for some unknown reason and hasn’t called me for two weeks, or that John chose Wednesday to rain painful self-realization upon my seemingly perfect self.
What’s worse—lack of reality, or a reality check?

Matt and I have either talked or seen each other everyday for the last six months. Suddenly I haven’t heard from him in two weeks and have gone without an answered text message or phone call. Please take note: Jeanna’s biggest pet peeve is not returning my attempts at contact. I can’t really figure out what I’ve done, but it’s bothering the hell out of me. He’s one of my very best friends, and bottom line, I miss his company. People always think we’re dating—it’s quite the big joke between us—so now perhaps I can joke that we’ve broken up. Except it’s not really that funny.

John and Josh apparently have a common knowledge between the two of them that I’m a “cock block” and a little “territorial” when it comes to them and their floozies. I’m really mad at my mom for passing down this “cock block” gene to me. I had no idea it was something I suffered from, but am now quite embarrassed.
Listen—what I care most about on this earth is the well-being of those who I know and love. My family, my friends, my co-workers. Anyone who touches my life, even for a little bit. This is human nature, no? So I have to admit that I’m a little judgmental when it comes to ¾ of the women they choose to spend their time with. I don’t purposely try to cock block them; I don’t do it because I’m jealous and want them to myself; I do it because I love them and genuinely care about the women they choose to spend their time with. I don’t think either of them realize just how great they are.

And I’m just not a fake girl. I never have been. What you see is what you get. I won’t kiss your ass the first time I see you, tell you how fabulous your shoes are or how beautiful your hair is—that has always made me feel a little uncomfortable when people do that to me. I’ll probably say, “Hi. I’m Jeanna. Nice to meet you.” Nothing over the top, but if you get to know me, I’ll be your friend for life. And no I didn’t give you a dirty look the last time I saw you. You’re mistaken. I’m three quarters Asian.

Argh. I’m human, I make mistakes, but they’ve all seemed to have come raining down this week. I don’t know. Something just doesn’t feel quite right today. And unfortunately, I’m remedying my torrential downpour of doom with retail therapy. Isn’t that always the answer? Well, that and lots of booze coupled with cheap sex. That makes everyone feel better, right?

Currently Feeling: Like an old person in an old folks home when I eat sugar free jello with my lunch everyday.
Currently Wondering: What the fuck I’ll do all weekend.
Currently Loving: My beautiful new redecorating job.