Because the World Moves for Celebrities, or Just the Mere Thought of Them

Possibly against better judgment, I let my father borrow my digital camera. And not having that thing in my purse, well, it upsets me. I curse myself when I leave the house without the camera. He has left for an extended trip to Syndey, Hawaii, and a quick touchdown in Fiji. When he said Fiji, I caved, because that is totally the place all the celebrities go, especially for New Year's. And plus, Tablet Hotels emails me way too many aqua blue surrounded hotels, though actually, there is only one hotel there on their list.

I had to give him a brief overview of the camera, for a second time. He can't see many of the characters or symbols on it and quickly resorts to doing that old-people thing of jerking his head back and simultaneously holding the camera farther away. I'm only slightly concerned he'll flip through the pictures and see shots of my cleavage. I was attempting to do something artsy, but I'm not sure it turned out that way.


I'll be Changing the Blog Name to Celebrity Whore

Steven Segal just purchased a house from one of our client's. When the girls informed me of this at lunch, I let a gasp and was all, "What? When did Steven Segal move to Memphis?" There are very few celebrities that own property in Memphis. Let's be honest. Most don't live here. Cybill Shepherd and David Gest are about as famous-living people as Memphis ever gets. Did I ever tell you that David Gest shopped my (part-time job) store and bought all of our Easter votive cups. I was annoyed because I totally had my eye on those.

Anywho, I totally whipped out the camera to take a picture of his signature. Forgive my insane love of celebrities, even the B-list ones. Picture will be posted later, possibly.

Courtesy of M. Brown



I'm trying. As God is my witness, I am trying. My anger is boiling. And as I spent nearly thirty minutes at the boiling point with the copier complete with Miss Piggy type frustration, a coworker walks by. Noticing that I put my jacket back on (because I had to meet a client), she says, "Glad to see you finally put some clothes on." She took maybe three steps, and I could feel the intense hatred and glare on my face. I just wanted to scream, "Fuck you!"

Another one of my coworkers commented the other day that she had never seen me pissed off before. The close friend that was with me later asked how on earth I ever hid that. I keep telling her that work Jeni is very different from real Jeni. Although, real Jeni has been having a really difficult time suppressing her real self.

I remember being this angry on birth control. All the time. The tiniest, slightest thing would immediately set me off. It took me several months to recognize it. I can recall being at a department store paying for an item when my then boyfriend came up behind me and put his hand in my back pocket. I wanted to put his head on a spit. I huffed at him and told him to leave me alone. As I walked away, I thought to myself, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

So what the hell is wrong with me now?


Justice isn't that Sweet

I just referred to a customer as dumb, and seconds later, as I attempted to turn a corner to enter another office, I banged (the shit out of) my head on a metal door frame.

I'd say I deserved that one.