Posts Tagged ‘Humor’

FFB 40: A Shout-Out to My Cousin

In Uncategorized on July 19, 2014 at 1:43 pm

In honor of the man who suggested I do this blog and get my damn book written already…

Dear Future Former Boss (Life):

I quit. I quit you, Life. I’m moving on. Wasn’t my plan, seems a bit soon (seriously, WTF) but such is life. And death, apparently.

I had a good run (yea-ah). A good walk. A good laugh, a good cry.  A GREAT life.  I smiled a million times, laughed a million more, got all of you to join me in my fun and merriment.

And now I’ve moved on.  I’ve got a new audience, new locale, got my pie in the sky (Nick, please send a sign if there is pie in the sky and, more importantly, if there is cake).

I’m out.



P.S. See you on the other side.




MBSW Tights

In Uncategorized on November 19, 2013 at 8:24 pm


I decided today that I really need to go shopping for some new tights.  It’s that time of year, and the only tights in the drawer are all in a sorry state.  The only tights in my current collection are MBWS tights.  You know, “Must Be Worn Strategically” tights.

There’s the Ribcage Pair, i.e. the pair so stretched out the waistband is around your ribcage.

The Elephant Knees & Ankles pair that requires constant pulling up so avoid the elephant leg look (of course this pair is usually gray as well).

Speaking of gray, there’s the Fade to Black er I mean Gray pair – once a beautiful rich black and now a black/grey dull color.

The Under Your Pants pair (not to be confused with underpants) are for wearing on cold Chicago winter days when wearing tights under fully lined wool pants is necessary and acceptable.  They must be worn but not seen.

There’s the Fuzzy Sweater Tights – these tights were not purchased as sweater tights but were instead accidentally thrown into the wash with that fuzzy grey sweater you own.  And of course if these tights are big and stretched out, they are now the Fuzzy Sweater Elephant Knee & Ankle pair.

The Must Wear With Boots Pair has holes and pilling around the feet and ankles and cannot be work with flats or heels.  The alternative to this pair of tights is the Long Skirt pair – the feet are fine but above the ankle is a mess.

Are there other styles of tights in your collection?


I’m not a Pakistani girl being shot in the head by the Taliban

In Uncategorized on September 17, 2013 at 8:36 pm

ImageAlso known as, “Are you kidding me?”  Also known as, “WTF!”  If you know me, you’ve heard me spout this mantra nearly all year long.

I wish I had never seen that movie Sliding Doors, you know, the one with Gwyneth Paltrow.  Actually I wish I hadn’t seen a lot of her movies and wish to see less of her in general.  But I always think of that movie when I have a “what if” moment. 

What if I hadn’t left my bag on the front seat of my car last week so that a thief could smash the window and steal it?  What if I hadn’t bought that condo I’m trying to have taken away from me?  What if I had a healthy relationship with food?  What if I hadn’t responded to studio1394 on Match.com because he was under 30 and his profile said he wanted someone much younger than me? 

I’m not a Pakistani girl being shot by the Taliban, although it feels like I’m walking around with a black cloud over my head.  I tell myself this because it could always be worse.  And I hate that saying, “it could always be worse.”  Because of course it could!  It has been worse.  It will be worse again someday.  But it could be better couldn’t it?  And that “worse” scenario is just some vague concept but not being a Pakistani girl being shot in the head by the Taliban is a real thing.  A real thing that I am thankful did not happen to me.


FFB 39: There’s no place like home

In Uncategorized on April 20, 2013 at 1:49 pm

Dear Future Former Boss:

I resign. I quit. I am leaving you. I wish I could tell my 30 year old self that this condo would never be worth it but don’t we all have something to tell our 30 year old selves? Like maybe, you think your metabolism is slow now, wait till 35! Or your boobs will never be this perky. They cannot defy gravity or age. I digress.

So now I sit in my little boxed up condo, waiting for the movers to call to say they’re on their way and try not to be sad about how things turned out with this place. Because I am so happy about the next place, the next adventure, the new roommate. And so what if I made a mistake way back when anyway.

I just wish I could remember which box has the booze in it. I hope it’s labeled “fragile!” And I hope it’s the first box I unpack!


Your future former owner and soon to be renter


Confessions of a non-yogi who likes yoga classes

In Uncategorized on January 6, 2013 at 2:46 pm

1. I don’t care how hot you make the room, I will not be able to touch my toes.  Seated or standing.

2. I don’t like to close my eyes during final savasana.  You want to know why?  Because it reminds me of that moment when I get in bed at night and I’m tired and close my eyes and immediately remember a bunch of things I need to do.  Some of which require going outside to the car.  The care that’s parked half a mile away.

3. I’m all for you putting your hands on me to help me get into (or especially out of) a pose but I can’t help but think how gross it is for you that you have to touch me when I’m all sweaty.  It’s gross isn’t it?  But not as gross as touching the guy next to me right?

4. I would look all happy and serene like you doing my job if I could wear yoga pants all day.  But not if I had to touch sweaty people taking my classes of course (how are you not catching the flu?).

5. I have been taking yoga classes on and off since college, and that blank look on my face is because I have no idea what you just said.  I need it dumbed down.  Chair pose.  Lunge.  Sit.  You get my drift.

Baby on Board!

In Uncategorized on October 20, 2012 at 10:09 am

Nope, not me.  And probably not you either!

I’m on to you with your “baby on board” sign hanging in a car window.  You think you can cut in front of anyone on the Kennedy, leapfrog lanes on 294, take the bike line to go around me on Lawrence.  You do all of these things with a baby on board?  Shame on you!

Your “baby on board” sign does nothing for me. The only positive thought in my mind when I see this sign is that if you do indeed have a baby on board then your car is probably messier than mine.

But I suspect you don’t even have a baby seat on board.  Or a baby doll!  Or baby carrots (I have those)!  I’ll never know since you weave in and out of traffic so fast to you can beat everyone else to work of course.

I wish there was a sign for Angry Lady with a Small Bladder on Board Who is Fantasizing about Rear-ending Your Car!  Would that fit on a small square sign or do we think that sign might take up too my much space in my read window?

FFB 38: I think I had five seconds before you interrupted me

In Uncategorized on October 16, 2012 at 7:43 pm

Dear Future Former Boss (Major Networks)

I quit.  Moderating a presidential debate? Nobody told me I would have to put my foot down!  Or put Big Bird’s foot down for that matter!  I missed a really great night on Twitter to be talked down to by Romney and Obama.  Romney even had the nerve to say to my face that he would cut funding for PBS! We hardly get any federal funding as it is.  PBS better not be thinking I’ll take a pay cut with that hit.  No siree.  No siree Bob.


Your Future Former Employee, Jim Lehrer

P.S. I bet they walk all over Candy too!

Things I wouldn’t let you tell my mother even if you could

In Uncategorized on October 15, 2012 at 7:16 pm


1. I do not always buy on sale with a coupon.  Sometimes I pay full price!

2. I will go to the dry cleaner just to have her sew a button on.

3. I own dry clean only clothes.

4. I do not “kill them with kindness” but sometimes I dish out some zingers that kill.

5. I do not wear a slip under that skirt.

6. I do not save ketchup packets from fast food restaurants.

7. Sometimes I throw out the little bits of soap instead of trying to meld them together into a new bar.

8. I wear a hat in the winter now. In fact, I zip up my coat too.

9. Sometimes I eat a poultry product without cranberry sauce but that’s usually because it wasn’t on sale or I didn’t have a coupon.

10. I currently have five different boxes of cereal open at one time. I probably paid full price for at least one of them.

Take back personal grooming!

In Uncategorized on September 24, 2012 at 9:03 pm

During this campaign season I have decided to launch my own campaign: Take Back Personal Grooming.

Take Back Personal Grooming.  Keep it to yourself.  Do it in private.  Just because you CAN do it in public doesn’t mean you should.  So, let me be clear:

1. Floss your teeth in the bathroom, not on public transportation.

2. Apply your hemorrhoid cream in the bathroom stall, not out in the locker room while you’re talking to me (or even if you’re not talking to me).

3. Cut your fingernails and toenails at home over a garbage can. Not on the 9 hour flight back from Belgium.

4. Pee in the toilet, or even the alley. Just not on public transportation.

5. This is TMI but it’s not my fault: Ladies, if you need to use a feminine hygiene product, say a panty liner, you need to put that in your underwear alone in a bathroom stall.  Not out in the locker room in my face when I’m bent over tying my shoes. You can kill two birds with one stone by bringing that hemorrhoid cream with you (see #2).

5 1/2. Ok this one is just a pet peeve and a real long shot in the campaign: stop spitting in public! Keep your saliva to yourself.  There is biologically no reason you need to spit all over the sidewalk.

This list will expand of course and I welcome comments and additions.  In the mean time, Take Back Personal Grooming.  Keep it to yourself, make it personal already.

I’m Jen and I approve this message.

Lessons in bird poop

In Uncategorized on August 29, 2012 at 8:52 pm

I became a car owner for the first time in my life just over two months ago nearly 20 years after I first got my driver’s license. So this morning I officially experienced my first bird poop incident.

Apparently last night I parked under an angry bird or 100 angry birds. It may have been that a flock of birds that dive-bombed me even because it seems nearly impossible that bird poop could get on the under-side of my door handle but not the top (I had to use only two fingers to open the door this morning).

This incident felt like it may have been personal. I think I have met my personality match in a bird. And she is an angry bird. I may understand some of her anger actually.

It turns out, it can be hard to get bird poop off of your car. I have only previously been to a car wash once (yes, I know, I should wash the car more often – did I mention I just became a car owner?). So I figured the automatic wash at the gas station (with the bonus discount of 2 cents off per gallon of gas woohoo) would do the trick.

Um, no.

I went through the car wash twice, first choosing the mid-range service and then upgrading to deluxe. I refused to go through the car wash a third time so I made some lame attempts to use the window wash thing by the gas pump to scrub the indestructible bird poop off the hood of my car. People started to give me looks. I gave up but heads up, you might want to take a close look at those gas station window wipe things before using them. I know one in Oak Brook that is full of bird you know what.

So what are the lessons in bird poop?
* Avoid that particular tree on my block and never park under it again.
* Always carry small rocks so I can throw them should I ever see angry bird and get a good shot.
* Keep handi-wipes in the car to wash hands should they happen upon door handle bird poop.
* Get a hand car wash next time. But not with my hands.

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