Climategate and liars!

Wow... try searching climategate in cnn.com and you'll come up with all of these hypothesis of the emails being real or not. Does anyone else see a problem here? The university that the hackers got these emails from admitted that they were hacked and that these were their emails. But everyone already knows that the media loves spinning things, so perhaps this is their way to advert everyone's attention to the real and incredibly disturbing things that are going on within the emails... like how to get scientists fired who disagree with global warming, the real climate data, and world wide carbon dioxide tax, etc, etc, etc, etc. Really?? Here's a prime example of the media being owned and not coming out with the truth.

Some Earrings

Update on mail failings...

Within two days of sending my complaint letter, a man in a dress shirt and tie came to my door to deliver the package. My roommate answered it, and told me that the man was very apologetic. Apparently, the deliverer accidently marked the delivered box and not the attempted delivery (which we already knew). I wish I was home for it.

More CHUCK, please

It's back in January. I'm so happy I could pee!! Let the Chuck-a-thon commence!

A complaint letter to a major shipping company

This is the tracking number that I was given for a shipment I'm expecting: XXXXXXXXXXXXX According to your site, this package was delivered on 11/20, yet I have failed to receive it. It has a delivery confirmation, but I never signed for it nor did anyone else in my building. 

While looking closely at your detailed tracking information, I'm led to believe that someone at your company severely dropped the ball. Maybe they're on drugs, an alcoholic, or recently attacked by an army of centaurs. Whatever the reason for this person or group of people is really quite irrelevant to me. 

To help ya'll out, I pasted the detailed tracking below for you to review it alongside my obnoxious commentary.

Delivered, November 20, 2009, 8:52 am, SAN FRANCISCO, CA 94116 

(please note that the above is a *very false* statement) 

Sorting Complete, November 20, 2009, 8:35 am, SAN FRANCISCO, CA 94116 

(okay...)

Arrival at Post Office, November 20, 2009, 7:51 am, SAN FRANCISCO, CA 94116 

(wow! that's uber fast, especially considering that this is only hours after the electronic invoice was received - in Ohio)

Electronic Shipping Info Received, November 19, 2009 

(I'm starting to loath you now. Wait... maybe that belongs at the top.) 

Please relocate my package and send it to me. 

Thanks a bunch. Oh, yeah, and I nag... By the way, I told the seller to contact you too. Expect loads of emails for you to fix this situation. 

Did I give you my email? XXXXXXXXXXX.com 

The time has come to redeem yourself. 

-Janae

The fight to stay a Toys "R" Us kid.

As I get older, I've been noticing that I get excited over things that my mom did while I was going up. This wasn't supposed to happen, Right? My mom and I have very different lives. She is a stellar housewife that keeps her house uber spotless, cooks dinners daily, does laundry daily, and maintains a beautiful garden. I, on the other hand, am capable of creating messes within minutes that will take me days to clean up, microwave a mean lean cuisine, procrastinate laundry until I run out of either socks or underwear, and forget to water my plants (although, the last one is a new and terrible habit). Reflecting on this list makes me feel like a bachelor; so how could I possibly get so excited over a slow cooker? No clue.

Today, I received my slow cooker in the mail. I did my typical happy scream/jump/dance. The idea of coming back home from work and not having to worry about making dinner is a huge relief thanks to this wonderful invention. My friend, Tim, has been telling me for a few years now that I need to get one. I've heard of all the wondrous things that it's capable of doing from a variety of other sources. My mom loves them so much that she owns three! I decided that there must be something to it. My laziness and disinterest in eating lean cuisines pushed me into getting one. And not a day too late; I start my job tomorrow, on my 7 month anniversary of getting laid off. (and who says that God doesn't have a sense of humor? :)  )

Check out my source of extreme excitement! 

When I was a kid, I remember seeing Toys "R" Us commercials during practically every cartoon's commercial break. I wanted to be like those adults on those commercials, still a kid. What I've been learning is that it's possible to be an adult and a kid at the same time. I think that my specific generation 20-30 something year olds are proving this. When I see myself getting excited over very grown up things like paying off my credit card or investing in a slow cooker, as in this specific instance, I feel like I've achieved adulthood. I can't help but go tell my parents, but then the next sentence out of my mouth is regurgitating my experience of walking all over San Francisco in the rain, completely soaked, and loving every minute of it. Their smile over me achieving adulthood turns into a disapproving frown. Apparently, I should know better. Know what better? 

Maybe there'll be a day when I'm no longer a kid at heart. I'm not anticipating that day to come anytime soon. If I do feel it approaching, I'll fight it off. The only thing that I think is a suitable replacement is being a crazy, eccentric, old lady.

The Running Girl

Or, maybe it's still a jog... Call it whatever you want, but that important part is that it's me!! Feel free to scream and jump out of uncontrollable enthusiasm and excitement. 

If you haven't shown your happiness for me yet, that's okay. I'm stalling this blog so you still have time to do so... 

Um, okay. I'll continue now. 

I joined a gym and ran today! Why I ever stopped working out, I have no idea. But the point is that I'm back at it. And it feels pretty awesome. I hoping I still feel pretty awesome tomorrow. You never know though, there could be some sore muscles occupying space in my body that I forgot about.

Icky things I see while riding Muni...

-Used band aids

-People picking their nose on the bus

-People picking their nose on the street

-People scratching inappropriate areas

-People fighting

-People urinating on the bus

-People masturbating on the bus

I'm going to take a hot shower right now. And then, I'm going to take another one, because that was one filthy bus. People, please, please, please... no one wants to see these things, especially the last two.

Go to Muni Diaries for more ickiness involving Muni.

Today's forecast: An electrical storm (in my brain)

I hate it when this feeling arises: depression. It easily consumes practically everything. I tend to go though waves of it, and here it is again. It's mild and tolerable. My emotion forecast tells me that it'll get better. But if I knew why it suddenly came, then even that would help. Maybe I'm bored. Maybe I think too much. Maybe I need to utilize some creative outlets. The internet suggests that I get involved in the community (I do), connect with nature (I sludged though massive puddles today!!), journal (I'll count this verbal diarrhea as that), do something I love (hm, okay I suck here)... I highly doubt that doing something I love is going to make the blues magically disappear. 

Time lapse.

I think I know what's wrong and I hate admitting it. I think I miss being in love, just the idea of all of that. Now I feel like one of those annoying girls that grate on my nerves. That's great. awesome. super awesome. And I don't even what to date right now. My female biology is causing neurons in my brain to misfire, whether or not that makes sense (or is even possible), I'm sticking to it.

This is what I think my brain might look like right now.

We don't make mistakes here, we just have happy accidents.

Right... This is not a happy accident, it is, in fact, a mistake. Sorry, Mr. Ross, but you're wrong, so painfully wrong. Someone deliberately planned out having Bob Ross tattooed on their body and then actually proceeded to pay for getting this done... Wow. I'm still letting that sink in. Go here for more tattoo horrors.