I woke up over the weekend and thought, “I should Google ‘body falling asleep before the brain’.”

I had a good reason. I swear it happens to me!

I was lying in bed the night before and my brain was churning away and then I heard a sound.

Brain: Is that us snoring?

Body: *deep breathing*

Brain: Shit, am I asleep? I don’t feel like I’m asleep. How can I be thinking this if I’m asleep?

Body: She’s onto us! Wake up!

Brain: That was effed up.

I swear to you, my body was trying to go to sleep before my brain was even ready! Can that happen?

I Googled and found stuff about sleep paralysis, but I don’t know if that’s it. AND people who have sleep paralysis report feeling like they’re choking or that there’s an evil presence in the room with them or aliens! So, I’m pretty sure I don’t want that.

There’s also something called Hypnagogia which is the transition from being awake to being asleep. If your mind remains aware while this is happening … somehow … science … then you might notice that you can’t move or speak.

My experience wasn’t that creepy. I didn’t feel demony or paralyzed. Just a bit offended that my body was so bored with me that it drifted off to sleep.

It’s happened to me before. I normally notice my breathing has changed and then once I notice, it goes back to awake breathing.

I think if I play this right I could be on my way to having out-of-body experiences and I think that could totally kick ass!

I found this in my backyard yesterday.

It’s some sort of crazy, mutant Dandelion. Look at it!


It’s got a frikkin’ giant trunk thing! With at least 5 heads!

This can’t be right.


If I cut one off will it regrow 2 more? Like some sort of crazy Dandelion Hydra?


Dear God! This is the beginning of the end. Or at least “Little Shop of Horrors 2016”.

Hydralion says, “Feed me, Jenny!”


What are Abby’s thoughts on all this insanity in the backyard?
“Duuuuuuuuude! Relax, bro!”


She is no help at all!

We’re doomed.

This is a Dongle.


It’s what my Fitbit uses to communicate with my computer.

I must say, it’s a very good job I was not in the meeting when they came up with the name for this device, because to me:

Dong + Dangle = Dongle.

This is a dongle, people!





My brother is a very nice man, with a streak of pure evil in him.

He likes to torture me.

For example, quite a while ago I went down to the basement … his domain, obviously … to do some laundry and while responsibly trying to dispose of my lint I found this:


It scared the crap out of me and I was forced to burst into his bedroom and beat him with a freshly laundered sock.

More recent evidence of his evil and my idiocy follows.


I invited him up to watch a scary movie with me. Saint Eric doesn’t like to watch them so I normally do when I’m home alone. For some idiot reason I thought I would ask Nick to join me. IDIOT!!

He gets a kick out of watching me jump and scream and yell at the characters for never turning on the lights.


I had to do laundry in the Lair of the Basement Troll. I was down there folding and I hear weird noises. I open the door and Nick is standing there holding his phone to the door and playing “scary sounds” he found on the internet. Ass!

I leave the door open and keep folding but when I look again I can’t see him. This is a clear sign that he’s up to no good. I finish folding and I leave the room kicking because I know he’s out there being evil and if I’m lucky I’ll kick him before he scares me. Sure enough he’s standing in a dark corner of the room with a blanket wrapped around him so only his face is showing! DICK!


I had to finish my laundry. I had one load left in the dryer. Then I get a text.


I waited for a while and then decided I had to go get it done. I asked Saint Eric to come with me and in a completely unprecedented and unsaintly move he said NO! I tried to explain that I was scared of the dark and what Nick had in store for me but he didn’t seem to think that was a reasonable excuse for a 37 year old woman not to go into the basement alone. Pfffft.

I decided to be brave. I opened the door. I turned on the light. I got to the bottom of the stairs and I peered into the room and then I saw it … the laundry room door was ajar … I freaked out and ran up the stairs whimpering. Back in the living room I did a little dance of fear while telling Eric he had to go down with me. He had the gall to laugh at me and still refuse to help.

I totally bailed on the laundry. I jumped on the couch and hid under my blanket.

Eric laughed. Laughed at my pain. The nerve.


Thanks to Nick I was forced to wear undies from the dregs of my collection and a shirt that doesn’t fully cover my chub which means I will be uncomfortable all day! Ass face!

Why didn’t I go get my laundry in the morning before work, you ask?

Because it’s still dark when I leave for work, assholes! 

I wasn’t risking it! I’m no fool!

Nick, you’re a monster.

I love you!

I’m always learning things about myself. Sometimes I feel as though I am learning the same thing over and over and other times I learn things that are new and surprising!

One thing I learned a long time ago is that I never feel comfortable in groups of girls. I’ve never been the type of person that had a whole bunch of girlfriends. One or two was always just right for me.

As I get older I have to face these gaggles of girls occasionally and I thought I was getting better at it.

When I was getting married I had a Bridal Shower and a Bachelorette and all was well. There were girls and I was fine and even enjoyed myself! By some miracle I even managed to throw a baby shower for my sister-in-law and invited a jillion strangers and was totally cool’ish about it all!

Progress, right?

I thought so, but then, last Sunday happened. A joyful happy occasion that turned into a nightmare. Ugh!

My friend Gena is having a baby! Best news ever! I am amazingly, gushingly happy for her and her husband and I can’t wait to meet their baby!

She had her Baby Shower last Sunday and I was invited. I was nervous about going right from the start because when I throw a Shower it’s in my house or a backyard and when she does it it’s in a nice restaurant or a Hall somewhere and there are real plates and silverware and shit. She’s totally fancier than me! 🙂 Not a bad thing. Just a thing.

So of course, this Shower is in a restaurant and it’s not right near my house so I’ll have to drive there and this place will be full of women I don’t know. It’s a measure of my love for her that I even agreed to go. 😀

The day comes and I’m nervous about going and about what to wear. I am a jeans and t-shirt girl all the way. I never wear makeup. I don’t know how to do my hair. These things have never appealed to me and I’m normally fine with it. I become aware of this lack when occasions like this arise, however. I text Gena and ask if I should wear a dress … I really don’t want to because I only have two that fit and I used those up for her Bridal Shower and Wedding all those years ago. She says there will be people in jeans so I relax a bit.

Things started to go wrong on the way there. I got lost. New thing I learned about myself: I can have a map on my phone and step-by-step directions and still get lost! What the eff, me?

I called Eric from the car because I was starting to freak out. I’d been driving in circles and realized I needed help. Eric is better than OnStar.

I was telling him that I was lost and I started to get a little weepy. I pulled over and we figured out what I’d done wrong.

First mistake: I used the map thingy that opens when I click on an address and not the proper GPS that speaks to me and tells me where to go!

Second mistake: I got off the highway an exit early even though I swear the map thingy directions told me to. Never using the non-talking one again!

Eric set me right and I found my way there. I was 1/2 an hour late and I hate, hate, HATE being late. I’m always early. I think it’s a control thing. I can get the lay of the land before the shit goes down and then I feel safe.

I walk in and the place is just full of women. I put my gift down and Gena’s sister-in-law greets me warmly and even asks someone if they saved a seat for me. She was awesome. 🙂

I think I might be okay with this. Maybe. Kinda. I find Gena and I say hi and rub her belly … I totally do that all the time, even before she was pregnant. 🙂

Everyone is already eating so I find a seat and I ask a lady if it’s taken and she’s like, “No, but you need to get a place setting because I took that one.”  I look down and it’s just a bare spot. I sit down and the woman on my right doesn’t even look at me and the woman on my left is on her phone or something. I feel utterly alone and out of place. And everyone is dressed nicely. God dammit!

To be fair, these women don’t know me and I didn’t sit down and greet them all like, “Hi!! I’m Jenny! How do you know Gena? Want to drink some wine and talk about shoes or whatever girls do at things like this?” I just sat down, clutching my bag and didn’t say anything.

Then, it happened. I lost my shit.

I knew I was going to cry. I had that pit of the stomach, bleak feeling and I knew it was over.

I texted Eric because I thought it might help.


Right after I sent it I got up and went to the bathroom because I knew that tears would happen. I felt that shaky feeling coming on.

Before Eric could even reply I sent this:


I was in a bathroom stall, bawling my eyes out and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t handle all those people. I felt like a total failure. Who loses their shit because they’re in a room of people? Normal people do this all the time!!

Eric texted for me to call him but I couldn’t. So he called me.

He spent time on the phone with me, calming me down. Telling me to try to get control of my breathing. I stood in the stall with my back against the cool partition, feeling like an asshole and trying to breathe.

Eric is amazing. He told me I didn’t have to go back to the party. He helped me get enough control of myself to stop crying and to breathe regularly. He suggested I find Gena, tell her I couldn’t stay and then come home.

I saw myself in the mirror and knew that wasn’t happening.  I left the bathroom and pretty much ran for the door. I texted Gena that I had to go and I was sorry.

I felt like a total failure. I drove home crying and feeling ashamed and stupid. I kept thinking if I’d done something differently this wouldn’t have happened. If I’d left earlier, worn a dress, hadn’t gotten lost, hadn’t gone by myself …

I am not sure why this happened. There’s still a part of me that thinks I don’t have panic attacks. It was just a bad day.

Gena and I texted about it after and she was amazing. She knows I’m nuts. She’s a little nuts too. 😉 That’s why we get along even though she’s fancy. 😀

Eric took care of me for the rest of the day. He let me watch The Force Awakens and eat popcorn. He told me not to beat myself up and that this stuff just happens. He was surprised I even made it to the restaurant after getting lost, so I guess that’s a plus right? I made it farther than expected. Victory?

I still feel embarrassed about it but writing helps. I feel as though I’m putting this out into the world for others to grab on to if they need it.

If anyone reads this and goes through the same thing, just know that you’re not alone! There’s a tribe of misfits out in the world that does stupid shit like falling to bits at the sight of a room full of women. 😉

I lost that day, but I think next time I’ll be better prepared. I’ll already have the popcorn bought and the DVD cued up so when I stay home I’ll be entertained. 😉

I like to think that my enthusiasm for control is a result of my anxiety.

Unknown things make me anxious so I try hard to control the things I know.

It can get a bit annoying sometimes; for myself and those in my life.

For example, I know that Eric won’t forget that the cats are outside in the backyard and I know he won’t forget to call them in when it’s time.  However, because I’m a control enthusiast I can’t leave it at that.

I can’t let it be because there’s something in my brain that says, “What if he forgets and they’re out there all night and they run away and get hit by cars!?”

This madness results in texts like this:


AND because Eric is a Saint his reply was simply:



He totally gets me.


While we’re on the subject of Eric being a Saint, I should mention that he also has to put up with texts like this:


AND because Eric truly is a Saint his reply was:


That is true love, people!


Me: Who’s the most beautiful Ruby in the whole world? Who is it? It’s you! You’re so pretty!  Yes you are!


Ruby: Psssshhhhh, I totally know.


This is my Bum Angel.

Bum Angel

She’s Magic

She visits me after a workout to tell me I have done a good job.

I love her.

She is born out of my hard work and sweat.  Literally.  My sweaty ass creates angels.

It’s brilliant.

From Jenny Lawson’s Blog:

via Every Friday night. And Saturday night. And every night basically. | The Bloggess

It’s comforting to know I’m not alone in my alone-ness. 🙂

I’ve always wanted to play the piano. Seven or eight years ago I started taking lessons, but then I quit. I’m sure at the time I had some acceptable excuse but I’m pretty sure the real reason is that I was afraid to practice. I had moved into a house that was divided into three apartments and I felt so conspicuous every time I touched a piano key. I was afraid they would hear me making mistakes. Silly, silly Jenny.

I started taking lessons again in January and I’m really enjoying it! I practice at home where my husband, brother and cats can hear me and it doesn’t bother me. It might bother them, but I’m cool with that. I don’t practice enough, but not because I’m afraid so I figure that counts as a win!

The weirdest part about the whole thing is my weekly panic when I’m having my lesson. When I first started I would get extremely nervous before my lesson. That is abating now. I still get nervous but it’s not enough to make me want to avoid it. The part that hasn’t gone away is the part where I’m sitting at the piano and working my way through a song and all of a sudden I stare at the page and nothing makes sense. I can’t remember the notes. Even if I just played the same note a second before … nothing. Blanksville.  I usually start to giggle or say something silly so my teacher doesn’t wonder why I’m just sitting there frozen, while in my head I’m frantically trying to remember what note it is I’m looking at. Is it a B?  No, it’s not a B!  Is that my left hand or my right hand!  Ahhhhhh!!!  My teacher always tells me to take my time and eventually I unfreeze and we carry on.

Last week was the best one so far because I was playing and then I froze, my mind emptied and I started to freak out. I actually said, “I’m having a minor panic attack!” and my teacher said to me, “Take your time. It’s not worth it! It’s just the piano!” She’s awesome. Her name is Amy and she’s the sweetest girl around. I would put her picture in here but she might not appreciate it. 🙂

Keep in mind people, these lessons are only 30 minutes. So I sit, play, panic, relax, play, possibly panic again … all in the span of one half hour. It’s exhausting and exhilarating!

I always have a huge smile on my face when I leave and I feel amazing and light on my feet and I think I have figured out why!

Something like a simple piano lesson for someone with depression & anxiety issues is akin to a normy skydiving or bungee jumping. I get my adrenaline rush from the fact that a) I actually attended my lesson and didn’t wuss out and b) I played songs on a piano mofos!!  It’s an amazing rush and so much safer than extreme sports!

Happy Piano

It’s worth the pianicking!