Happy Halloween!
Not much to say about yesterday, unfortunately. The highlight of the day was probably grocery shopping. I picked up stuff for a week's worth of dinners (jambalaya last night, fajitas tonight), as well as some candy for the trick-or-treaters that'll be wandering around the apartment complex in, well, just a few minutes. Anyway, I forgot to turn down the heat on the jambalaya last night and I ended up burning a little bit of it, but most of it was just fine. Had to settle for chourico again, but it's still fine.
Work was a fairly long night. And it seemed like the whole aisle was having a tough go of it, not just me. But even then, nothing particularly stood out about it. It was just tough.
The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance the story may have to any real life incidents or people is purely cooincidental. You know, like Primary Colors.
This is the story of a girl named Jeanne. Well, actually it's not, it's about a girl named Jill, her name has been changed, to protect the author. Jeanne is, perhaps, the most physically attractive girl I have ever met. In fact, she was Miss Teen Maryland, once upon a time; stunningly beautiful, and with a body that can stop traffic. Unfortunately, that's all there is to our dear Jeanne. She's an order of fries, without the fries, if you know what I mean; basically, an empty box. Any personality she may have once had has been effectively drummed out of her by her mother (one of those pagent mom's - see the movie Little Miss Sunshine and you'll understand) and her Christian Youth Group.
I have no idea how she got involved with the Jesus Freaks, although her best friend came from a family of them, so it's probably through her. Her own mother (dad split when she was a little kid, apparently), by all accounts, does not fit the description.
Anyway, I met Jeanne through my sister's best friend, who herself joined up with the JFs after a nervous breakdown she had at about 15 or so. She met Jeanne after my sister moved out of town, so she was looking for a new best friend. What she got instead was a life-sized barbie doll.
My sister's friend idolized Jeanne, just the way a good Protestant girl shouldn't. Jeanne was everything that she wanted to be. And the rest of the "Christians", too, gladly accepted her. The JFs are, after all, just a different offshoot of freaks. The beautiful girls don't become JFs, because they aren't outcast. But Jeanne did, and she became the Megan's giant trophy, and she paraded her around at every opportunity, always telling any guy who came up to her (and they ALL came up to her) that Jeanne was available only to "Christian" guys.
There was one problem. Jeanne's Christian credentials were tampered by an unfortunate love affair she had with alcohol and screwing. Also, she is a bit more, shall we say, materialistic than Jesus would have wanted her to be. The short version of the story is, Jeanne ended up engaged to this guy who fronted a "Christian" "Rock" band. The problem is, it wasn't exactly a "successful" "Christian" Rock" band. So the guy had no "money".
One guy who did have money was an old flame of Jeanne's from the private college in California that she went to. The guy wasn't exactly "Christian" (this wasn't a Jesus College, just a private one), but he was "rich". Rich enough to fly Jeanne out to California, where the pair of them engaged in her two favorite pasttimes.
Well, as you can well imagine, this did not go over well with her "Christian" friends back in Maryland. Deep down, of course, the "Christian" girls all hated her. I mean, she was their trophy, and they were certainly very nice to her, but they were seethingly jealous everytime she walked into a room all of their boyfriends couldn't keep their eyes off her. Jealousy is a stinky perfume, and once Jeanne faltered, the claws came out. My sister's friend didn't hate her, even deep down (she got over the jealousy by standing really close to Jeanne at all times and convincing herself that the guys who were staring at Jeanne were really staring both of them), but she still disinvited her from her wedding last month (she was slated to be a bride's maid), and the rest of the girls were all too happy to pile on.
The poor bastard who was engaged to her is the only one who is willing to forgive her (although I'm sure all the other guys in the Youth Group would be only too happy if she decided to reconvert and the fiancee wouldn't take her back to help lead her to redemption themselves). But she isn't exactly in the mood to be forgiven. You can just picture this poor guy's world tumbling around him - he's singing in a band, and he's got the most beautiful girl he's ever seen promising to be with him for life - then *poof* she's gone. And he's willing to do anything to get her back, even degrade himself to the point where he is willing to pledge his life to a girl who clearly isn't that interested in him.
Of course, the guy is better off without her. He didn't love this girl (and she certainly didn't love him). You can't love this girl; there is nothing to love. I mean, a great set of tits will only get you so far. You can't talk to a great set of tits. They won't comfort you when you're down, or give you support, or connect with your soul. You can squeeze them, and that's all kinds of fun, but it's no substitute for love. And this girl is kidding herself if she thinks that moneybags in Cali is in love with her, either. My sister once said that Jeanne has been bred to be a mistress, and I think she's right.
It's a shame, too. On the couple of occaisions I met this girl it seemed like there was something there, but it was buried so deep down under the all individuality crushing pagent and "Christian" nonsense, that it seemed barely there anymore. Maybe that's what all of the drinking is about, I don't know.
I'm not sure what the moral of the story is, or even if there is one. I'm not sure whether the story is supposed to be funny, tragic, both, or neither. It seems to me though that it is a worthy story, and that there is something to be learned from it.
And I'll leave you with that.
NFL Power Rankings on the sports blog, the political blog entry hasn't been filled yet - I may not get to it tonight, with all the munchkins running around. But I'll try to.
Work was a fairly long night. And it seemed like the whole aisle was having a tough go of it, not just me. But even then, nothing particularly stood out about it. It was just tough.
The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance the story may have to any real life incidents or people is purely cooincidental. You know, like Primary Colors.
This is the story of a girl named Jeanne. Well, actually it's not, it's about a girl named Jill, her name has been changed, to protect the author. Jeanne is, perhaps, the most physically attractive girl I have ever met. In fact, she was Miss Teen Maryland, once upon a time; stunningly beautiful, and with a body that can stop traffic. Unfortunately, that's all there is to our dear Jeanne. She's an order of fries, without the fries, if you know what I mean; basically, an empty box. Any personality she may have once had has been effectively drummed out of her by her mother (one of those pagent mom's - see the movie Little Miss Sunshine and you'll understand) and her Christian Youth Group.
I have no idea how she got involved with the Jesus Freaks, although her best friend came from a family of them, so it's probably through her. Her own mother (dad split when she was a little kid, apparently), by all accounts, does not fit the description.
Anyway, I met Jeanne through my sister's best friend, who herself joined up with the JFs after a nervous breakdown she had at about 15 or so. She met Jeanne after my sister moved out of town, so she was looking for a new best friend. What she got instead was a life-sized barbie doll.
My sister's friend idolized Jeanne, just the way a good Protestant girl shouldn't. Jeanne was everything that she wanted to be. And the rest of the "Christians", too, gladly accepted her. The JFs are, after all, just a different offshoot of freaks. The beautiful girls don't become JFs, because they aren't outcast. But Jeanne did, and she became the Megan's giant trophy, and she paraded her around at every opportunity, always telling any guy who came up to her (and they ALL came up to her) that Jeanne was available only to "Christian" guys.
There was one problem. Jeanne's Christian credentials were tampered by an unfortunate love affair she had with alcohol and screwing. Also, she is a bit more, shall we say, materialistic than Jesus would have wanted her to be. The short version of the story is, Jeanne ended up engaged to this guy who fronted a "Christian" "Rock" band. The problem is, it wasn't exactly a "successful" "Christian" Rock" band. So the guy had no "money".
One guy who did have money was an old flame of Jeanne's from the private college in California that she went to. The guy wasn't exactly "Christian" (this wasn't a Jesus College, just a private one), but he was "rich". Rich enough to fly Jeanne out to California, where the pair of them engaged in her two favorite pasttimes.
Well, as you can well imagine, this did not go over well with her "Christian" friends back in Maryland. Deep down, of course, the "Christian" girls all hated her. I mean, she was their trophy, and they were certainly very nice to her, but they were seethingly jealous everytime she walked into a room all of their boyfriends couldn't keep their eyes off her. Jealousy is a stinky perfume, and once Jeanne faltered, the claws came out. My sister's friend didn't hate her, even deep down (she got over the jealousy by standing really close to Jeanne at all times and convincing herself that the guys who were staring at Jeanne were really staring both of them), but she still disinvited her from her wedding last month (she was slated to be a bride's maid), and the rest of the girls were all too happy to pile on.
The poor bastard who was engaged to her is the only one who is willing to forgive her (although I'm sure all the other guys in the Youth Group would be only too happy if she decided to reconvert and the fiancee wouldn't take her back to help lead her to redemption themselves). But she isn't exactly in the mood to be forgiven. You can just picture this poor guy's world tumbling around him - he's singing in a band, and he's got the most beautiful girl he's ever seen promising to be with him for life - then *poof* she's gone. And he's willing to do anything to get her back, even degrade himself to the point where he is willing to pledge his life to a girl who clearly isn't that interested in him.
Of course, the guy is better off without her. He didn't love this girl (and she certainly didn't love him). You can't love this girl; there is nothing to love. I mean, a great set of tits will only get you so far. You can't talk to a great set of tits. They won't comfort you when you're down, or give you support, or connect with your soul. You can squeeze them, and that's all kinds of fun, but it's no substitute for love. And this girl is kidding herself if she thinks that moneybags in Cali is in love with her, either. My sister once said that Jeanne has been bred to be a mistress, and I think she's right.
It's a shame, too. On the couple of occaisions I met this girl it seemed like there was something there, but it was buried so deep down under the all individuality crushing pagent and "Christian" nonsense, that it seemed barely there anymore. Maybe that's what all of the drinking is about, I don't know.
I'm not sure what the moral of the story is, or even if there is one. I'm not sure whether the story is supposed to be funny, tragic, both, or neither. It seems to me though that it is a worthy story, and that there is something to be learned from it.
And I'll leave you with that.
NFL Power Rankings on the sports blog, the political blog entry hasn't been filled yet - I may not get to it tonight, with all the munchkins running around. But I'll try to.
posted by k - L - g | 5:02 PM
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