....but it's enough

Even though I'm probably the last person on earth I finally watched the fabulous Irish film Once. I'm pretty sure it made my heart seep out of my eyes and my ears. So much so that after the credits rolled I watched it again a second time making Ryan watch with me. Proof that there are good moments left for us all. That music does still have the power to transcend. That there's movement left in this empty heart of mine.

The Title of This Post is PBBBBBBTTTTTT

Ya'll, seriously.

I'm a little tired of the whole "I Hate 2008" campaign I have going on here. I've been working up the nerve to write a post about how things are on the up. I've lost 5.5 pounds (P.S. the hardest 5.5 pounds I've ever lost in my 33 years), I spent Saturday with some of the best women I know - women who knew me when and know me now and love me anyhow (is that a country song?), I got to adequately squeeze both of my cute cute cute nieces, Rob & Big, Tim Gunn getting weepy on The Biggest Loser, spring, reaching goals at work (and surpassing!) and maybe some other stuff. I even thought things might be changing...thought I might actually invite 2008 to movie night and see how things go.

But.

No.

No, no, no. And that's the thing with 2008. He's a crafty devil, smacking me upside the head with juicy badness at the exact moment I decide to let my guard down. Rendering me (and my blog) a lifeless heap.

2008, listen up. Quit playing games with my heart.

Or else.

A Willing Subject

Ryan has never been much of a tech guy and is generally far behind the trends that even soccer moms have moved on from using. Before me, he thought iPods were useless and Tivo was a brand of TV dinners. For the longest time Ryan has had the most ghetto cell phone ever. The only bell and whistle it possessed was the ability to make calls without a phone cord. No camera, no video, no color, etc.... I could care less but Ryan's lack of updated phone technology was a huge embarrassment for his hi-tech friends. Recently one of his friends upgraded and decided to give Ryan his "old" phone. A phone that's so "old" and "out of date" that all it does is take photos and videos and has a texting keyboard and ringtones galore and can probably do your taxes if asked nicely. Now everyday Ryan plays me a new ringtone he's downloaded or specialized text message alarm or voicemail beep. And the photos. Ya'll, the photos! The new cell phone has awakened Ryan's inner photographer. He can turn on the camera mode faster than you can scream DON'T TAKE MY PICTURE I HAVE A HUGE ZIT RIGHT NOW!

Lucky for me, I don't have to scream that. Because it isn't me he's so desperate to photograph....it's the one true love of his life.

The Plot Thickens

An IM conversation with Ryan this afternoon:

GlamJo: Look at this news story!! Link
GlamJo: ....just another reason to not go in the water
RyanIsAwesome: what the heck
RyanIsAwesome: so it jumped out of the water....and killed a person
GlamJo: yes, JUMPED OUT OF THE WATER
GlamJo: JUMPED.
GlamJo: OUT.
GlamJo: OF.
GlamJo: THE.
GlamJo: WATER.
RyanIsAwesome: if the sharks catch wind of this....
RyanIsAwesome: there will be no hope

But It Kinda Gave Me A Rash

Ryan and I got invited to a birthday party, or more accurately, a Birthday Moustache Bash. And this is what happened.



I have to say, the Stache Bash looks good on the Illingworths. Under-eye baggage. Red eyes. Oily skin. A skin color that doesn't occur in nature. Yes....I think this is the look we will now adopt for any and all future parties.

Also, making out with fake moustaches? Hot.

Rarrrrr.

Nice Try

OK 2008. I can see that you're trying to reach out. Trying to disguise yourself as an alright kinda guy. And I'll admit...it's been a good effort:

-Christian won Project Runway
-Ryan got a raise
-Lost has been better than ever
-Super Mario Galaxy on the Wii
-Success at work
-Super Target is finally open...and glorious

But listen, it's going to take more than that to win me over.

Yes, Still

Dear 2008,


I hate you.


Love,
Jo

Even Though the Ticket Counter at Thoroughbred Cinemas Thinks I Look Sixteen

WebMD just sent me an email entitled:

Going Gray, Staying Gorgeous!

I can't decide if I should be flattered that they assume I'm attractive, or freaked out that they've somehow seen my hairline and were concerned enough to send me a charming email about how to fix my problem.......

BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.

Storm Tracker 2008

So ok, things are still a bit...ugh times three. 2008 and I are still in a standoff, neither of us willing to budge from our respective corners. Neither of us willing to give the other any credit, instead just seething at each other and making empty threats. My sick friends are still sick. My heartbroken friends are still heartbroken. Writers are still on strike. We still don’t know who Jacob is. Work is still work. And Madam Vaginismus still has her claws imbedded deep into my marital social life. Never mind the fact that it’s raining babies everywhere I look. What is up with all the babies? Of course, maybe it’s like being on a diet. The second you decide no more fries! you see five commercials an hour about hot, salty, glorious fries. Maybe I wouldn’t notice all the babies if I weren’t so ready to have one. Also, if there weren’t so many. Seriously, I’ve had seventeen friends give birth recently. That’s double digits, ya’ll. If you’re trying to get pregnant, come and sit next to me. Every woman in my general vicinity is guaranteed to be great with child before I can even ovulate. Except that lately I’m not ovulating at all. And in case you’re counting, that’s two strikes. And that’s enough for me...I’m out.

It feels a bit like a hamster wheel...running and running towards something that just isn’t there. Striving and searching and hoping in general. But the badness continues to pile up. And up. These days my friends and I are getting stuck on the giant life questions – what does it all mean? Why doesn’t God answer prayer? Why doesn’t my husband want to love me anymore? Why can’t I get pregnant? Why did I get cancer so young? Why are some things so easy for others and so hard for me?

Last night a line of storms came through Tennessee bringing with them all the rage and anger that feels appropriate for this time of year. During the first line of storms a tornado touched down at my old college campus and completely destroyed some of the dorms. Looking through photos of the wreckage I saw that my old dorm room was one of the worst hit. A room that has always held such significance for me. I feel like I grew up there, became who I am today. Discovered the world and my small place in it. That room was my jumping off place. And now it’s gone. A storm came through and wiped clean any evidence of my time there.

In some ways, I wish a tornado could roar through my current state and wipe the slate clean. Rip the roof off and let everything just...fly.

Just go.

Don't Wanna Be Your Monkey Wrench

For Christmas I gave Ryan Foo Fighter tickets. Ryan loves the Foo Fighters. And I knew he would all but freak over the tickets. Which he did. Which is also why I got us floor/general admission tickets. I knew when I bought these tickets that I would not enjoy this scenario. Sweaty bodies pressing themselves upon me, pushing and shoving, is not my idea of a good time. I'm in my mid-thirties, ok? But floor/general admission also means you're closer to the action and this was for Ryan. I was trying to think of others and be filled with Christmas spirit and stuff.

The moment we arrived the kids behind us were talking about how many bowls they should have smoked before the show. And then people blew smoke in my face. And then a strange man hit on Ryan. And then the shoving began. And the pushing. And the suffocating. Most of the show I could only see the sweaty armpit of the large man in front of me...the large man who hadn't showered in a few days. And several people were kind enough to grope my butt without my permission. And everyone felt free with the cursing and the screaming.

But ok, the band was great (what I could see) and Dave Grohl was hot (from what I could tell) but mostly what I learned is the one thing I've known for a long time.

I.
Do Not.
Like.
People.

P.S. 2008, I still hate you.