Just A Little Off Kilter....

I hope my title did not offend you, it's just that I'm simply trying to convey my reaction when I looked down at that sad looking little piece of plastic that I had recently peed on a cold and dismal January morning and saw two lines starting back at me. "Holy shit balls"  There simply can't be two lines...there are never two lines...things that Janet pee on don't produce two lines, only one line. Janet's hostile uterus had rejected all previous attempts to be occupied so those two lines must be some kind of mistake.  I went about my day.  Next day...two lines a little darker. Third day...two lines yet a little darker.  Funny universe. Very funny. You are such a cruel tease. This is what I was telling myself. I was preparing, perhaps even trying to protect myself from what I believed to be, the inevitable, heart wrenching disappoint I had gotten used to.  It's now Monday, January 6th and on my way to work, I stop in an buy a digital test.

You don't need to tell me that I'm not your cup of tea. I am well aware that I'm not a cup of tea, dummy.

Surreal...I don't know how to turn “feels surreal” into a noun. My brain is a little sluggish these days.  However you describe it, my pregnancy feels very surreal right now.  This is not to say I don’t understand there’s a baby coming. It just feels a little bit like a game of just pretend right now. So in light of this...I haven't quite been able to cobble together a pregnancy related post so in the meantime, I give you this... Someone recently said to me (after reading one of my nonsense facebook updates)..."I wonder sometimes what really goes on inside that brain of yours". Well my lovely friends...here's a glimpse... I've been thinking about Ewoks. You know Ewoks, right? Those furry little dog-like/bear-like creatures from Return of the Jedi that lived on the forest moon of Endor?  So anyway, I love them and I was just sort of daydreaming about Star Wars and how awesome it would be to have an Ewok.  Think about it....seriously think about ho

Have a great weekend you lovely peoples!

Thank you to each and every one of you for the lovely messages of love you sent my way. Adam and I are are so very, very grateful.  Much love,  Janet & Adam xoxo

I've been keeping a secret. I'm not even going to make you wait. I'm just going to come out and say it. I really don't like when people say, "Hey, I have news" and then ramble on for fifteen minutes about how they didn't know how to tell you, and would you like the good news or the bad news first. I mean, if you don't know how to tell me, then maybe you should have thought about it a little bit more before you brought it up, because now I'm just sitting here waiting while you find the perfect words to share news that...let's be honest...probably doesn't impact me in the slightest. And as for the good news/bad news question? What do you think? If you're really asking, I'd rather not hear the bad news at all. Because who wants to hear bad news? Unless it's just "bad" relative to the good news, but not really all that bad in its own right, well then I guess I wouldn't mind hearing it. And I might like to hear it first

Knock, Knock!  Who's there?  Olive. Olive who?  Olive you!

Sometimes I get frustrated because you can't put numbers in caps. 44. Am I screaming? You'll never know.

Have you ever found yourself on the verge of making some major adult decision, such as... Should I buy the generic Nutella, or can I really afford the name brand? Do I really need to take out the trash this week?...and while standing there, you think, “Janet, wouldn't it be great if I were seven years old again and didn't have to worry about any of this adult crap?” I think that - literally - all the time. Don’t get me wrong, most of the time I do enjoy being an adult. I like the independence of paying my own bills and the ability to have a glass of wine with dinner. I enjoy having conversations with my parents and relatives as equals, and I like having a basic life plan. But sometimes I just want to say screw it and, instead of inquiring about so-and-so’s new house or so and so's new baby, put on a pair of fairy wings and take off running into the yard. Seriously, how awesome was being seven? When I was a kid, my best friend was a girl named Patricia, whose mother Shar

We've all been there. You’re supposed to do something. You’re not going to do it. But you can’t say, “Hey I'm not going to do this because I don’t want to.” I've tried that, it doesn't work. So here are a few underused excuses for those times when you've had one too many “family emergencies”... My house/apartment is haunted - This is great because it’s so open ended. What does it mean? Does it mean that you didn't get a good night’s sleep because a ghost widow from WWII kept you away all night crying, “Johnny, where’d ya go? We were gonna be together forever, Johnny!”? Does it mean that you’re busy getting your house ready for a team of priests or ghost investigators? Does it mean that you’re in the middle of moving? Who knows! It’s such a wacky excuse it’s bound to work. I fell down - Just leave it at that. Let their imagination fill in the rest. I spilled [vinegar/gasoline/arsenic/your choice of liquid] everywhere - You can’t just leave your hous

Happy weekend you lovely, lovely peoples ☺

Took the sticker off a banana, put it on my shirt and said, "I hereby deputize you to uphold the law in Bananatown!". Now everyone is looking at me funny.

I don’t know if it’s because I have genetically weak ankles or the ground I’m walking on has it in for me, but I’m constantly rolling my ankles or tripping. Not a big trip where I fall flat on my face, just a small stumble that makes me feel clumsy and foolish. These trips can be awkward if they aren't handled gracefully, so I’d like to share some tips so you can be what you've always wanted to be...the smoothest walker on the street. Laugh - If you are with friends, this is easy. Just turn to them and laugh, as if you were stumbling for their amusement. Even if you are in pain, keep laughing. You can even laugh until you cry, then pretend you’re fake crying and it’s part of the joke. Slapstick humor never gets old. If you are alone, pulling this off may be harder. Laughing and smiling to yourself makes you look like a crazy person and since you've already proven that you’re clumsy, you really don’t want to add mentally unstable to the list. I suggest making eye contact wit

You will never believe what happened to me? The best news ever...I am about to be a millionaire. No, I didn't win the lottery. No, I did have a streak of luck at the Craps table. In fact, I didn't do anything. Well, anything other than check my email. And there it was, an email from my dear friend Winnie R. Parker telling me she is going to make me a millionaire. And I don't have to do anything except give her a little information. Sounds too good to be true? Well it's not...Look, here is the email she sent me. Hello my dear, I am Mrs Winnie R. Parker, a banker and manager of Audit & Accounts department in our Bank. I used to be a personal account manager to the late Mr. David Paul, our Bank customer who was recently involved in the ill fated Kenya Airways crash in Africa. As his account officer, hearing the report of his death, I made many inquiries to trace the extended family relatives to come forward to claim their inheritance but my efforts were aborted. I