Archive | August, 2011

Jenna in the Country, Jenna in the City

27 Aug
Like a diamond, my personality has many facets. There are so many sides to my little meatball self, you never really know what you’re going to get, which stems at least partially from the whole 24 and crazy like a fox thing. But I have two distinct personalities. I like to call them Jenna In the Country, and Jenna In the City.

Lets explore Jenna In the Country:
  • Jenna In the Country is a SUPER CHILL girl. Likes to sleep, take bubble baths, relax at home, be all domestic and shit. Jenna In the Country enjoys walking around outside in bare feet, doesn’t mind working, but would MUCH RATHER be at home. This version of myself, being a “chill girl” is not all hyper and talking-a-million-miles-per-hour-with-a-SHIT-TON-of-voice-raisings. No. This is one mellow chic, and honestly, a little bit on the downer side. Doctors and Therapists would refer to this as “depressive”. Country Jenna gets throughly ENRAGED at the idiotic drivers on the road in town and swears off cities, small and large, for all of her life. She is mainly anti-social, and if stuck in this mode for too long, becomes a hermit and meaner than a one-eyed cat who had his tail singed on the stove. It literally goes from this:

to THIS:

In no set period of time whatsoever. Any little thing could possibly tip the scale once I’ve been in the “Country” long enough. At that point, ALL I want to do is shack up with a bunch of dustbunnies and hide out in a cabin in the woods until the apocalypse. Not cool. Which leads me to:
Jenna in the City. This Jenna is completely boss. Wicked outgoing, funny and witty as hell, life of the party, a flirt (Jenna in the City totally snagged the BF by the way) and absolutely HATES to sit around and do nothing. Jenna in the City lives off of no sleep, and lots of coffee and/or energy drinks. She is loud, talks a MILLION MILES AN HOUR with a voice ranging from loud excited teen to OH MY GOD IS THAT A FRIGGIN HYENA?! Literally, people who are in close contact to this Jenna have been known to carry around ear plugs. As with Jenna in the Country, this version also has downfalls. She gets wound so fast and so tight, the world is not going fast enough to keep up. This results in a very temperamental Jenna who is snappy and ragey. Until of course then the world stops spinning. Then we go from this:

                                                                                                                                                                                         To THIS:

In again, a uspecified amount of time. I can go from the life of the party to flat on my face in SECONDS. All it takes is a butterfly effect of some random small thing occurring and BAM! I’ve been socked in the face with cold hard reality and uppercutted by life and left in the rain to weep by drama. Fuck me indeed.
And therein lies the dilemma, folks. IS THERE a happy medium for someone who’s so different from themself? Indeed there is. And it comes in the form of a handsome, awesome, super intelligent, supportive awesome (did I say awesome?)  boyfriend husband who loves me bunches!. He helps me relax, maintain CALM, COOL, and COLLECTED, and remain chill yet fun. At times I’m a little “Night of the Living Dead”-ish after marathon shifts at work, but that to me is better than crazy-head-shaving-weilding-an-umbrella-at-people type of gal. Not that it wouldn’t be kind of fun, given the circumstance, but still. So, even though my sides have their share of ups and downs, this is the best of both worlds is the one I like best. Jenna in the Small Town. Which looks like this:

Cool as Cucumbers! ❤


Like this:

Tags: , ,


25 Aug

This morning, I was sitting on the loo in the bathroom while the kids took their bath and was reading AARP. (yes, the old folks magazine. Gotta say, really good articles though, and most subscribers nationwide. Kudos). I’m just flipping through it and this particular article caught my eye.

‘Sex on the Brain’ by Dr.Mehmet Oz.

First off, I’m totally thinking this article will be about either:

  1. Freaky old people sex and benefits to your cardiovascular system (Dr.Oz is a cardiothoratic surgeon, after all)


         2.  Dr.Oz’s sex life. (a previous month he wrote an article for TIME magazine detailing his colonoscopy/cancer scare)

So, naturally, having inherited a pervert gene from both sides of my family,  I  read on. The first paragraph details how Dr.Oz still gets all stressed and as he states “pre-game jitters” as he wore a  monitor for 24 hours that measured heart rate, respiratory rate and body temperature, which apparently are all things that get high and such when your stressed. Or jittery. (On a random side note, I think if I were having a MAJOR FUCKING SURGERY I wouldn’t want to know my doctor gets “jittery”. Just sayin’). At this point, I’m all disappointed and thinking that they totally fucked the title, thinking it should be STRESS on the brain, not SEX. But, I persevered. Blah blah blah, after 2 more paragraphs, he gets to the good stuff.

Apparently, the 2 key ways to fight off stress are exercise (borrinnngggg) and sex (yes please!) Exercise increases the cortisol in your brain (sidenote: too much causes strain on the heart, important later) and what not, and decreases anxiety while increases neurogenesis due to an increase of blood to the brain OVER TIME, or some fancy-schmancy Harvard doctor lingo. But that’s boring, and something that’s literally shoved down America’s throat in every anti-depressant and anti-anxiety commercial. They ALWAYS have something to say about exercise.

Heres where the sex came in:

“In a recent animal study, a single sexual experience caused a short-term surge of cortisol, just as exercise does. But MULTIPLE sexual experiences, DAILY over TWO WEEKS reduced the release of cortisol, increased neurogenesis, and decreased anxietylike behavior.”

I’m no rocket scientist, but I’m pretty sure that the sex would out benifit the exercise in reducing stress, as TOO much cortisol can like, make your heart fucking EXPLODE. He closes the article with a yada-yada, exercise in the morning, and leave the night “free for romance” for very healthy rewards.  I guess I can jive with that. Heres an idea, SEXERCISE.

Sexercise (n,v): the act of exercising while doing the nas-tay.

Or, basically, just pulling an “all-nighter”, bang the headboard through the drywall, and cause your neighbors complete awkwardness in crossing paths with you at the mailboxes every day for the rest of your lease. For like, multiple times a day, for multiple weeks. You’ll be the chillest dude(tte) out there. And hell, it’s for your HEALTH for Fuck’s Sake. (Men: here’s a tip: the next time you feel like engaging in some good-for-you sexercise, and your lady friend declines your wooing attempts, just be all, “WOULD YOU LIKE MY HEART TO EXPLODE FROM INCREASED AMOUNTS OF CORTISOL STREAMING IN MY BODY FROM ALL THIS STRESS?! If she loves you, she’ll do it. Wait, that’s your line, not ours. My mistake.)

But seriously, I was wondering why myself and a few other members of my elite circle were so damn crabby, and all the skinny bitches and SuperSluts are always so damn HAPPY. Turns out, we’re just too damn busy for squeezing in thirty on the treadmill, and honest blog, once a week nookie just isn’t cutting it for this bitch. As a result of this article, effective immediately, I am going to make a serious effort to sexercise as often as possible. I believe this will prove all well good with my man-friend.

About to un-stress and de-cortisolize? I think so. Lucky bitch.

Ummm, Yeah…

24 Aug

“Dearest, though you’re the nearest to my heart
Please don’t ever ummm yeah ever say we’ll part
You scold, and you are so bold
Yes together ummm yeah our love will grow old
Ummm yeah our love will grow old

You may be a million miles away
Please believe me ummm yeah when you hear me say
I love you, I love you

Come home, keep me from these sleepless nights
Try my love again ummm yeah
I’m gonna treat you right, ummm yeah, I’m gonna treat you right”

~Buddy Holly

I love this song. Sums up my feelings as of late. Sorry to get all sappy and feminine people, but honest blog…I SUPPOSE a 45 minute drive isn’t a MILLION MILES away, but it can feel like it. Ugh. Sappiness makes me so weird. But yeah, I shall continue to hold off on relaying this message to a certain SOMEONE until I can’t take it. Or am completely without a doubt inebriated. I’m the “you hang up first! Noooo, you hang up first!” kinda gal. heehee. Whether he’s Mr.Right, or Mr.Right Now, I should just enjoy and go along for the ride. A much better catch than the last few. Finally.

Bucket List

23 Aug

“You know, the ancient Egyptians had a beautiful belief about death. When their souls got to the entrance to heaven, the guards asked two questions. Their answers determined whether they were able to enter or not. ‘Have you found joy in your life?’ ‘Has your life brought joy to others?”~ The Bucket List (2007).

I am thinking now is a good time to get a leg up on my bucket list. Granted, I plan on living a good, long life, as my grandparents did. Unless of course the toxic carcinogens from the haterade people spew at me prove leathal…but anyways, here it goes:

  1. Rehabilitate a wild animal. Like a toothless bear, or a unstinky skunk. Nothing that could cancel out the rest of this list!
  2. Be a foster parent
  3. Scuba dive and pet a manatee. Sea cows are like, super boss. And totally nonviolent…I think.
  4. Visit Graceland, and The House of Cash ( I think actually I heard somewhere that burned down…may have some serious google investigating to do)
  6. Finish College and do something a little more bill paying friendly, that I will still love as much.
  7. Own my own home (with aforementioned perfect husband who will be a fixer-upper handyman extraordinaire!)
  8. Write a book, even if I’m never published. About what… who knows, that’s the fun in it
  9. Take a cross-country road trip from sea to shining sea, from tundra to desert. The ONLY way to travel.
  10. Go to a RedSox game. Preferably in Fenway Park, and preferably one in which they hand the Yankees their asses on silver home bases for lunch.
  11.  Show up at my High School reunion looking BETTER than I did in High School, with Mr.PerfectHusband.
  12. Coach a little kid soccer team, because its absolutely hilarious (…sidenote to my sister: we should do this once all of the kids are “of age” for AYSO BONDING AND TEAM SPORTS!)
  13. See a Broadway Show and go to Times Square when its late enough to be all lit up and pretty, but still too early for crackhead muggings and general mayhem and mischief.
  14. Make a substantial difference in someone’s life.
  15. Maybe, just maybe have a couple of more beautiful babies with said perfect man. Oh, who the FUCK am I kidding? I’m Italian, procreation to ensure large families is in my BLOOD
  16. Be the best MOTHER I can be, and no matter how wonderful my future husband will be, always remember the trials and tribulations of single motherhood and appreciate every moment I have with my babies.


Two of my greatest role models. Accomplished so much in their time on Earth, seeing and doing so many things and touching the lives of so many people. I live up to continue the legacy my Grandmothers paved for me. And I love you, always.

Eulogy on myspace…

22 Aug

hunting around my old blog, from April 10, 2009 I’ve been finding some pretty good ones… heres one for my sister:



Dear Grandma and Grandpa,

Today was honestly not the best of days for me, or any of us. However, the fact that you two are together again brings peace to my heart. As I was listening to the wonderful words written by my sister, I remembered much, and know that the following things will always bring a smile to my face and warmth to my heart:

chocolate chip pancakes


my porcelin dolls–ANY porcelin dolls

suspenders, in red.

pizza dough

the sunday paper

four post beds

those cookie type things that were shaped like strawberries

a bottle of Fiaschetti’s eye poppin 80proof anise

the little run down playhouse off of Rt.126.

the smell of hot soapy dishwater…love it.

a cupboard FULL of pasta

gallons and gallons of water

pretty dishes, and beautiful glasses

diet citrus frost soda.

…and so many other things. Until I see you again, I love you always.  Jenna


if you can’t say something nice…

22 Aug

…don’t say anything at all. One moral I was taught as a child. Another, “turn the other cheek”, and yet another, “as long as you don’t throw the first punch”. Well, gotta say, all of these morals have been corrupted in the past 73 hours. Why? Because I feel no need to be two-faced to people and decided to stick up for myself. So, okay, I did not LITERALLY throw the first punch, but I was however informed that  I needed to take care of my kids, stop being a lazy bitch and put on my big girl panties. Hmm. Now, I suppose I can consider that throwing the first of MANY punches. So, like any normal person, I struck back. Hard. I am used to setting little things aside that people say or do, maybe they could be having some sort of chemical imbalance that’s effecting their better judgement, who knows… But really, to say things to someone like that and then ask for a REASON why I hate you. Hate itself is a strong word. One that I do not use often towards the human race. For example, I hate Nazis and Liars. Not specific people, just traits, per se. But, okay lets take the gloves off for a minute and examine what I may “hate” about someone.

So, I’m quite sure there’s a few I forgot, but hey. We’re all human. So, any of the above don’t necessarily make a bad person, but contribute to the bad personality they may have. Because, honestly, who hasn’t lied? Who hasn’t gossiped about someone? But continuously doing so over, and over, and OVER. Now, that may be something I would be inclined to HATE about you. If you finally decide to come out and try to punch me with your ridiculous attempts of bringing me down, I’m going to jump up swinging at you like an enraged ninja who just had his fresh Gi soiled with your dirty spit. ESPECIALLY if you use any of that dirty spit to talk unkindly of my family, which you claim to be a part of. From here on out, I’m not taking anymore shit from anyone and am retiring the whole buddha/priest idea of “turning the other cheek” and instead I am going to take a lesson plan out of Margarita’s Book of Knowledge and BURN THAT BRIDGE. And DANCE around that pile of worthless ashes, and maybe just roast those big girl undies that I’m not “lady” enough to wear over them. After that? Continue your games, and I will take said roasted panties and shove them down your throat.

A couple of morals I’m now sticking to:


%d bloggers like this: