Jenny... What is it that you do, exactly?

I'm not really sure that I like the question "What do you do?" What does that mean exactly? Of course, I understand that whenever someone asks you that, you can assume they mean "What is your occupation?" But where I work (at least) says really nothing about me. I've decided to start telling people that "I do exactly what I want to do."

really long day.

happy father's day! i don't want to go to work tomorrow. maybe a huge eagle will fly over and swoop me away to another country. AWAY WE GO TRUSTFUL STEED...HUG FIRST!

herbs

okay so i don't wanna be one of those people who brags about her boyfriend all the time but, mine is awesome!  he bought me an herb garden.  love him.

busy

busy weekends make the time go by entirely too fast.  i loved gardening this weekend with venessa and tony.  walt and karen had their baby everett.  i have yet to see him in person.  only photos right now.  but soon very soon.  ladonna and bob took a trip out to richmond to scope out the new house.  i may be getting a rhino soon.  not sure yet though?   

I'm in love with my new house.

Tony bought me flowers yesterday.  

well flowers for the porch anyway.

Stress is stupid.

Recently I've learned not to compromise my mental state. Work is not suppose to be stressful for a receptionist/interpreter/medical assistant/counselor...
Ok. So, maybe because I'm not secure enough to say what I actually do in the work place, maybe I can be a little stressed about the security of my job or jobs. Alas, I can breathe a little easier with the recent news I received yesterday. I will get to keep my job, but only under the understanding that I will be very badly treated. (just kidding) But seriously, the probability of me working harder than is usual is a grand possibility. That is sort of unimaginable, considering the fact that I consider myself already to be a hard worker. In fact, those of us who are left, just so happen to posses more than three job tittles. I am grateful to be working even if it is for such little pay. Needless to say, my rant is really so inarticulately trying to say that I shouldn't be stressed out, mainly because I have nothing to be stressed out about! Well, at least not anymore.

List of Things Tony.

Pepita needs full sun.
The knomes need refrigeration.
Mr. T and Chuck Norris will impregnate me before I finish writing this sentence.
Robots make great bags.
Sci Fi Fantasy books are for geeks.
Sweet Tea, cheddar grits and corn dog virgins are only from Phillie.
Virginia Gentlemen whiskey.
Rock Band interruption, means p.s. your neighbors suck.
Rip sticks.
Keys are better locked in your car, rather than in your pocket.
Pop it like, pop a lock!
Burger loves Richmond.
Zales makes wedding rings for two.
Slappin da bass.
Vampire kids are creepy...but not as creepy as the Sweeds.

Happy Birthday
Love,
your girlfriend.