Dear Floor-Fixers,

I was surprised when the office at my apartment building announced that you were coming to fix my boiling hot floors. I was also concerned when the words "several days," "jackhammering concrete in your kitchen," and "don't worry, we'll put boards over the holes so you can walk" were mentioned.

But, let's be honest, here are things I was most concerned with:

1) The fact that this horrible concrete-jack-hammer extravaganza was to start at 8:30 in the a.m. For me, 8:30 a.m. is like Bigfoot: I know that there are rumors of its existence and many people actually claim to have seen it, but I'm still skeptical. And since I am no rancher or maker-of-donuts, I see no reason to find out.

2) The fact that you need to tear up my floor implies that you need to be able to find my floor. And THAT means that there will have to be cleaning involved.

Cleaning?

AND 8:30 a.m.-ing?

Seriously Floor-Fixers, didn't they hold a Geneva convention about this at some point? I'm relatively sure that I voted for Barack Obama because he was AGAINST this sort of thing.

So thanks, pals, for creating a Guantanamo-Of-The-Soul in my apartment.

Kisses,

Jill

It seems that I, in a case of horrible misspeaking, told my audience last night that I think 8 year olds are "hot."

Which I don't.

On the other hand, if they WERE, that would be an awesome hit show for Fox.

"Are You Hotter Than a Third Grader?"

There are, I think, lots of good reasons for a person not writing in her blog for weeks and weeks and weeks. Most of them involve either having a terrible illness or else being eaten by a whale (Jonah NEVER updated his blog, but God didn't complain even once.)

Me? Oh, I'm not sick or inside a whale at all. Frankly, I don't even like fish.

No, for me it's more like not calling someone back. At first you're like, "I'll totally call her tomorrow." And then after several more tomorrows, you think, "I can't call her NOW. Because then it will be totally obvious that I didn't call her back. And she's probably forgotten that she called anyway. So why point it out?" And then three months go by, and you're like, "NOW if I call her back, she'll be like 'Jill Twiss? Who's Jill Twiss? I don't know any Jill Twiss.'" and then I'll cry myself to sleep.

So, you see, to avoid crying myself asleep, I haven't written in my blog. Get it? Now, onto business.

Things that have and have not happened since I last wrote in my blog:

1) I did not become famous.

I know. I am as shocked as you are. In this time, a random pilot became famous for being attacked by Al Queda birds. The governor of Illinois became famous just for being an awesomely-capitalist entrepeneur. He should get together with Sarah Palin and sell Senate seats on Ebay. Oh, and I don't want to alarm you, but it seems that we elected a BLACK MAN as President. He's totally famous.

But me? Not even a little bit famous. Nope.

2) I've been cheating on you with another blog.

I know there's no excuse, but they're PAYING me. Which yes, makes me a blogstitute. But how else will I fund my crack habit and need for good ice cream? So if and when you feel like I'm not writing enough, you can visit me here.

3) My new computer only sometimes works.

Part of me feels like I have no right to complain about this, because *I* only sometimes work. Lots of times I don't work. But still, I would very much like a computer that worked ALL the time. Even Tuesdays.

4) I tried beer floats

Chocolate ice cream. Bud Light. I try these things so you don't have to.

Things That Were At My Sweet 16 Birthday Party:
1) Cake
2) Ice cream
3) A recording of "Phantom of the Opera"
4) 10 friends

Things That Were At My Student's Sweet 16 Birthday Party:
1) Cupcakes
2) Ice cream
3) Dancing transvestites
4) Ice sculptures of Buddha
5) 400 people
6) Gloria Gainor singing "I Will Survive" (for realsies)

These times, they are a'changin.