This is NOT 7th Heaven

And we do NOT resemble the Camden family so I have no idea why there is a homeless kid living in the basement.

Grandpa called him a drifter, using more colorful language. Not to his face. That I know of... I can't actually be sure about Grandpa and Grandma anymore.

Maybe just for one second we can recall the incident where the guy got his head cut off on the bus. So maybe all drifters with guitars aren't safe. This isn't 1960.

He spilt wine on the floor, smells like dog food, looked at porn on the computer, left the toilet unflushed and the cupboard doors open. I guess I should be thankful I do still have my head.

He left after 3 days. He even left behind his brick of cheese and 4 boxes of KD. He must have left fast... I wonder if we are really crazy enough that we scared away the homeless kid

I'm no longer bleeding green, I'm crying green.

First of all, I kinda feel like a lot of my blogs should be called this. But this is important and truly vomit inducing.

I just started watching the CFL for really last month when my dad explained how downs and all that junk works, not just pretend watching to pick up boys. Anyway, I am very very disappointed.

Tonight the Roughriders lost by 1 point. Montreal won because we had an extra man on feild and they got to re-kick. Their first kick, the one they did with our extra man on the field didn't make it through the goal post. They got a second kick and of course made the ball go through the prongs.

So many things were racing through my mind. At first I was happy because they ball didn't go through, what kind of sucky ass team can't do that from the 30 yard line. I could do that and I can't kick anything without falling down!! Then I was baffled because they were kicking again. Only in the movies does shit like that happen.

Maybe the Riders can't count. They were probably pushed through math class so they could play football.

Maybe they didn't know the 13th man was not a real player.

Ange says this is why she supports the arts. Jann Arden never loses by one point. I agree and will no longer watch sports. I'm gonna enjoy empty stores and block out Rider nonsense as white noise.

And FYI Montreal, bragging about this win is like bragging about screwing a girl you roofied.

If I Could Just Rewind

If you could rewind and go back in time, what would you do?
Tell yourself that one day it won't matter that Lesley always played with the better My Little Ponies?
That one day you would actually be friends with your sister instead of trying to send her back upstairs?
Maybe you would tell your younger self that your science project is not the end of the world; that you SHOULD go to bed earlier, or that you should definitely not let that greasy loser into your heart, or your pants.
Maybe you would go back and relive your engagement, your promotion, your wedding, your kid's birth?

If I could rewind time, I would go back One Year Ago.

That was the fateful day my life intertwined with my teen idol by only the most coincidental of chances.

I was looking for Dolly Parton.
He was looking for Ted Turner.
I was with my mom and sister.
He was with his bodyguards.
I was in town for a New Kids concert.
He WAS a New Kid.



Yes, Jordan Knight was standing in the same Chapters bookstore, in the same Edmonton mall, at the EXACT SAME TIME as me. Do you know what the chances of that are? You couldn't duplicate that if you wanted to. (And believe me, we tried.)

It's a moment I have relived a million times since then. His Boston accent. His slight frame and shortness. His dark hair. His politeness at the radio interview I am pretty sure I was giving him, if only in my own mind.

If I could rewind, I would ask to get a photo. If I could rewind, I would have said "Thank you for being the first boy I really fell in love with. Thank you for giving me something my 12-year-old friends and I could bond over. Thank you for not thinking I am entirely crazy for stalking you in this store."

The jarring reality is that the very event that started my idea for a blog and my re-obsession with my favorite boy band is a moment I can only relive online, here with you.

But there is always the possibility he might read this...I can always hope for that.

But then it got worse...

The only logical reason I can think of that this would exist, is because this company is ran by 12 year old boys.

Please Note: I DO NOT WANT this soap. Yes, this is poop soap. And can be yours for $9.98

But the ad warns: Soaps can vary slightly in shape and color--just like real ones...

OMG.

Another sign I spend too much time on the internet!

I'd always kinda thought, yeah I've seen it all. Like the type of mentality where not much should shock me anymore.

I mean I've seen everything from people having sex in the wide open feild next to the Craven exit to Jehovah Witness scrapbooking stickers to Jordan Knight in real life up close.

I thought I'd seen it all. Then I saw this:

Yes, those are pickle band-aids. You can buy them for $4.99. You can also get Bacon & Egg, Jesus, Scabs, Beef, and Kissy Lips...

I almost want to buy them and use them. Well, not just use them, but show them off. Like put one on my forehead, think of all the people who'd stare. It'd give them something to talk about when they got home. Or something to text while they stare!

Yeah, I'm gonna definitely put these on my Christmas Wish List!

WARNING: DISTURBING MATERIAL BELOW

So,you know how when you walk you keep your eyes open so you don't walk into wall, or trip??

Well, I was walking with my eyes open, I pushed open the women's bathroom door in the Watson gas station. With my eyes open because I don't want fall onto the gross bathroom floor.

I see an aboriginal women in her 50's. She is in the handicap stall, which is closest to the door (and in my immediate eyeline). She is standing there with the stall door wide open. She is almost standing up straight and pulling up her pants. Her national geographic vajayjay exposed.

I made a beeline for the other stall. I closed and locked the door while listening to her wash her hands. I was so shocked, I did what I do best: share too much information! So I whipped my cell phone out of my pocket, logged onto facebook and updated my status all before peeing! It said:

"Jennifer Hill Is so shocked by what she just saw in the watson bathroom i'm updating my status to tell everyone while i'm still in the stall! Gross"

It was so gross. So gross, I'm gonna start walking with my eyes closed.

Tropicana Adventures

One of my closest friends, Tera, and her boytoy Jay, own a chain of tanning salons. Tropicana Tans to be exact. And not only do they offer premium tanning with no stupid strings attached, they give me a deal!!!

They have a "Master Sun 360". It's the cadillac of tanning beds. 4-6 times the tan in one session!!! And it has less UVB rays, the ones that burn you, so you can stay in longer without the burn.

The tanning bed and I don't always get along. Laying flat on my back for ten minutes caused me some anguish. When the bed shut down and I went to push the lid open, I realized I could move my back. I'm naked and I can't move. Tera talked me into not wearing my underwear (even though I did wear my panties the first time, she assured me that my nipples wouldn't burn, plus being naked in public is weird). And now I can't friggin' move. And I can't reach anything to cover myself up, and even if I could all they have in the room is those stupid tiny hand towels. Like what the hell am I supposed to do with those?? I'm naked and I can't move. Slowly but surely, I got off the bed with enough groaning to make Tera think I was putting on a solo show. But don't worry, it's all worth it!

So after two sessions in their spaceship tanning bed, I'm sitting in Angela and Grant's kitchen in their half renovated curtainless house at the table playing on facebook, neglecting the dog's whine's for some of my delicious ribs and lifting up my shirt to look at how brown my once white belly has become.

I have become mesmorized at how tan I have become after only 20 minutes. I'm in awe of how this machine hasn't made them billions of dollars...yet! I just sit there and keep lifting up my shirt and rubbing my stomach. I didn't see anyone looking in the windows, but I'm sure someone saw. And I would bet my care bear purple penguin that every time they pass Ange and Grant's house now they look for the girl who lifts up her shirt and rubs her belly like some sort of buddha.

Anyway, the point of the story, my zebra boobies. So when a chesty girl like myself lays down, my boobs fall back and try to choke me. This also causes them to have a little roll of their own. So when I'm standing in the mirror admiring my brown boobs, I notice two white stripes on the outside edge of my boobs. From the stupid boob roll.

I have striped zebra style boobies. But I don't care. I love Tera, Jay and the MasterSun 360!

Banff. Through the Eyes of Grant's Cell Phone

Okay. Who are we kidding. It's MY cell phone, but Grant does use it occasionally. One such occasion was our trip to Banff. I was at a conference and he had some time to kill. Here's what he saw fit to photograph:

He tells me this guy was wearing shorts.

This was the bundle of sticks that was $30 at a craft store. He LOVED that.

This is why it's a National Park!

Parks Canada building.

Another beautiful mountain.

Yes Jen, there is a Booster Juice and a Louis Vutton in the same mall. (click to enlarge)

You can ALWAYS find a place to drink.

Grant was pretty sure the Bay went bankrupt. I said that was Eatons and Woolco.

Downtown.

Even the alleys are nicer in the mountains.

Our hotel.

Outside our hotel.

What was surprising to me is that there is NO Tim Hortons in Banff. Not one. I found this unusual considering the nauseating amount of Canadian-isms all over the place.

In fact, I had no idea that Canada was so full of dreamcatchers, stuffed polar bears/grizzly bears/foxes/moose/elk, RCMP in red serges, log cabins, bacon and maple leaves. All that and not ONE Tim Hortons? Second Cup and Starbucks are clearly not Canadian enough to fit into this scene.

The other interesting note is that there were very few "Canadians" in sight. Now, before you paint me as a racist, I realize "we are all immigrants" blah-blah-blah, but really, every single person we talked to had a distinct accent! Australians? Check. Swedes? Check. Japanese? Check. Brits? Check. Americans? Yup - check!

Excuse me, but where is my maple-leaf-waving-bacon-eating-Canadian-accented-red-serge-wearing-RCMP? Is he snuggled with the stuffed moose on his mantle in his log cabin with the bear rug under the watch of a dreamcatcher? Must be. He doesn't have any Timmies to keep him going.

As in Jolie and Aniston?

I have been learning all about social media and blogs. I was at a conference in Banff for the International Association of Business Communicators, and the topic of social media was a hot one.

Anyway, it got me wondering how easy it would be to stumble upon our blog if you searched "Ange and Jen" on Google.

Well, you don't get our blog.

You get hundreds of references to Angelina Jolie and Jennifer Aniston though. The funny thing is, several of them could be totally applicable to sibling relationships.

For example:
"Ange and Jen. It's war." (We don't go to war too often, if ever, but there is always potential.)

"Ange's fury - Jen's secret meeting with Brad's mum." (Okay, maybe not this one.)

"Ange - another Jen dig." (Yup, I totally pick on her.)

"Jen on Ange, finally." (Is this as dirty as it sounds??)

"Ange and Jen send mags into a frenzy" (We wish!!)

If you want to find us, Google 'Ange and Jen have a blog'...then it comes up second. Jen and Ange--the OTHER famous Jen and Ange--still get the top spot.

It's hard being not-quite-famous. But I can live with that.

Mmmm Moxie's

I hate hot waiters.

You know when you go to Moxie's, order an appetizer, a "Moxie-sized" Peach Bellini, supper, and then have dessert, and while you know you're being a pig by eating a weeks worth of calories in a week, you don't want to be judged by the waiter you're pretty sure used to be an actor on Bold and the Beautiful.

Want the half order? No, the full order... Would you like the sample size? No, the full size... And I would like another refill.

I hate hot waiters, I hate thinking about what they are thinking while they check on me "to see if everything's ok" and I have a mouthful of food. Yeah, I have a mouthful of food, where else do think I would put food. You'd really be judging me if I was eating it through my ears.

I hate wondering if they are betting with the other waiters if I can really eat it all. I hate hot waiters and how they smile with their hotness for a good tip and how they smell almost as good as the food.

I feel like I should eat half my burger and take the other half home... and by home, I mean eating it in the car in the parking lot.

Dear Moxie's, I'd like you to hire an ugly waiter, with acne scars, bald spots, yellow crooked teeth and twenty five extra pounds. Thanks, Jen

Jen's Bucket List

I'm almost 25 years old, it's time I really get living and start crossing things off my bucket list. It's not too long though, this is what my Bucket List consists of:

1. Learning to Surf

2. Being on the Ellen Degeneress Show

3. Visiting every state in the US for at least a week to see all the cool tourist attractions

4. To spend my 60th Birthday on a nude beach in Europe

5. Keep a secret and only tell it to postsecret.com

6. Climb a Mountain, like a real one.

7. Sing on the opry stage where Reba, Dolly, Garth and George have sang. Even if it's during my week in Tennessee and I have to pull a weapon on a security guard.

8. Deliver a baby or perform a surgery on someone other than myself

9. Scubadive with dolphins, whales and sharks

10. Get a tv show with my sister, of course!

When I went back and read the top ten, I realized that my freak flag might be waving a little too high, but who cares!

A Big Dose of Adorable!

This is Brooklyn Holm. The world's cutest and happiest baby. Also, Jennifer's new obsession. Oh, and that's Brooklyn's puppy.

There is so much sweet in this picture, I have a tooth ache.

Halloween 2009 - Year of the Mini Wheat

Yeah, you heard that sound too?? I guess, it was pretty loud.

It was me reaching a new level of awesome.