Fortunately, it’s fall. Unfortunately, it’s 70 degrees outside.
I mean, seriously. 70 degrees? In October? I remember several Halloweens past, when it snowed. I minded then, because I was trick-or-treating in a mermaid costume, but now that I’m too old for such fun, I demand some COLD!

Fortunately, it’s Halloween on Friday. Unfortunately, I have to work.
“We will be closing at 9:00 on Friday in observance of Halloween,” says the sign on the door of my work. I think it’s hilarious. What I don’t think is hilarious, is that I have to run the cash register instead of going out on my favorite holiday. But I’ll be okay, because…

Fortunately, I have the best costume ever. Unfortunately, the Nazis that employ me say no cross-dressing.
For Halloween this year, I’ve chosen to dress as the second leading killer in the United States. No, not cancer. CHUCK NORRIS. I’ve got the beard, I’ve got the denim jumpsuit, I’ve got the gun holsters. But then, my manager tells me that there’s not cross-dressing. Well I’m going to do it, and if I get in trouble, I’ll just say I’m a bearded lady. They can’t get mad at me for that.

Fortunately, I know some fantastic Chuck Norris jokes. Unfortunately, there is no unfortunately to that fortunately.

Lucille Ball
Lucille Ball

In my opinion, this was my best costume ever. Lucille Ball. Used it two years in a row. (I was going to be Jessica Rabbit, but the costume was a bit skanky and I was going to a pretty kosher party, so I pulled the only thing I had in my closet—Lucy.)

(I’m always a famous redhead for Halloween. This year, it was between Miss Frizzle, Winifred Sanderson, and Lizzy Borden. Then someone suggested Chuck Norris and I was done for. He may not really be a redhead, but I don’t care.)


(almost 5,000 views?? how is that even possible? I’ll tell you. it’s the Twilight posts. I should keep those up.)

When last we left Janeal, she was mad at Warner Brothers, enjoying speed dating, and pondering over who to vote for in the upcoming presidential election. Also, she was a waitress working in a dead-end job.

(I have to explain that last sentence. I discovered Cha-Cha, the texting service that answers your questions. To test it out, I asked it all sorts of random questions, one of which was “What is germonderpop?” And the answer was, “Germonderpop is a blog about a waitress working in a dead-end job.” Funny, huh?)

Well, I’m not a waitress working in a dead-end job anymore. Well, I am. But now I’m going to school. Trying my best not to drop out. Forcing myself to do homework.

So far this semester, I’ve alienated myself. I’ve ignored everyone in my classes and gone straight home after school. But now I’m trying something new: Socializing with my classmates and hanging around campus more. Both of these—though this is the first week I’ve started it—are already improving my education. By becoming friends with people in my classes, we can study together. By hanging around campus, I have nothing better to do than homework. (Except right now. Yes, I’m on campus.)

And that is all you need to know right now.

Razz vs. Wiretap

I’m trying something new.

My friend Mel and I started a competition blog, called Razz vs. Wiretap. Our first competition is to see who can go the longest without repeating an outfit. Once that’s done (or even while it’s running), we’ll have other silly competitions like who can kiss the most guys in one week, or anything else we can think of.

It’s just something fun for us to do. And also, it’s freaking hilarious. So check it out. leave comments!

WTF, Warner Bros?

“Hey, I got an idea. Summer movies make more, so why don’t we push back Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince till July 2009 so it can make more money!”
“Gee, what a novel idea! Even though really, Harry Potter movies will make bank no matter what month of the year they come out! And really, who cares about the millions of outraged fans?”

Honestly, WB. What are you thinking?

I’m not a huge fan of the movies. I think the acting is terrible. I think that whoever decides what goes in the movies and what stays in the books should visit a shrink. I think the books are loads better. But ever since Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows came out last July, I’ve had nothing Potter-related to look forward to except the movies. And now, not only is the seventh book being divided into two separate movies–coming out a year apart, no less–but the sixth movie is being pushed back ten months.

Thanks to this blog, I learned that maybe by sending bright red envelops–also known as Howlers, in the Wizarding world–we, the fans, will get the attention of Warner Brothers, and maybe penetrate their thick skulls to let them know how silly they’re being. Apprently, online petitions are no bueno, and I suppose that somehow acquiring a scarlet envelop and writing a non-threatening boohoo on the inside is the same as a petition in a way… But will it do any good?

P.S. I haven’t actually heard any official news of the release of this movie. Just stumbled upon facebook groups, heard from coworkers, and I think somehow it leaked into my dreams. Must be a sign.


This is the first presidential election that actually matters to me. For every other one, I was too young.

Unfortunately, I don’t want to vote.

I’m not particularly fond of either of the candidates. They both have some fantastic strong points, but then again, they both have some pretty terrible weak points. If we could somehow morph them into the perfect candidate, then I’d be satisfied.

But I know that it’s my duty as a citizen to vote, so what do I do? Vote for a candidate I’m not particularly fond of? If I had to choose right now, gun to my head, I’d probably say Obama. But maybe that’s because my roommate is obsessed with him and has swayed me a little bit with her praise of him.

As Pumpkin said, “I’m just going to close my eyes and push a button.”

Speed Dating

I went speed dating tonight.
Weird? Yes.

I was expecting something completely different. I was going just for fun, and to kind of make fun of everyone there, but I was pleasantly surprised.

I forgot how it feels to meet new people, what it’s like to hold a conversation with someone who knows something you don’t. You can learn something new from every person you encounter, and it’s fantastic how you can be whoever you want. You can be a better person, you can be more interesting, you can not be the stereotype everyone else has shoved you into. It’s a relieving feeling. And it makes you sweat. (in fact, and this may be too much info, I was very glad I wore a white shirt to keep from showing how much it made me sweat.)

No, I don’t think I will ever see any of the guys I talked to ever again. But they were all intensely interesting, and one of them even offered me a job.

Wow. This sounds much too philisophical for a blog about speed dating. Long story short: good times. don’t be hatin.

I’ve reached a dead end. I’m a waitress living in an attic, progressing neither mentally nor financially, and I have no motivation to fix it.

“Simple solution,” you say. “Go to school. Get a degree, get a good job, do all that travelling you’ve been wanting to do, and grow up.”

“Oh, well wouldn’t life be just beer and skittles if it were that simple,” I say.

First of all, I don’t want to go to school. I love learning, but I only like it when it’s something I’m intrigued by. For instance, as of late I’ve been gazing up at the stars (what one may call “stargazing”), curious about them. I’ve been studying astronomy on my own, because I want to. I don’t want to be required to take X amount of science credits and Y amount of history classes. I want to see something I don’t understand, and answer my own questions. I hate the education system.

Second of all, even if I wanted to go to school, how am I to pay for it? I don’t want to get a student loan unless I absolutely have to, and I don’t want to go into debt unless I absolutely want to go to school. I can’t go to school unless I have a high-paying job that can support me while I go, and I can’t get a high-paying job unless I go to school.

Typical Catch-22.

It seems my only option is to crawl back to my last school, beg forgiveness for wasting a perfectly good scholarship, and promise not to do it again.

Either that, or work at a Mexican Restaurant for the rest of my life.