Christmas Tradish...

In case you were wondering - yes, my entire family is awesome. 

My family has a few Christmas traditions. Some of them new. Some of them old. Among them, the family photo. How do you get your family to make themselves up like zombies for Christmas? You spend many years wearing them down with odd requests. Eventually they give up and just say okay to pretty much all of your ridiculous crap brilliant ideas. 

We also open two presents on Christmas Eve - an ornament and pajamas. Then we don said pajamas and listen to Dad read of Jesus' Birth from the Bible. For some strange reason, the phrase "sore afraid" gets us giggly every year.  And, perhaps the most obvious of traditions, I watch E.T. on Christmas Eve. 

I hope you had a Christmas as Merry as mine. What sort of Christmas traditions do you have?

It's (almost) Friday, I'm In Love

I was chatting with my pal Kacey (of KaceysKitchen and Where in the World is Kacey) about the end of the world when she brought Mr. Tilapia, a man keeping 1,000 Tilapia in his swimming pool in Phoenix so that he'll have food when a massive solar flare knocks civilization back to the Stone Age, to my attention. I had the same reaction I'm sure all of you just had. I fell in love. 

Kacey feigned concern for (1) my emotional well-being seeing as how I didn't handle my last break-up, with a steak, like a champ and (2) my budget - so much fish food. But I know she was just jelly imagining my future as Mrs. Tilapia, co-founder of The Big Top Fish Circus. (Don't worry Kacey, you can totally be the clownfish wrangler when we make the Pomacentridae expansion. Or eat fish and live in a prison surrounded by zombies with my Mr. and me if the world really ends.)

Mr. Tilapia, my Honey Lamb, did not divulge his real name or address. Obviously he didn't want to be bombarded with proposals from all the single ladies. Here's hoping he'll Google himself and find his way to this post/me. Love transcends and junk, right? 

P.S. Mr. T., my sunshine, I'm going to need you to move to Florida. Arizona is too dry. Bring  prickly pear margaritas. I'll bring...it. Unless of course it's already been broughten.*

*My vocabulary sponsored by Bring It On 76: Who'da Thunk We'd Make This Many Movies About Cheerleaders Without the Aid of Wes Craven).

U-G-L-Y, I ain't got no alibi...

Just in case you forgot how much of a winner I am, I have already won two ugly Christmas sweater contests and it's only December 12th.  If there is one thing in this world that I am good at, it is ugly. 

The first win came at a Cookie Swap/Ugly Sweater Party. I went for sweet old lady chic. It was a velvet pants and layered sequin/sweater vest situation. First place! The second win came at a Dirty Santa Gift Exchange/Mayan Ugly Sweater Party. This time I went for Aztec Rap Sensation - velvet track suit, sundial bling bling and a hieroglyphic neck tatt. Second Place/First Loser!  I got beat by a grown man in a woman's teddy-bear sweater. If I'm going to take second in anything, it best be behind a grown man in a lady bear sweater. 

What have you been up to this Christmas season?

P.S. I made these cookies for the cookie swap (as seen on Kacey'sKitchen.com). They amaze people.

Also, this may have happened inside my Dirty Santa gift:

I'll show you mine...

Confession: I LOVE Christmas decor. The more glitter, the better. If I get within three feet of my tree, I should be so sparkly that I can cover Trixie's shift at Babes while she buys cocaine runs holiday errands. I will be disappointed if I do not poop glitter for the first three months of 2013. Are you following me on this? Glitter. 

I also love seeing everyone else's Christmas decor. I want to see yours and I want to see it now. I'll show you mine and you leave a comment pointing me to where I can see yours. Deal? 

I planned to put up zero Christmas trees this year as putting them up is a lot of work and taking them down is the worst thing ever in the whole wide world. This is exactly how taking down Christmas decor goes for me (except Janeane Garofalo looks way more like a cat):

Touché Tuesday Advice Column: Boyhood

Need some Whitfield Awesome advice (about anything)? Fill out this form.   

Warning: The following question was submitted by someone trying to be funny or shocking or thirteen. But it takes more than the "m" word  to get a rise (you'll soon see what I did there) out of me. You should know that this post is rated PG-13. Don't blame me if your eight-year-old reads over your shoulder.

Dear Jen,
My arms are sore. Is it possible I could be masturbating too much?
Strokingly, Peter

Dear Peter,
Insufficient data, Pete. How am I to know if masturbation is the cause of your sore arms if I do not know things like what else you do with your arms or how often you ride solo? For all I know, you are a furniture mover and only self assess once a week. Maybe you wrestle actual gators on the regular and only wrestle your gator on Tuesday and Thursday. Or maybe all you do is sit in your room at your mom's house enabling socks to stand unassisted. I just don't know.

It is natural to be curious about your body. And you are probably far more interested in it that anyone else will ever be anyway. Just remember, all things should be practiced in moderation. 

Try talking to you father or family doctor or Jason Biggs. Probably not your P.E. coach though. 

♥ Jen

P.S. Remember, shaking it three times counts. 

The worst egg hunt ever...

Freakin' New Girl. I sat down to enjoy a light evening of comedy featuring Zooey Deschanel and that hot guy who plays Nick that I simultaneously feel like I've known forever and have never seen before but it doesn't matter either way because I want to have babies with him even though I probably can't because 90% of my eggs are LOST. That's right, lost. Keeping the other socks company. Candle in the wind. My sacks are running on 10%. Gone. 

In tonight's episode, Jess' lesbian gynecologist friend (they're dime a dozen, am I right) tells her that women lose 90% of their eggs by the time they reach 30. Of course her face turns into a baby deer and she sings some silly songs and demonstrates general hipster quirkiness until her LGF informs her that she does in fact have plenty of hormones up in her snatch (while her gorgeous model friend is coming up empty - take that models). 

In the real world, I pretend to be convinced that this is a made-up-for-laughs fact but nearly drop my hot-dog wiener and Thanksgiving gravy down the side of my recliner-and-a-half (America!), and give Google a friction burn with my mad search.

And there it was. "The study published by the University of St. Andrews and Edinburgh University in Scotland found that women have lost 90 percent of their eggs by the time they are 30 years old, and only have about 3 percent remaining by the time they are 40."  Lost. Lost? Should I have worn fewer skirts? Kept my legs crossed? Is this something that people know - why wasn't I aware?

This is not appropriate Tuesday evening comedy fodder. I still feel like I kinda want to have a family. I'll probably be ready in about a year or 75. So keep an eye out for your invitation to the worst egg hunt ever. 

Now please enjoy this clip that is EXACTLY like a conversation I had (except I looked far less like a woodland creature while speaking):

Happy Thanksgiving!

Hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. We ate a lot and shot a frozen turkey. What did you do?

Sunday Confessional: Fake-o the Faux Asthmatic

I hereby cancel Obsession Confession Sunday as it never quite fit in with the rest of Whitfield Awesome and quite frankly, I'm just not that into it. In it's place: Sunday Confessional. I will tell you a story that ranks somewhere between sorta and truely on the awful scale. And then invite you to do the same.

Today's confession: I still harbor a teenage grudge against Fake-o the Faux Asthmatic. 

When I was a teenager, I belonged to a youth group that spent a good part of each year learning choreography, doing rehearsing lines and getting in tune. Each summer, we traveled the southern United States for a week performing a musical. Mostly in churches but once we performed in Opryland! I'm 73% certain that we had nothing to do with the closing of Opryland.

One such summer, a fellow musicalician musician dork performer (known for attention seeking), decided that she simply MUST have asthma. She would convulse and put on quite the show. Mid-convulsion she would announce that she was having an asthma attack and needed an inhaler. I'm pretty sure she thought asthma and epilepsy were the same thing.

The group would crowd around her, terrified expressions, her closest pals on the verge of tears, and the leaders would demand that I hand over my inhaler. I'm an actual asthmatic, you see. I always have an emergency inhaler on me. I need it at least once a day but most people don't know this because asthma doesn't make you have a freaking seizure. The leaders knew about it because it was on the paperwork my parents filled out each year. I would begrudgingly hand over my inhaler. Once I even pretended not to have it on me and walked to my hotel room and back before handing it over because (a) I wanted to prove that she was a faker and (b) I'm kind of a douche.

These fake asthma attacks would make me so angry. She was stealing my disease thunder and doing a bad job of it. Not to mention I was certain that at some point on the trip, I would need the inhaler and all of my puffs would have been puffed into that lying slut troubled youth. Her asthma was miraculously cured during the same week that she came down with it. Guess it was the ole 96-hour asthmalepsy bug. That was 13+ years ago. I haven't seen this person in about as long. But any time I think back on those days, I think of Fake-o the Faux Asthmatic and still feel anger toward her. Issues. I gots em.

Your turn. Do you need to confess anything? I won't hate if you do so anonymously. I might think you a pansy but I won't know who you are, so who cares. Sharing is caring...

It's that special time of year again.

There's a chill in the Florida air. At least in the mornings and evenings. EVERY Floridian who goes outside mid-day still shouts the lyrics by that rap gentleman about sweat dripping down their genitalia. The chill let's me know it's that special time of year. The time when creatures of the night inhabit my attic.

They scurry as soon as my alarm goes off. This morning, I heard one shout "oh snap, she's awake...hide! Today will be the day that she climbs that scary as ish wooden ladder into the attic pre-shower. How does that thing support her weight?" Obviously they are wordy and far too concerned with vanity.

You are all invited to go into my attic and kill whatever you find and MAYBE get a microwaved hotdog for your effort my super awesome It's Winter! party. You'll need this field guide. Please print and bring your own. I'm not made of money.

Have you ever...

...run into Wal-Mart to pick up a few items and decided to check out in the garden center because it should be faster only to find yourself behind a woman with an overflowing buggy of games and dvds and makeup and foodstuffs who waits until the cashier rings up everything in said buggy to announce that she only has $12 and must have the cashier unring items one at a time until she brings her multi-hundred dollar bill down to $12.10 because she just can't live without anything that would bring her down to the $12 that she actually has so she starts calling people on her cell to bring her $0.10, which you could give her but by that time you are so mad that you want her to have to wait for someone to drive a dime over?

I have.

Vajazzling is Wack, Y'all

I finally have my million seller book idea! All thanks to a comment I recently made on Facebook that included the fictional book title "The New Church's Stance on Vaginas and Crystals: But Not Together Because Vajazzling is Wack, Y'all". Why everyone in the whole entire world is not clamoring to be my Facebook friend is beyond me. 

I've prepared a book proposal to send to publishers nation-wide. Let the bidding begin Penguin and Random House!

Do you want to see your name in paper and ink? Tell me about it so I can steal your ideas applaud you. (Don't worry, stealing takes effort and I much prefer television over effort.)

Touché Tuesday Advice Column: #Election2012

Need some Whitfield Awesome advice (about anything)? Fill out this form.   

Happy election day to my fellow Americans! I hope you exercised your right, even if we don't agree on the man for the job. Now stop watching George Stephanopoulos* and read my blog! I saved up all YOUR election related questions...

7:09 PM. Made it. After only 1.5 hrs of adults coughing on me and kids rubbing my butt
and punching my purse, I did my part and voted to keep Ron Swanson as a FL Judge. That
was the important one in this election, right? #MeatTornado2012

Dear Jen,
I feel sure that my guy isn't going to win the election. How do I deal?
Civic Dude-y

Dear The Dude,
Look at the two candidates. Nobody wins. Eat a cheese danish. That always makes me even fatter feel better.
♥ Jen

Dear Jen,
I'm finally old enough to vote. All this election business is exciting! But also confusing. What does voting with your feet mean?
All the best, Googleless

Dear, Googleless,
This should be obvious. Wear shiny new Chrisitan Louboutins = a vote for Romney. Wear old ill-fitting loafers = a vote for Obama. 
♥ Jen

Dear Jen,
Should I bring my super annoying children with me to vote and not discipline them, like, at all?
Clueless in MN, Dumb-Dumb McTrashy

Dear DD, 
No.
♥ Jen

*When I type "Stephanopoulos", spell check thinks I mean "postmenopausal". 

Week O' Ween: G-G-G-Ghost Hunting

Not Quite TAPS of Florida. We were all sore afraid. Except Chocolate Dream. He was pretty chill.

One of America's most haunted lighthouses, the Pensacola Lighthouse, is right in my backyard (plus a 45 minute drive). Even TAPS has spent a night there. I've been on ten or so ghost hunts at the lighthouse with the Ghost Seekers of Texas. I go on the hunts mostly because it's fun to roam a historic building in the dark with your friends, you learn a bit of history and the proceeds support the lighthouse museum. 

Do I believe in ghosts? I don't know. I believe in God and Jesus and the devil and demons. I don't believe dead people are walking the earth - if ghostly figures do exist, it's something else. I am also fascinated by the human brain. The way it works. The way it remembers things like how to type or play an instrument and moves your fingers so quickly. The way it can convince you that you are seeing or experiencing something that may not really be there. I used to want to be a brain scientist until I figured out that people who use the term "brain scientist" aren't smart enough to be whatever brain scientists are really called. 

On to the point of this post. I carry my own voice recorder on hunts because the GST are crap at posting evidence online (♥). I want my own recordings to listen to immediately. Plus it's funny to go back and listen to that moment when so-in-so was scared or the truly awful southern twang I sometimes get. The following recording is from November 27, 2009. My sister and I and a few friends went on a hunt at the lighthouse. There are a few things on the recording that we did not hear during the hunt:

• There are a few spots in the beginning that sound like a whispered "help me". People were talking and moving around (annoying!) so I can't swear that this isn't someone fooling around. 
• At 3 minutes, 17 seconds, I ask "are you attached to this couch" and hear a "no".
• Around 6.5 minutes in, a few of us (me, my sister Sarah, Noelle and Choco-Dream), break off from the main group and go into another room....
• At 7:15, a very distinct "they're back" and "shh" is heard (my sister and I had been at the lighthouse one month prior). The recorder was in my hand. We were getting settled at a table to one side of the room. No one was close enough to me to whisper into it. 
• At 7:34, after the question "Do you like people being in the house?" a male voice, not that of Choc, says "yeah". 

Listen to the recording. Make of it what you will. Happy Halloween. Mwahahahaha.

Week O' Ween: The Happy

Happy Halloween! What are you dressing up as this year?
Let's all get out there and not be slutty anything. Oh who am I kidding? I wasn't wearing pants when this photo was taken.

Week O' Ween: Touché Tuesday Advice Column

Need some Whitfield Awesome advice (about anything)? Fill out this form.    

I saved up your spookiest questions for the Week O' Ween edition of Touché Tuesday, y'all. 

Ghosts of Milton - Is that a chicken foot or are you just happy to see me?

Dear Jen,
I figured out where you live. Sometimes I watch you through your windows. How do you like them apples?
Love, Tom

Dear Tom,
Please let me know if any of the moles on my back change. I can't see those.
♥ Jen

Dear Jen,
I think my house is haunted. What do I do?!?
Help, Scared Almost to Death

Dear Scared,
Gather the following items: salt, a crucifix, a flashlight and extra batteries, Ghostbusters 1 on DVD, an EMF detector, a lighter, snacks, a Bible and a ball. Then move to a new house - dang, girl.
 ♥ Jen

Dear Jen,
I hear voices inside my head. Not like my conscience - voices that don't belong to me. I don't mind them most of the time but sometimes they ask me to do things I'm uncomfortable with. Do you have any tips for getting rid of them? 
All the Best, Insane in the Membrane

Dear Insane,
Voices in your head - mind them. That's funny. What were we talking about?
♥Jen

Dating a beef steak, ah yeah!

Last week I was gchatting with the most recent ex because omg I still do that what's wrong with me and we were talking about steak cooked in water. Let's all just go ahead and agree: that sounds awful. He swears it's life-changingly good. 

We got to comparing steaks to boyfriends (as in boyfriends for me - he still swims in the lady pond). He trying to convince me that steak is better than a man with the "steaks don't argue" and the "steaks will always be there for you in your time of need". Me trying to convince him that steaks are exactly like a man with the "steaks are often cold in the middle" and the "steaks never hear anything you say". 

Of course, in an effort to prove myself right, I dated a steak. I did it for all the women who are independent, throw your hands up at me. Sort of. Mostly I did it because I needed a stupid good prompt and I like proving myself right.* 

Let's do this: (Because I used part of an Avett Bros song, YouTube will not allow this vid to be viewed on a mobile device. I understand. Surely everyone thinks I wrote and performed the song. Until I find a YouTube approved song that works as perfectly with this video as the AB song, please view on a computer. Like people did in the olden days. Thank you.)


*Yes, I realize that dating a steak proves something else entirely.

P.S. YouTube informs me that I am now approved to upload videos up to 15 minutes long. Blame them for the future.

Obsession Confession Sunday: Candy Edition

It's almost national eat candy until you barf day and here are 5 candies I'm currently obsessed with:

1. Godiva Dark Chocolate Sea Salt Bar: it's savory and sweet. And Godiva. That's really all you need to know.
2. Peanut Butter M&Ms - my favorite no fuss, no muss candy. For casual days.
3. Russell Stover Cream Filled: If I ever saw a box of strawberry cream filled only for sale, I'd buy my weight in them and hide in a cave until I needed more. So, for like an hour.
4. Lindt Pistachio: I usually don't like milk chocolate, but when it's filled with white almond creme and a whole pistachio, I can get down with it.
5. Lindt White Coconut: I pretty much love anything and everything with coconut in it. And white chocolate is one of my favorite types of chocolate. I miss Nestle's Alpine White Bar every. day. of. my. life.

Tell me about your faves. Then go forth and eat.

Touché Tuesday Advice Column: Quick Fire

Need some Whitfield Awesome advice (about anything)? Fill out this form.    

So MSN had Caroline Manzo answer nine of YOUR toughest questions. Probably because they couldn't get me on the phone. I never answer the phone unless it's a cute boy or a peanut butter M&M for life contest winner announcer. Plus, MSN, you really need to start using email.

My answers to Caroline's questions...

Dear Jen,
How do I handle a mean girl at work?
Love, Wimpy

Dear Wimpy,
You really shouldn't be handling girls at work. They'll get you on sexual harrassment.
♥ Jen

Dear Jen,
How do I know if my pre-wedding jitters are normal or a sign I should call the whole thing off?
Love, Scared

Dear Scared,
I'm pretty sure everyone who has ever gotten married had pre-wedding jitters. Quite frankly, I'm tired of hearing about them. Write me when have better jitters. Like I'm about to start raising 465 guinea fowl jitters.
♥Jen

Dear Jen,
How do I ask my boss for a raise?
Love, Underpaid

Dear Underpaid,
With one eye closed and biting down on a stick. 
♥Jen

Dear Jen, 
How can I be supportive of both my parents during a divorce without taking sides?
Love, Torn

Dear Torn,
Are you kidding. Take sides! Both of them. 3 words: double Christmas presents.
♥Jen

Dear Jen,
How can I get my husband to be more romantic?
Love, Wanting More

Dear Wanting More,
By refusing to have sex with him. I think your husband submitted a question to my column: "My wife hasn't caught on to the whole withholding sex thing. How did I get so lucky (pun intended)?"
♥ Jen

Dear Jen,
How can I learn to feel more comfortable and confident in my own skin?
Love, Insecure

Dear Insecure,
Great. Now I'm thinking of you with no skin. Thanks. 
♥Jen

Dear Jen,
I'm terrified of dating after my divorce. How do I get back out there?
Love, Single Again

Dear Single,
I may not be the best person to ask about this. Exhibit A: this post.
♥ Jen

Dear Jen,
I'm falling in love with my close male friend. Should I tell him how I feel?
♥ Lova

Dear Lova,
Do you want to be the next person asking about pre-wedding jitters and unromantic husbands and dating after divorces? Then no. 
♥ Jen

Dear Jen,
My parents won't stop nagging me about getting married - how can I politely tell them to butt out?
Love, Single For the First Time

Dear Firsty,
Like this: "Hey guy, butt out."
♥Jen

If for some reason you really want to read Caroline's answers, gotohere.

Obsession Confession Sunday: Video Killed the Radio Star

5 Videos I'm Currently Obsessesed With:

One of my fave Supernatural moments.


I sorta have a huge girl crush on Melissa McCarthy.


I want to be Meow Meow Music Episode 3 when I grow up.


What do you think Winona Ryder is doing right now?


Lastly and most PG-13-ly, the JGL SNL opener. That's not a monologue.  
(If you are reading this in Google Reader, for some reason this vid doesn't like to show up there. Lame.)

Asian-Corgi-Honor Student

An Asian friend (why's he gotta be Asian - cause that's an integral part of the story) recently noted that he had spotted a "my Corgi is smarter than your honor student" bumper sticker. His response to this quip: "yeah well, I'm Asian. I eat your Corgi."

I made the game, Asian-Corgi-Honor Student in his honor. It's like rock-paper-scissors with flash cards. Feel free to print and play for hours on end.

Immunize me for everything a dirty crackhead might have. Please.

Today's story is brought to you by crack rock, the letter X and Target!

I hightailed it to Target during lunch today as I HAD to have lip butter, deodorant, 9V batteries and salmon dip. You know, the usge. 

While waiting in line to check out, the woman in front of me, whom I'm fairly certain was a crackhead, dropped a wad of cash. And didn't notice. I waited. And prayed. Please God, let her see that she dropped her wad of cash. I don't want to touch it. Pppplllleeeaasseee don't make me touch it. I imagine it to be like a bird's nest. A bird's nest of hair, asphalt, Cheetos, crack cocaine and dollar dollar bills, y'all. 

Of course she (let's call her CC) didn't notice. Her daughter, with her mouth wired shut and shorts smaller than my tiniest underwear, returned from the snack bar to report that the snack steward did not have a blender and therefore could not blend any of the snacks into a drinkable delight leaving her with nothing but a stupid slushy. They both danced and twitched that crazy crackhead shuffle around the wad of cash without noticing it. 

After it had become obvious that they were never going to see it, I finally picked up the wad <sticky; don't barf> and tried to return it to CC. "I think you dropped this" ... "is this yours" ... "ma'am" ... "excuse me" ... "I believe this MONEY belongs to you" ... "ma'am" ... "look, dollars!" ... "hey" ... "money, money, money" ... "LADY take this friggin' money from me NOW!" 

She finally looked over and grabbed at the money, fully molesting my hand in the process. Then glared at me like I had picked her pocket. After a few minutes she did turn and say thank you between detox shivers. Then coughed all over everything in sight. 

Later I got a stiff neck and a terrible headache. The only explanation is that I caught crackhead. One of the perks (?) of working at a hospital is that they want to immunize the bull crap out of you. No shot record, no problem...we'll give you one of each. Two if you are a good girl! 

Wanna Hep B Booster? Sure! Tetanus? It's the bestanus! 

Flu Shot? Of course. In fact, everyone who gets a flu shot gets a green dot on their employee badge. Please shame everyone you see without a green dot. We suggest yo momma jokes!

So I'm thinking I'll head over to BigShotz tomorrow and ask for a double. That's the nurse's station in HR. Also, it may not be called that. 

Tell me about the last time you touched a crackhead! I can't afford a therapist and I want to believe that this is normal.

Squirrels Are Jerks & Train is Awful

I once ran over the back legs of a squirrel. Just the back legs. He used his front legs to drag himself away.

For a while I figured he chewed his legs off and bled out next to the highway. But it has become clear that he met up with Train and inspired the lyric "got run over by a crappy purple Scion". He did this partly because I drive a crappy purple Scion and ran over him. But mostly because he knows how much I hate Train. Squirrels are jerks and Train is awful. They almost got me with that Hey Soul Sister song. Then I remembered that I don't smoke weed. 

It's possible that this haunts me. Also, I just noticed how much squirrels look like hot dogs. Anything you need to confess? 

Single and ready to mingle, if by mingle you mean...

...choose a plot at St. Mary's. 

In the last couple of months I have heard the following statements:

• "I didn't get married young. I was older. Waaaaayyyy older. I was, like, 28."
• "I can't imagine how it would feel to be in my thirties and still not married."
• "Men need to straighten up. We're the reason we're not getting married until we're older. I mean, I was thirty before I got married."

I am thirty-one. 30+1. 31. And I have never, no, not once, not ever been married. Ever. 

Now, if you are reading this and you happen to be one of the wordsmiths who crafted one of these quotes, do not fret. I do not remember who said them. I am the most interesting man and/or woman in the world. Just keeping up with all the crap I say is totally hard. I don't have time to remember the specifics around what others say. 

Do I want to be married? I think so. Do I feel inadequate for not being married yet? Not usually. 

Sometimes I see really gross/mean/stupid people wearing wedding bands and wonder how they found someone to make it work with but I can't. Obviously I stop to make up stories about their gross spouse, who may or may not be part or fully mule, and the disgusting way they met and the stupid ways they keep the fire burning. Then I'm late for a very important date or my 16 gallons of ice cream have melted all over my cat food and body pillow cover*. So thanks for that, married people. Thanks. 

To sum things up:

This is totally worth clicking on to view larger.
Duh - it was made by the most interesting man and/or woman in the world.

*This has never actually happened because I don't like ice cream** very much. It may have happened with peanut butter m&ms though. That's what I get for shopping at Florida's Finest Outdoor August Candy Shop - Now shade-free!

**This is probably why no one wants to marry me.

I Still Love You

Sorry Jen hasn't updated her blog much lately. You look good though.
(And she has some things planned.)

Obsession Confession Sunday

5 Things I'm Currently Obsessed With:

1. JC Penney. No really. The clothes have gotten sooo much better and the prices aren't bad. I think their new slogan should be "Not just for grandmas anymore."
2. Yo Yos. The fabric kind. I need 2,000 of them to make a queen-sized quilt and I estimate that it'll only take about 300 hours to make them. Only. 300. Hours.
3. Face brushes. Specifically the Olay Pro X, cause that's the one I have. I swear my face looks and feels smoother. 
4. Home Improvement. I replaced the vanity light in my master bath today. I'm hoping it will inspire me to complete the other projects I started (months ago) that are keeping my house in disarray. A girl can dream.
5. My Kitchenaid mixer. Because it stopped working. What? I thought Kitchenaid was king of the world or something.

What are you thinking about?

Touché Tuesday Advice: On Honeymoons & Jobs

Need some Whitfield Awesome advice (about anything)? Fill out this form.    

One of the following questions concerns honeymoon activities. If you allow your seven-year-old to keep reading over your shoulder, it's not my fault. Can seven-year-old's read? I have no concept of child development. Do they even have their eyes open at this point?

The above image has nothing to do with anything in this post because this is my blog and I can do that.

Dear Jen,
I'm getting married soon and it's a pain. Also, my fiance's parents are making everything more difficult than it should be. I think this is because my fiance is an only child and his parents have nothing better to do than interfere with everything in his/our life. Anyhow, I want to know if I'm being a complete b***h or if wedding stress is just getting to me. My fiance's parents have very generously offered to pay for a really expensive and totally awesome trip for us for our honeymoon. But there's a catch.

They want to go too. Yeah, because the trip is that awesome and they don't see their son that much (he moved across the country to live with me). Now, if it were any other trip I don't think I'd have a problem, but I'm supposed to be banging the living daylights out of their son on this trip, and if his parents come along, I don't think that will happen. Actually, I know it won't, because I'm going to be a b***h and not put out. So am I really being an ungrateful b***h on wanting my honeymoon to be just the two of us? Am I being stupid for turning down an awesome trip just because my in-laws want to come along?

Frustrated, Sexually on my Honeymoon

Deary SOMH,
Um, no. Your in-laws cannot go on your honeymoon. That's insane and they should know that. Since you technically are not their "daughter" yet, your fiance should put a stop to this. Try some subtle hints like:

1. Hey guy, it's your mom or my vagina. Ball's in your court. Balls won't be anywhere near my court unless you tell your rents to stay home.
2. I got a new book for the honeymoon. It's called Your Mom and no one has sex in it.
3. I can't wait for you to see the wedding night panties I got...for your mom.
4. Yo momma's so fat (pause) I won't have sex with you.
5. Is that a banana in your pocket or your dad?

I'm dying to know how this turns out. Keep me posted. (And since everything in the whole wide world is ultimately about me, let's all take a moment and acknowledge that I just won the internet with #2 up there.)

♥ Jen

Dear Jen,
You've written about job loss and job gains before, so hopefully you can help. My sister just lost her job due to financial layoffs. She's trying to make the best of it, especially since she wasn't happy with her employer. She's been actively job searching while figuring out if she should go back to school or what kind of job she wants. I think she's doing great dealing with it, and I feel it's totally reasonable for her to have some bad days mixed in with the good. On those tough days, what can I do to help her? I will support any decision she makes, and speak with her often, so I'm there telling her that it's okay to take a morning or day off (of job hunting) and relax, but I'm also there to encourage her to get a move on after a day break.

What can I do or say to help her during this tough time. I know she's sick of people saying "you'll find something" "enjoy your time off" "oh, it's like a vacation, right?".

Hopefully you can help.
Sincerely, Sister Sister

Dear Sister Sister,
It sounds like you are doing a great job of being supportive and encouraging, yet firm. When I was given notification of lay-off, I was ashamed. I knew it wasn't my fault, but I couldn't help feeling like a failure. I really didn't like people talking to me about it at all. I wanted to pretend that no one knew. BUT my sister is one of a few people in my life I can be completely transparent with. I am immeasurably thankful for that relationship. I'm  glad your sister has you.

On those tough days, let her be sad or angry or whatever she needs to be. But mostly, treat her like you always do. Job loss can feel dehumanizing. Someone who treats you like you instead of like you without a job is refreshing. She knows she needs to find a job. It's probably consuming her every thought. It's unlikely that she needs folks reminding her to find a job or making light of it (vacation comments, ugh). 
♥Jen

Dear Jen,
I love getting my career started but I hate other people, managers, having a say so in said career path. How should I accept not being the boss of me entirely? I am not used to this method of work.
Boss Lady Attitude, Eyelashes B.

Dear B.,
My career has always included working for someone else. I do a bit of freelancing but have never relied solely on my freelance income. I don't know how it feels to be the boss of me entirely. But I do know that there are perks to working for the man. 

Things like a steady paycheck come to mind. A sense of security. Not having to deal with crap like payroll, benefits, making budget, reimbursing unhappy clients, etc. There can be something supremely easy and relaxing about knowing that someone else makes sure there is a place to work and projects to work on. Allow yourself to enjoy just doing your work and not worrying about the rest. 

Or be a complete diva and act like you are still the boss of you entirely. For some strange reason, people who act that way in the corporate world receive promotions. And cookies that someone spat in.
♥Jen

Pretty Much the Coolest Thing Ever: A Digital Quilt Project Update

You know that kid in college that always screwed up the curve with their smarts and whatnot? Well, in the land of Whitfield Awesome, that kid is Veronika. Check out the quilt she made using illustrations from my Digital Quilt Project. It's pretty much the coolest thing ever.

Confession: I'm behind on illustrations. I just completed the one below and I plan to knock out quite a few this weekend. If you haven't submitted a word or phrase yet...go to here! Or read more info here! Or see all the illustrations here!

Nontraditional traditionalist. Or whatever.

Clora here is obviously a type 3 - must be impressive and attractive to survive.

Hello. My name is Jen. And I love personality tests. My coworkers and I all took this Enneagram test and will be discussing the results/how to work effectively as a team of humans later this week in a personality workshop.

The Enneagram divides human personality into nine behavioral tendencies. Ideally the results of the test reveal a main personality type that is quite dominant. I took the test three times, on three different days (which tells you a little something about my personality) and got the same results each time...two different types within two (2!) points of one another. Type 4 (individualism) just edges out type 1 (perfectionism).

Type 4 (The Eccentric) - must be unique to survive, romanticize differentness, edgy, creative/artistic, intuitive, authentic, nontraditional,  revolutionary, non-conformist, peculiar, abstract, alternative, experimental, complex, random, attracted to the mysterious,  prone to excess, intense, mystical 

Type 1 (The Dutiful Worker) - must be perfect to survive, obsessive compulsive, attention to detail, focused on the narrow, ethical, hard-working, orderly, traditional, prefers structure, disciplined, practical, cautious, logical, goal-oriented, success-driven, achiever, prefers routine

So basically, I don't make sense. Tell you something you don't already know, right?

Have you taken the test? If not, go to there. What's your type?

P.S. I'm also an INFJ.

Touché Tuesday Advice Column

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This is the space where some really terrible advice for you could be.