I turned 24 today.

This blog also got its 50,000th hit today.

It’s a good day.

It’s been so long since I’ve blogged for myself, I had a hard time remembering my WordPress password. That could’ve been a crisis.

Distracted – Since I last posted on this blog, I’ve gained the ability to add a contact form, polls, and so much more! I just might have to start doing this again!

24. What’s this year going to be like?

I stopped writing the blog halfway through 23 because I write all the time at work. Great things – certainly not things that make me not like writing – but enough to keep me off my laptop when I get home from spending 9 hours looking at my laptop. Among a couple commercial scripts, blogs, websites, etc… I wrote a cartoon this summer. With made-up characters, worlds and everything.

It’s pretty much the coolest thing someone’s ever handed me to do.

Distracted – this song I’ve been playing randomly and far too often without knowing who it was is Hootie of Hootie & the Blowfish!

Outside of work, a lot less writing. And a few of you have said, “Ah Janae, we don’t even know you anymore! No goofy stories that only happen to you, no creepy guys hitting on you like every time you tried to be social in college…”

So here… A few stories.

1) The one night I returned to a Syracuse bar with college friends this year, a big beer-bellied drunk middle-aged man came over to us and cornered us in the coat room of no escape to tell us he was getting married, lift his shirt up to his neck, and ask us if his nipples are too hairy.


So there you go.

2) I was recently in a rib-eating competition. “But why would you enter that, Janae? That sounds disgusting!”

Because I was being nice to the female bartender. Because she said she just wanted to put our names in the very full hat, and IF one of our names got picked, hey the WORST thing that could happen is you get a free dinner. So then I went through the process of thinking, “Hey, maybe the sweet bartenders get credit for how many names they recruit to put in the hat, she’s been nice tonight, I’ll enter. They’ll NEVER pick me.”

Hi, is this Janae? Hi, this is Emily from Dinosaur BBQ. Your name was pulled for the rib-eating contest next Thursday at 7 p.m. Are you still available to join us for dinner?”

And I say yes, and I go, as do 15 OF MY COWORKERS. And obviously The Boy (this is me protecting his safety by making him anonymous, as if famous me has 1000s of readers  – I don’t know whether I was more nervous about returning home or to work.

So I get there, and the radio DJ says for all contestants to check in when you arrive, so I do.

“OH! Good thing we brought a girl’s shirt.”

Am.. am I the only girl?

Of course I am. It’s me and 7 big guys with beards and ponytails and twice my weight each competing for 2 tickets to Pittsburgh for hotel & seeing Wiz Khalifa, Matt & Kim and The Killers. Let me tell you, I don’t think any of the eight of us were really fans of any of those bands.

We all had three minutes to eat as many ribs as we could. We had beer to wash it down. With my half-rack of ribs, I didn’t come in last… I beat one guy. GOOD ENOUGH!




Luckily, I have the best friends and coworkers who can come out to enjoy that awful, embarrassing visual, and only make good, light-hearted jokes about it in the days afterward. Even if in the moment they were yelling at me to focus and stop smiling and making friends.

3) Boy and I got fish for our apartment. We had a few hours to fill yesterday before going to our sushi dinner, so we bought live fish to hang out with. Our 38-cent ghost shrimp coordinated some sad suicide pact overnight though, and we found them together this morning like it was the end of The Notebook. The others are cute, though. They don’t pose for pictures.


When I stopped writing at home, I started painting. The results have been mixed, but it’s been a lot of fun.

I’ve shown this before, the first one I did…

Here are a few since:





Just think of my joy if someday I could write AND illustrate my children’s books?

Well, getting me one step closer to figuring out what’s possible, The Boy set me up with private (2-3 students at a time) lessons with this amazing painter just down the street from work. One four-hour evening session a week for a month. And of course, should I love it which I will, I can choose to go back for more lessons. Oil painting – I’m very excited.

That’s the scoop! That’s what I’ve been up to. If you’re ever wondering what happened to all those 9-10 p.m.’s I used to use to blog, now it’s either painting or watching the West Wing. I’ve never seen it, and we’re on season 3.

Speaking of which, I hear the theme song playing now… that’s it for now!


4 thoughts on “Twenty-four

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