Breaking news: I have a big mouth

I have many flaws.  The use of the word “many” is probably the biggest lie I have told today.   I’m UBER flawed.  Deal with it. Aren’t we all? Doesn’t it make life beautiful?  
 
One of my largest flaws - I have a big mouth.  And not big, like I can stick my whole fist in my mouth- which is really weird btw.  When I see someone do that I just really get wigged out and feel weird on the inside.  And not big, like Ramona Singer big mouth.  She’s just mean* and has weird body language that makes me uncomfortable, also on the inside.  My big mouth says inappropriate things that are funny.  Sometimes it says inappropriate things that are mean.  And then there’s the time when:
 
I was at a pool party.  It was a coworker/fellow student/friend who I harass on a regular basis. This is important to the story because you have to understand that I harass him to hang out, which he generally wisely chooses not to, except that one time he went to my wedding.  So the fact that he invited me to HIS house is like major.   He finally invited me and mine to his house for a pool partay!  Woot. Woot.  So I totally need to make a good impression.  I know his girlfriend but I know no one else.  And it’s a pool party which involves bathing suits.  So I do what any young outgoing married self-conscious woman would do in this situation.  I drink two bottles of wine (liquid courage y’all) at lightning speed and harass some guy I just met about his shaved chest. 
 
Jennie “wow you have no hair on your chest”
Stranger, uncomfortably laughing “yea”
Jennie “no but really how is that possible.  Where is the hair, is that natural?”
Stranger, laughing more uncomfortably “no I shave”
Jennie “REALLY?!!!! WHAT IS YOUR NAME?!”
Stranger “Bob” (ok his name was NOT Bob. However, this blog is about me. Not Strangers who shave their chests. And the names of the innocent will never be revealed.)
Several minutes goes by.  In drunk time, so that’s like a nano second in real time:
Jennie “Wow you really HAVE NO HAIR ON YOUR CHEST!!!!!!”
Again, an hour or so later
Jennie “I mean there is like no hair.  Is there stubble? Do you have hair on your back?  Do you shave your back? Why do you shave your chest? How often do you shave your chest?” ::whispering to my friend:: “he has no hair on his chest at all- that is not normal but really I can’t stop staring.” 
 
I will likely never be invited back but I did score an accepted Facebook Friend Request by BOB!!!! Now I can stalk the hell out of him and his shaved chest.  (just kidding Bob, I’m not a freak show.  Ok I’m a little bit of a freak show but not like weird scary freak show more like misunderstood and damaged freak show.  You know like dark & twisty on the inside (that’s a Grey’s reference in case you din’it know). Bob, don’t unfriend me.  Actually, Bob it’s me not you- you probably should unfriend me.) 
 
This reminded me of the time when:
I was obsessed with buying bright green suspenders for two little boys for my wedding. In my defense the little boys were our ring bearers and I’m not a creeper luring little boys into my van with hot green suspenders.   Somewhere there right in the beginning of this story I led myself astray in a weird way… I feel weird. sorry ‘bout that.
 
I had a pair of bright green suspenders that we bought at Hot Topic ::clearing throat:: and they were too large for the 2.5 year old we bought them for.  So me and my posse, “Hope”, went to take them back.  Easy peasy. We strut in to the store and I waltz up to the counter saying hello to “Harley” who is identified on his name tag as “Assistant Manager.”  My good buddy Harley has piercings everywhere including a gauge in his ear the size of a dime.  He’s wearing black alls over and has a newsboy hat on.  Things are going well:
Jennie OVER ENTHUSIASTICALLY “I’d like to return these”
Harley UNDER ENTUSIASTICALLY “would you like to look around”
Jennie VERY NICELY “oh no thanks”
Harley MONOTONE “are you sure we are having a sale”
Jennie “do I look like the kind of person who shops here?” laughing
And there it was. As soon as the words left my mouth I knew it was bad.  And it was.  It was really bad.  I started sweating almost immediately.  It was like instant swamp ass.  And he just looked at me.  Judging.  He was angry.  What do I do?  So then I started:
“oh hahaha, no you misunderstood. That was a joke.  I mean look at me.  I’m ridiculous looking. I didn’t mean you were ridiculous looking or that this place was ridiculous.  I mean this place is great. I shop here all the time. Well I don’t. But I should.  And I would!  I totally would.  Hahahaha that was meant to be funny, I’m not very funny. People tell me that all of the time. I should listen…to them…the people.”  I don’t understand at this point why I can’t stop having diarrhea of the mouth. But I can’t. It just won’t stop.  I just keep talking.
And what does Harley do? Harley stands there processing my return in the most judgmental way without saying a word to me. The entire time.  I’m sweating and creating sweat puddles on the counter, squirming in my swamp ass underwear uncontrollably whilst verbal diarrhea sprays all over him and he never flinches.  He was some Hot Topic Jedi Knight.  And then Harley says:
“I need your address and phone number here”
And what does Jennie say?  Uncomfortably laughing “well I’m kind of nervous to give you that information now.”
Harley stares burning through my preppy judgmental snobby soul. And Hope runs as fast as she can out the door.  And I pee myself. (ok I don’t really pee myself but I really wanted to.)
 
And this reminded me of the time when:
 
I take a lot of drugs.  Ha, my mother is pissing herself right now.  JENNIFER LYNN! Ha. What I meant was, I take a lot of herbal remedies.  Because I’m a dirty hippy. I went to the herbalist (yes that’s a real thing) to get some insight on something natural I could take for my bitchiness.  I’m serious.  Instead of being able to talk to the herbalist I found myself talking to “Chucky Boy.”  Chucky Boy was so nice to me.  But he obviously had a little OCD or something.  While talking to me he kept making sure all the labels were facing the front of aisle, which made me want to then turn the labels back to being just askew.  More importantly, this happened right before my wedding when I was really feeling a lot of stress and anxiety. Here’s what winning ticket Chucky Boy chose to help that day:
 
Jennie “I’M LOOKING FOR SOMETHING TO HELP ME WITH MY ANXIETY”
Chucky Boy – very calmly…so strangely calmly…. “can you tell me more about that?”  And I say this with no disrespect but it became painfully clear that Chucky Boy had some kind of autism.  He was very high functioning which was good because I was not.
Jennie (and Chucky Boy is like 7 feet tall and I’m a troll so I’m looking up the entire time and my neck is beginning to hurt so I’m kind of twitching) “WELL I’M GETTING MARRIED AND MY FAMILY IS A LITTLE CRAZY AND I’M FEELING LIKE I’M LOSING MY MIND AND I REALLY HAVE A LOT OF THINGS GOING ON AND MY FIANCE JUST PLAYS VIDEO GAMES IN HIS UNDERWEAR IN HIS FREE TIME AND MY ANXIETY MAKES ME SWEAT A LOT AND I’M AFRAID TO BE ON MEDICATION EVEN THOUGH MY THERAPIST REALLY THINKS THAT I SHOULD (and then I begin to sob) AND I REALLY JUST DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO BECAUSE I CANT GET PREGNANT WHEN I’M ON ANTI DEPRESANTS AND I THINK I WANT TO HAVE A BABY BUT NOT RIGHT NOW I DON’T THINK ALTHOUGH I DON’T KNOW ANYMORE I’M SO CONFUSED IN GENERAL BUT I KNOW THAT I’M NOT MANAGING WELL MYSELF AND I NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT I MEAN I’M GETTING MARRIED AND DON’T WANT TO LOOK LIKE A WHITE SAUSAGE IN MY DRESS BUT I AM SO OVERWHELMED WITH LOSING WEIGHT BECAUSE YOU SEE I’M SO ANXIOUS (sniffles and sobs) AND I REALLY JUST NEED SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEETHINGGGGGG.” Oh and I’m holding several bottles of things that begin to fall out of my hands and my purse begins to slip from my shoulder so I’m really just one large hot mess.
Chucky Boy is standing with his giantness staring at me probably thinking “get me the hell out of here” but instead sweet loveable OCD Chucky Boy walks over to a very big book and starts looking for something called Holy Basil to which I say:
 
“OH NO. I’M NOT RELIGIOUS.  IT’S A BIG ISSUE FOR BOTH MY FAMILY AND MY FIANCE’S FAMILY (and I begin to sob again) WE AREN’T GETTING MARRIED IN A CHURCH OR REALLY HAVING ANYTHING RELIGIOUS HAPPENING AT OUR WEDDING. I BANNED JESUS. I BANNED JESUS!?  BUT I MEAN I AM WHO I AM RIGHT? I CAN’T LIKE CHANGE BECAUSE OF THEM.  AND THEY ARE ALWAYS BRINGING IT UP AND THEN MY FUTURE FATHER IN LAW AND HUSBAND GET MAD BUT THEY BAIT ME AT THE DINNER TABLE. WHAT AM I SUPPOOOOOOOOOSSSSSEDEEEEDDDD TO DO WHEN GRAM BAITS ME AT THE DINNER TABLE ABOUT GOD AND POLITICS.”
 
Holy Basil is an herb that helps anxiety and mood. I bought several bottles.
 
 
*here’s my one and only disclaimer (ok that is probably a lie, I will probably now have a disclaimer in every one of my posts because I like to use words like disclaimer and use asterisks; what a fun little punctuation mark.) I like Real Housewives of [insert City here].  I like Bravo. I really like Andy Cohen.  I will probably reference one of the above at least once a post if not more.  I may devout an entire post to Andy and all of his hilarious and witty antics.  If you don’t watch the above then a) shame on you.  2) you should start it will change your life. Last) use this as an opportunity for me to educate you on popular culture- I’m pedantic in that way. This is about you.  I’m merely offering my services to make the world a better place.  Bravo makes the world a better place.