Snapshots of a… Crazy Kinda Life

The Misadventures of Messie Jessie

The Pet Peeve Chronicles: Misconceptions About Human Bodily Processes August 17, 2012

Filed under: All about me,Pet Peeves — Messie Jessie @ 8:25 pm
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This installment of the Pet Peeve Chronicles is best expressed through a recent email exchange:


Photo too teeny? Click the pic to make it bigger on your screen-y!


Yes, that was a real email. Yes, I was emailing about pooping. Yes, if you exchange emails with me, you too can expect the topic of poop to plop out at some point.

To read more in the Pet Peeve Chronicles series, click here


Remember how I said like a second ago that we could email about poop? Drop me a line (and maybe a deuce) at and we’ll shoot the shit for a while.

If you prefer to be silent but deadly, make a stink when you Rate, Comment, Subscribe and Share!


The Pet Peeve Chronicles: Trap Talkers June 14, 2012

Filed under: Pet Peeves — Messie Jessie @ 10:50 pm
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You’ve got something you are doing, and you are right in the middle of doing it.

Maybe you are just about to grab the last item on your grocery list before heading to the check-out line. Or maybe you’re walking to your boss’s annual backyard barbeque, for which you are already a solid hour late. Perhaps the last bite of your Thanksgiving dinner is making its way down your esophagus and you’ve decided that right now would be the perfect time for a nap.

Whatever it is that you are doing, it no longer matters. You see, as you were going about your business, you caught sight of someone, and they caught sight of you.  Eye contact has been made and there’s no turning back.

You’ve just been apprehended by the Trap Talker.

You look away, put your head down and try to make a sly move toward the door. But the Trap Talker smiles and as they walk in your direction, you think to yourself, “I’m never going to get away.”

We all know the type. They’ve only got one topic, and that topic is them. You will hear all about their colitis and how they had to wean back on solid foods after a week and a half of ingesting nothing but chicken broth and diet cola. You don’t give a crap about the state of their lower gastrointestinal track, but the Trap Talker doesn’t care. All the Trap Talker cares about is that they finish their story as it seamlessly transitions into the next.

You anxiously switch your weight from one leg to the other. You turn your shoulder so your body faces away from them.

It doesn’t matter what you do; they have no understanding of basic body language or any sense of social cues. You can slowly step away but they will follow you. You can look away but they will grab your arm and force your attention back on them. They will scarcely notice your glazed over look, as you mentally plan out how you might rearrange your office if you decide to bring in that old bookcase from home.

You check your watch.

Time means nothing to the Trap Talker. Your carton of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream slowly drips down your arm as you try to shake off the gnats that are looking for a refreshing July-afternoon snack. You manage to squeeze in a “I’ve got to run”, but the Trap Talker barely acknowledges your statement as they blather about how the property tax increase is going to affect their ability to contribute to their 401k.

Get comfortable, my friends. You’re going to be here for a while.

In the meantime, please enjoy this video I made:



Ever been Trap Talked? Are YOU a Trap Talker? Share your stories here when you Rate, Comment, Subscribe, Share!

Got something to say? Shoot me an email at and Trap Talk away. I’m all yours.


My Favorite Way To Get Dumped Is… August 4, 2011

Filed under: Pet Peeves,Venting — Messie Jessie @ 8:27 pm
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… When Dude updates his relationship status on Facebook, and it’s not with me.



What’s yours?



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I believe that inanimate objects purposely try to annoy me June 29, 2011

Ever put your key in the lock but it won’t open, only to find yourself angrier at the door than you probably should be?

How about when you you try to put a box of cereal back in the cupboard but it suddenly won’t fit back in its spot no matter how perfectly it fit there in the first place or how many times you try to cram it back in, then feel a surge of inappropriate rage in your heart towards the, now crumpled, box in your hands?

Yeah, me too.

For example, I own smart phone. Since it’s the first of it’s generation, it tends to be a little dumber than some of its competitors.

On more occasions than I can count, I’ll be happily clicking on a regularly used app when suddenly my phone starts running really slooooow. I’ll tap the screen a few times, thinking maybe that will make it respond. It doesn’t. I get irritated.

Then I wait. And wait. Then the phone goes dark because it was idle too long and went into powersave mode. I can feel the anger growing inside.

Next, I have to hit the “on” button to get the screen to turn back on, but because it’s running slow it doesn’t respond, so I hit it again. Naturally, what happens the millisecond just before I hit that button? The screen flashes back on.

But since I hit “on” when it technically was “on” the phone thought I meant “off” so the screen goes dark again. Now I’m seriously getting pissed.

My phone and I play this cat and mouse game a good three times over before I say to it, “I bet you think this is funny, don’t you?”

My phone mocks me by finally bringing the screen back on when I push the “on” button a final time. Then, as I go back to the app I was trying to open, up pops a notification that reads “This application is not responding. What would you like to do? [Force Close]  [Cancel]”

As I click [Force Close], I think to the phone, “You and I both knew you were going to do that all along. Jerk.”

Or here’s another example: As I get ready for work, I take a necklace I haven’t worn in a while out of my jewelry box to wear for the day. Somewhere between unhooking the clasp and putting it around my neck, the necklace swings itself around and becomes knotted.

I whisper to the chain, “You knew I was running late already and now you’re trying to make me even later.”

The necklace scoffs at me as I carefully lay it on the bathroom sink and gently tug and the individual links to pull the chain free from itself. But it doesn’t matter how careful and attentive I am; the necklace is probably upset because I haven’t worn it in such a long time that it’s retaliating by refusing to untangle so that I won’t be able to wear it today anyway.

It’s only spiting itself, but it doesn’t care. It’s making me mad on purpose. And its tactics are working.


You may think that these silly antics are something I made up so that I could write an amusing blog post. But in all sincerity, I really do think these thoughts inside my head.

I mean, in the back of my mind I know that inanimate objects don’t have feelings or intentions or desires, but in those moments of frustration…


This photo has nothing to do with the story to your right, but I spent time making it so I'm going to use it anyway.

Just yesterday, while I was bringing in my recycling container, I had another experience:

Philadelphia gives out recycling containers for free but I never went to one of the local repositories to pick up my blue “Philadelphia Recycles” bin. I had always just put my cans & bottles in a paper bag on the curb. One day a blue bin mysteriously found it’s way in front of my stoop. Since it had no address labeled in black Sharpee on it, it seemed to me the poor thing had been abandoned and was now mine for the taking. The bin had an existing, and large, crack on the side but I didn’t mind. It was now my recycling container and I loved it regardless of its imperfections.

Yesterday, after the recycling man did his duty, I picked up my empty container and attempted to slide it back in its snug resting spot between the front of the house and a large planter pot, but it wouldn’t go in. Somewhere, the crack had gotten caught on a metal rail on one of the basement windows.

I pulled the bin back out and tried to glide it in again. Still stuck. I tried to locate the exact place the crack was getting caught so that I could remedy the problem, but I couldn’t find any plastic-on-metal friction.

The only logical conclusion I could come to was that the metal rail wasn’t keen on having the recycling bin in front of it, so it was intentionally blocking my efforts in a clandestine manner.

What did I do? Well, first I tried to cram that baby in there as hard as I could. Noting that this action was making the existing crack worse, I thought to myself, “And this is exactly what that damn metal rail wanted to happen.”

After taking a few moments to resume my composure, I calmly moved the planter, placed the recycling bin where it rightfully belonged, and slid everything back into place.

Then I promptly kicked the metal rail. It deserved it.


If you’ve ever felt this way yourself, you’re not alone.

Heck, you should even see if your friends have ever felt this way too. Wanna know a good way to find out? Comment, subscribe, share!


The Pet Peeve Chronicles: Misuse of words in common expressions April 20, 2011

As you may or may not already know, this Miss Messie Jessie is a word hound. I love me some good verbiage.

One thing that really frosts my cookies is when people use one word to express a point when they really should have used another word entirely.

It happens frequently enough that I dare say it’s become cliché.

This annoys me so much that I actually correct total strangers on proper word usage. You may think I’m joking. I am not.

Below are a few examples that really get my goat (that, by the way, is both an idiom and a cliché). We all think we know what these phrases convey… but do we really?


“I could care less.”

What you think you’re saying: “Look, I know Joanne says she has a problem with the way I cut her hair, but month after month she keeps coming back. Her opinion means so little to me that I am completely indifferent to the whole thing.”

What you’re really saying: “Joanne’s opinion of my hair cutting skills bothers the crap out of me. My feelings are hurt and I wish I cared a lot less about this situation than I do.”

The word you should have used: “couldn’t”.


“Peruse this at your leisure.”

What you think you’re saying: “Hey, take a few minutes to glance over my novella when you get a chance”.

What you’re really saying: “When you have a load of extra time on your hands, I’d really like you to carefully scrutinize my novella in great detail.”

 The word you should have used: “browse”.


“We’ve got to flush out our goals on this project.”

What you think you’re saying: “We’ve got to elaborate on our objectives or our bosses are going to start to wonder what the heck we’ve been doing around here for the last six months.”

What’s you’re really saying: “We’ve got to get this animal or criminal out of hiding –possibly by use of water or another liquid—even though an animal or criminal has absolutely nothing to do with this project.”

The word you should have used: “flesh”.


“I was humbled by your letter of recommendation.”

What you think you’re saying: “The recommendation you wrote for me was so full of accolade and compliment that I am glowing with pride.”

What you’re really saying: “I am humiliated by your letter, and feel as though my character has been seriously degraded because of it. I am so ashamed by what you wrote that I will most likely not ask you for a recommendation ever again.”

The word you should have used: “honored”.


So there they are. Anyone got any others?


The Pet Peeve Chronicles: Messy Bed-Sleepers January 17, 2011

Filed under: All about me,Pet Peeves — Messie Jessie @ 3:50 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Welcome to the first of a series titled The Pet Peeve Chronicles. Here we will examine the little snid-bippits of life that make my skin crawl, my teeth grind, and my mind boggle.


I often find that in people can be put into one of two categories for many arenas. For example, people are either logical or emotional. They prefer sweet treats or salty snacks. Introverted or extroverted. They hang their toilet paper to the front, or to the back.

You see my point?

People can also be put into one of two categories when it comes to how they sleep in their bed. I call these people Messy Bed-Sleepers and Neat Bed-Sleepers.

Myself, I identify with the latter category. I find that when I awake, the covers upon my bed are in roughly the same condition that they were when I laid beneath them: neat, orderly, and covering the entire bed. When I arise, I simply give the blankets a gentle tug back into place, straighten a pillow that may have shifted during the night, and my bed is neatly made for the day, awaiting my return 16 hours later. A tidy bed is a happy bed.

On my best days, I can slip right out of bed without a trace that anyone had even slept there at all.

A Messy Bed-Sleeper is the antithesis of a Neat Bed-Sleeper. And in my opinion, the nemesis too.

How a Messy Bed-Sleeper sleeps, for me, is difficult to explain. Mostly because I don’t understand the process. However, from what I gather, they probably start off their night by tossing and turning. They probably kick their legs around a bunch too. The combination of kicking and tossing most likely causes the blankets to separate and pull away, and the Messy Bed-Sleeper then must grab the blankets back to retain adequate coverage. However, now that the blankets are askew, they will never return to their original form. The night is young, and the battle is already lost. The Messy Bed-Sleeper must now manage the situation by finding whatever bit of fabric they find first, and pulling it as close to them as possible. Tossing and kicking resumes, causing greater unevenness of blankets, and the cycle repeats itself several times through the night. The Messy Bed-Sleeper wakes to find their blankets mostly at the bottom of the bed –or worse, on the floor– and themselves balled up from chilliness under a single blanket. The end result is pure chaos, and well demonstrated by the photo to the left.

So why does this bother me so? Because, as a Neat Bed-Sleeper, I need to be fully and equally covered by all blankets when I sleep. I need to know that I can sprawl out in whatever position I choose during the entire 7+ hours, and I will find an equal amount of comfort and warmth. I do not like to be awoken because I am cold and having to search for blankets, when what I’d rather be doing is sleeping.

Additionally, I don’t like my feet sticking out from the bottom of the covers, especially in the winter months. I prefer to be neatly tucked under the security of my blankets. If I get too warm, I’ll just pull one off. You see, if you haphazardly thrash to achieve proper temperature without any forethought, you’re just going to end up being cold on those parts of your body again anyway– which means more thrashing later on. With all this thrashing and moving and rearranging, how can that possibly be restful?!

And you know what? I bet Messy Bed-Sleepers also people who fall into another catagory: people who don’t make their beds. And not making your bed, well… that’s just wrong. How can you not make your bed? Probably because they are messy in general. So because Messy Bed-Sleepers are just that (messy) they instead wrap themselves up in the blankets, probably shivering and wondering why it’s suddenly so cold in the room.  I bet they have higher heating bills too, because Messy Bed-Sleepers don’t realize that if your blankets just stayed in place, you could actually turn down the heat at night because the blankets will do what they are designed to do: keep you warm. Meanwhile, us Neat Bed-Sleepers are in our beds, cozy and temperature controlled, peacefully snoozing, and not dreaming about the Gas Man busting through our door, with machete in hand, to get his money. Neat Bed-Sleepers are dreaming about Unicorns.

And while we’re on the subject, have any of you, as Neat Bed-Sleepers, ever had to share your sleep sanctuary with a Messy Bed-Sleeper? It’s torturous. They steal all your blankets in the middle of the night, forcing us Neat Bed-Sleepers to try to pull some blankets back over our shivering and hapless bodies. But we can’t. And you know why? Because while you were unconscious, that Messy Bed-Sleeper you call a friend has stolen all the blankets and is now wrapped in a chrysalis, leaving you no way to unravel that mess. Instead, you lie in bed, cold and irritated because, once again, the Messy Bed-Sleeper has usurped the sleeping arrangement.

In conclusion, Messy Bed-Sleepers are uneconomical, disorderly, inconsiderate, and thieves, and that is why they annoy me.

So, tell me: are you a Messy Bed-Sleeper or a Neat Bed-Sleeper?


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