Trapped in the Closet: Literally.

And now...a tale.



This story begins like any other story. It begins a small town on a quiet Sunday evening. The sun has already set and the warm glow from the small dwellings of the villagers lights up the streets on this dark rainy evening. This is where we find our main character, who we shall call, "Meeshee", for the sake of sparing identities.


Now on this cold raining evening, Meeshee was just getting ready for a good nights rest before a hectic and crazy Monday. She was tired after having spent the entire weekend sweeping and cleaning, and scrubbing floors like Cinderella. Although unlike Cinderella, Meeshee did have a tendency to let her messes slide by. So, the task at hand had taken her an exceptionally long time, having to unpack from various travels and scrub her clothes. But, this is not stop Meeshee, she had seen the project through from start to finish, which is where we find her now.

Ah, yes. Meeshee had just hung her last garment, and carefully laid out her attire for the following day. She then headed into her closet to change from the drab clothes of the day, into a pair of fresh pajamas. It was at that exact moment that Meeshee found herself an unsuspecting victim of the lack of tensile strength in plastic.

In the flash of an eye, Meeshee's entire wardrobe apparatus fell upon her. In a catastrophe that rivaled the Great San Francisco Earthquake of 1906, Meeshee managed to emerge the rumble unscathed. Immediately, the alarm was set off, and cries for help were quickly heard. A rescue crew was quickly on site, and eradicated the victim.

Yes, 'twas a shocking tale indeed. A poor a girl, who's good deeds were punished. And while the cost of damages is still unknown, the lesson remains clear. Don't clean your room.

Essence of Munn

Joe Munn,



How do I discribe thee.... let me count the ways.


They say a picture is word a thousand words... So, I'll do you one better.. here's a thousand and one.

Your swarthy giant leprechaun looks make me jump on one leg every time I hear a closet door slam. Your voice sings like a morning song bird, fluttering gracefully in a prairie meadow in on cool spring day every time you rejoice for your favorite man-on-man tackling sporting even, much like the seductive overtures of a baritone crooning over a gramophone to order their favorite Ranalli's carry out or Hooter's hot wings, which some might think as a reflection of easy virtue. In which case, I will do my best to reprove myself and make any aberations infrequent. Then again, all this is just a bunch of folderol. A miscellaneous collection of words, in which I am conveying in a most special parlance, making it difficult to decipher the essence of this fop. Perhaps Joe's atavistic nature will alleviate him from such troubles and instead he will give into his instiable appetite for bacchanalian revelry. Ah, with Joe many a revel I witnessed and in some, partook. For Mr. Munn has a panache for the amalgamation of a libation. His award winning methods are quite laudable. Yes, the adulations of Munn continues ad infinitum. Well... until it reaches an ad hoc. It seems that describing this flim-flam with more than one accoutrement is a bit of a challenge. Thus, leaving me with this final thought, one that will resonate throughout all of time, no-reverberate. No-make that a riff, a rocking guitar riff. I shall conclude this rudimentary prose with less than twenty percent of the promised praise and this final phrase: Joe Munn is a bad ass m.c. and Bears enthusiast.

It's Friday

Everyone's always happy it's Friday...except fish.

There is a Mouse in my House

Dear mouse in my house,

I just wanted to let you know that, while I’m extremely flattered you’ve decided to take up residency in my house, I think we need to discuss these living arrangements. First of all, you moved in without even telling me and my roommates. I understand you thought we would be mad, and not let you move in- if you had told us in advance, and this is true. I guess, however, you officially have squatter’s rights now.

I know the economy has been hard on us all and having roommates is a great way to save money- but we need to come to an understanding. If you are going to be staying with us, a few things need to change.

First of all- you need to pay us some rent, or at least something for utilities. It not fair to the other roommates. Secondly, you need to not be eating everyone’s food. We clearly label our food by our initials- please do not confuse M for mouse, instead of Michelle. You can just leave a paw print- better yet, keep your food outside.

In addition, the floor is not a restroom, please clean up after yourself, we are trying to get ready to move, and we can’t have droppings everywhere.

Lastly, I know you’ve been lonely lately, but please knock before entering- we are very stressed lately, and surprise entrances are not always welcome.

I hope that we can come to mutual understanding about this, and this does not damage our friendship.

Cordially,

Mimi

Dear Old Man Crossing the Street....

Dear Old man crossing the street,

Old man crossing the street. I’m stopping my car… not even taking another beat. I see your feet; hit the pavement like Godzilla in Tokyo. I think that I could, but I decide I won’t go.

With your sock pulled up high, your veiny legs you still can not hide. Your back hunched over like Quasimodo in Norte Dame, your walker keeps you up like life support, tennis balls at the bottom- dogs think it’s a game.

Don’t worry old man, take your time. I know what it’s like, I understand your pain. I’ll be patient as you cross the street to the one of another name.

As your orthopedics shuffle before lamely, that’s when it hits me- and your life flashes before me.

Were you young once old man? Quick and nimble, dancing like Gene Kelly? Throwing ladies high in the sky as you jittered and jived?

Or were you the shy guy who dreamed of sending man to the moon? The one who invented rockets and space food. and then got laid off at IBM when younger generations swooped in and flashed their pearly gems.

Did you have a great love, the kind people see in movies? shared your first dance and hot summers at the pool? Then marriage right after high school?

Or are you bitter and sad because no one ever loved this lad?

I bet your didn’t think your life would end up like this, so lonely and sad before death’s sweet kiss. I sigh as I hold back a few tears, what will become of my next few years?

I release the brake determined to move forward and onward, to life my life to the fullest in the name of that old man. Yes, that's what I'll do, I won't let you down.

I hear and thump and bump and I look in my rear view mirror. The man’s on the ground,.. Wow, this wasn’t his year, and I drive on as I shed one last tear.

The Unwelcome Vistor

Mondays- nobody likes them, especially me. This Monday was no different.


I had been extremely tired from a busy weekend, and when my cell phone alarm went off that Monday morning it was a bit harder to wake up. I usually let my alarm go off for an average of 30 minutes,.. until I get up. I think I hit snooze for about an hour this morning. A bit above average. I reluctantly got out of bed, quickly showered and got ready for work. Luckily my commute is fairly reasonable, it usually only takes me 15-20 minutes to get to work.

Ahhh.. work. Needless to say, it was one of those days, where everyone needed everything yesterday. So as I sat in my chair very stressed out, I was counting the minutes until I could go home and have a moments respite, and... continue working. Yes, I had to do a bit of work at home but, it is usually more relaxing when I can focus without the constant phone ringing and inbox cluttering.


Finally the quitting bell rang, and I ventured home. I usually don't partake in the consumption of wine after work- I always felt it was kinda weird to drink by myself. But today was definitely an exception to the rule. As I was having trouble removing the outer-wrapping, and that's when I saw Him. The unwelcome visitor...

I reached into our utensil drawer to retrieve a knife, and something caught my eye. At first glance I thought it was a leaf. I thought to myself, "why is there a leaf in our drawer?" So I went to brush it out and that's when the leaf was not a leaf, but a cockroach.

At the realization that I almost touched a cockroach, I immediately flipped out in my typical fashion. For those of you who know me, I'm very jumpy. So naturally I ran out the kitchen screaming bloody murder, and perched myself a top our banister, so that my body would not be in contact with the floor.


It was at this point my roommates seemed to noticed something was wrong,.. (I think the screaming gave it away.) Autumn and Stephanie both thought I was being a bit ridiculous, however, I disagree, for Hank was a very large creature. Being the brave one, Stephanie decided to try and kill Hank but she could not find him.

I was still super creeped that there was any type of bug in our house. I'm a non-bug person. I don't kill them- people kill them for me. I think that my already stressed body heightened my already unnatural fear of bugs, and I still have not had any wine.

Not wanting to leave my "safe zone"- Stephanie was nice enough to bring my wine to me. So in all my classiness, I went ahead and drank my wine straight up from the bottle, while sitting atop our banister - still feeling very shaky. (Caution: Mimi does not recommend 1- sitting on a banister, or 2- drinking alcohol while doing number 1. and 3- Hank, he will haunt your dreams) Always ask a parent or guardian before trying this at home).

While were still could not find Hank the Cockroach or any of his friends. The night was slightly rectified by getting Pizza Nova. and although they would not deliver to our apartment, Autumn and I successfully picked up our food without me locking my keys in my cars. (Yes- it happened last Dec). Thus concluding my Monday. We still have yet to find Hank- I will keep you posted.

Christmas 2007

Friends, Family, and Furred Creatures,
Greetings and Salutations! Alas, the sweet smells of holly and pine is upon us once more as we set forth in motion the holiday chain of events. After a year of being “good” and a month of searching for parking spots at the local mall, we finally reach the day in which we wake up earlier than ever. Amongst, all of the good tidings and great cheer we have begun to ponder this previous year, and reflect back on what has happened in the two-thousand and seventh year of our Lord.
Rumor has it; Chuck Norris put extra locks on his door when four local Chicagoan’s received their Black Belts. Another headliner was Brent’s big move to chi-town, as he finishes up his degree at DePaul. He didn’t get far from the homestead as he moved less then a block from Michelle. Any future shenanigans will be dually noted. Michelle put her best foot forward in the working world this December as she (finally) graduated in Interior Design. She is now working full time at Ware Malcomb Architects. Although, its not civil engineering, she’ll be working on many of same projects as her Pop’s. Sherri is showing off her latest fashions on the locals as she’s still styling at Stein Mart. Finally, last but definitely not the least, Preston has perfected the art of the “Golden Child”. As the class president and a second degree blackbelt, he’s giving a young Chuck Norris a run for his money.
Luckily for you the format of this letter has minimal space for “bragging”. (Please see separate attachment of the accomplishments of the Cats…) On that note, the Jacob household wishes you a warm Christmas season, and a stress-free holiday filled with rainbows and smiles.
Happy Christmas,
Jeff, Sherri, Michelle, Brent, and Preston