Sunday, May 17, 2009

My life as simba

I am a Disney FANATIC!! I was born into the obsession, my family has fed me Disney movies and Mickey popsicles my whole life. I just got accepted into the Disney internship program in Orlando and I'm super jazzed. As of August I will be leaving, alone, AGAIN. Don't get me wrong, I'm stoked but more and more I realize what Rafiki was talking about when he sang 'the circle of life'. This is my life's circle, start something new, get used to it, struggle to get comfortable, love it then leave it. It could be a job, an apartment, a city, a church, a relationship, whatever. I'm at the leaving part right now. You'd think I'd be an expert at it since I've had to do it so many times. I try thinking about all the amazing times ahead and and the crazy new experiences but every time I get settled, I get the notion that this is as good as it gets. Now, I am someone who thrives on change. In the heat of a moment I will drop almost anything in order to have a new experience, never remembering the repercussions from the last. Whats amazing are the friendships and experiences I am blessed with in each move, leaving those are no fun. Nevertheless, I'm packing again. I've decided that the only thing I need in this crazy Imovesomewherenewevery6months mode is a constant. Someone once told me "the only thing that is consistent is inconsistency" and I couldn't agree more. But I can't help wishing I had a Penny. For those that watch the tv phenomenon Lost, you know what I mean. Desmond, Penny's Irish lover, is time travelling. The only thing that can get him back to where he's supposed to be is Penny. She has been constant through his life. I then realized, I DO! Sure, I'm a cheeseball, but Gods my constant. He's been there through all of my moves, whether I wanted Him or not. And He will be there in my next twelve moves at least. Sure he's not a short, hairy Irishman, and I'm not a time traveller, but at least I've got a constant.

Friday, May 15, 2009

My life as an intuitive tutee

Nine out of ten girls have denied a kiss at least once in their lives. Sure, I made up that statistic but its bound to be true. I went through a phase where I was determined not to deny a kiss. I felt bad, if a guy was going to go out on a limb, put aside his pride in order to kiss me, why shouldn't I let him win? Well, this theory turned out to be a bit of a dud. Turns out, there are many men who aren't really forsaking their pride as much as they are just looking for some sweet blond action.
If you've ever seen the overdramatic teen sensation series the O.C, you'll see that this story could be an episode. After I had broke up with my boyfriend of a year and a half, I almost immediately made friends with this other gentleman. We had hung out a few times and hit it off quite swimmingly. One night, I had asked my ex-boyfriend to come over and help with my math homework. Well as he was helping/ doing my homework my phone starting ringing. It was Jay, the guy I'd been talking to. I ignored his phone calls and went back to my math problems. My phone kept ringing and my ex, was now wondering what was going on. So I ran into my bedroom to turn my phone off. Just then I heard a tapping at my window. I looked out and there was Jay. Meanwhile my newly exed boyfriend was doing my math homework, one room over. I picked up my phone ran into the bathroom and said, "I'm with my tutor, I'll call you later". I had just dodged a BIG bullet. My ex asked who it was and I shrugged it off. Still not sure who my feelings belonged to, I said goodnight the ex. We talked by the car like we always used to, and he kissed me goodnight. I went back inside my room, relieved. Only moments later, I heard more rocks hitting my window. Jay was outside. I flipped him the bird and ran downstairs. We met at the park across from my place. As we chatted on the playground bridge, he went for a hug. He did the hug and look at me maneuver, but I didn't really think he would try anything fresh. Well, we were talking in this hug and he went in for a kiss. Almost instinctively I turned my head. I didn't even plan it but I'd just instinctively dodged a moment. I was surprised by my own actions and began to laugh. Jay was staring at me in disbelief. I looked him in the eye and apologized. He then went in for another kiss and again without thinking, redirected to the cheek. At this point I was laughing hysterically, hug still in tact, I was both pointing and laughing in his face. Bewildered, Jay just stared at me. After a couple of minutes I apologized again and he walked off muttering something about how that'd never happened to him before. I wanted to say me neither but... I was still laughing. I can't really tell you why. Next week on the O.C, Jodi figures out what she wants.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

My life as an awkward airfare

There is something fantastic about airports. For some reason there is always an air of romance. Every time I walk through the terminal of an an airport, whether coming or going, there is always a man with a big bouquet of flowers, a woman itching to see the man she loves, kids running around waiting for daddy. No fail, every time I fly I think of two things. a) I hope we crash on some remote Island and have to fight the others and b) I hope when I get off the plane there's a man waiting, ready to wrap me in his arms, twirl me around and give me an extremely inappropriate public display of affection. Now, I hear your supposed to have a boyfriend for said action but i'm not fussy.
Knowing my love for the airport scene, an ex of mine planned to pick me up with the whole bit but unfortunately, my mom told him the wrong terminal. There was one day though, by which the airport was not the epitome of romance and love. It was a "hell" of a hot day in Virginia. I had just finished summer school and couldn't wait to get back to Phoenix. Just before getting into my airport sweats (I always freeze on airplanes), I jumped in a pool and still wet got into the car. A close buddy of mine offered to drive me two hours to the Richmond Airport. We had quite a lovely chat the whole way. We stumbled on the topic of dating and I explained my views, which at the time was 'never will I ever'. We continued our journey and finally made our arrival to Richmond. I lugged my two large suitcases, duffel, purse and longboard to check in. Come to find out, I was two pounds over. At this point I'm already dying of a heat stroke, you could cut the humidity with a spoon, and I was tired and aggravated from not sleeping at all the night before. Not only did I have to pack for the summer but I had to pack up my entire house because I was moving out that day. We finally moved around enough stuff and I was off to my gate. I gave my friend an appreciative hug and headed to security. It was Friday evening and the security line was filled with overworked businessmen. Halfway through the line, I'm sweaty, tired, grumpy and already sick of dragging fifty pounds of luggage around. All of a sudden I hear "Jodi!". I turn around just as the security line is moving again. I adjust my belongings and reply "yes". My gentleman friend had decided that this was the time to confess his feelings. Now? i thought to myself, just after I explained my disdain for dating. In a full airport, while I'm trying to move my shit from a to b. Clearly sweaty, tired and grumpy and now nauseated and embarrassed, 200 businessmen are staring at me, not only waiting for me to move my fifty pounds of luggage but kinda waiting for my response. I again move my stuff through the line and say. "Thanks....(pause) hey I think I left my phone in your car", this last part by the way was not true. I now feel awful. This guy drove two hours for nothing and will now have a two hour ride home to think about it. Flabbergasted, our gentleman friend looks at me and says "I'll go look, if I find it I'll call your mom". I say bye and thank him again. I was just about to faint from what I suppose was a combo of being tired, sweaty, a case of nausea and now shock. The business man behind me mutters "tough break" and I realize that I've made the hugest mistake of my life. I jump the rope and run through gate B. False. Still feeling awful, I call him, tell him I'm really sorry for not responding appropriately. I let him know that I'm still not into dating and that his friendship means the world. To my surprise, he's still my friend! Although it wasn't quite a movie moment, it came pretty close. Kudos to you airport man!

Friday, May 8, 2009

His life as the little lady's tramp

My family is disfunctional but they come by it honestly. Its gotta be in the genes somewhere. The stories I COULD tell are mostly disturbing. We've all inherited a very sick sense of humor. When someone falls, we DeJongs will be the first to fall down laughing, and we aren't laughing with you. I've had the pleasure of living two summers with my Aunt, uncle and their three kids. All three are adorable little munchkins, but the stories they come home with are ridiculous. My cousin Tayah, who looks almost identical to my 6 year old picture, has quite a complex already. She's been told that she knows everything. She refuses to believe that a brown cow is actually a cow but rather a horse. Being that we are dutch, she believes that all girls should have long blond hair, if they are otherwise, they are ugly. Well, after a visit back to Canada her mom told me a story that proves she is a DeJong. At school all her buddies were putting rocks in their pockets (no idea why), but the teacher told them all to dump them out. When Tayah went to grab her jacket in the classroom at the end of the day, tons of rocks fell out. Instead of responding like a normal 6 year old, she simply said "who put those in there?" Last summer, my younger brother was a manny for the three kids. They spent days swimming and playing outside. As the story is told, one day my large brother was jumping with all three kids on the trampoline and landed on Tayahs leg. Not only sending her flying but breaking her leg with his land. Most people would find this sad, maybe even shed a tear. My family, laughed and to this day make fun of him for breaking a leg, not his own. If you had the chance to ask Tayah what happened to her leg she'd say "Josh did it".