Janina King RSS

Photobucket
Hi, I am Janina King, and I like to make things happen, or sit around while others make things happen.

I sometimes post pictures of animals to describe how I feel, which has proven to be a very accurate and mature form of communication.

Feel free to send me love or indifference at janinapking@gmail.com

Enjoy.

Archive

Jul
14th
Wed
permalink

Can it be true? Am I really here in Tumblrland again?

I am back! 

I now have a man and two cats and I bake a lot, so this changes everything. 

I still take myself too seriously, so be prepared for many dramatic posts about things like planning a wedding and food and music and surviving midtown while wearing a suit (which makes me look like a football player with a great hairstyle).

Welcome me with open internet arms, internet!

Comments (View)
Jul
31st
Thu
permalink

Sweet Cheesus!

So first, this lady finds her Lord and Savior in a Cheeto:

cheesus

And now this cat has the shrouded Jesus on its forehead:

religious pussy

I see no Jesus on that cat’s face. It just looks perturbed, like cats do.

Jesus Cat

Comments (View)
permalink

My Co-Workers Know Me Well

  • Me (coming in all grumpy like I do sometimes): Guys, I have to warn you, I'm not going to be the most pleasant person today. It's not even 8:30 am, and I AM HAVING A BAD DAY.
  • Co-Worker (Exchanging look with other associate and reaches into a drawer, pulling out a bag of m&ms): We were prepared this time.
Comments (View)
permalink
Comments (View)
permalink

I really hope most of you have seen this… If not, be prepared to be outraged.

Comments (View)
permalink

Biker’s Code

Yes, people, there is a code to live by when you bike places, and I am still learning what that code is.  

It has something to do with “not being afraid of cabs”, and “not letting stupid pedestrians get in my way”.

I’m getting the hang of it, one pedestrian at a time…

I’m just kidding.  Every time I see a pedestrian or a cab, I always swerve out of the way, usually careening into a trash can or restaurant because I forget I have brakes now.

Also, because I made the wonderful B’s Bikes dudes adjust my handlebars so I have to raise my arms to get to them, I realized I look like the wicked witch peddling furiously whenever I go over a bridge.  

Comments (View)
Jul
30th
Wed
permalink

Biking for Dummies

I love biking around the neighborhood - I used to ride my bike in my hood all the time when I was a kid until I became Too Cool for such things.  Thank Go everything comes back full circle.  When I was 12, my parents bought me the bike I’d always wanted: A Huffy Cruiser in Electric Blue, with white-walled tires and little protective coverings over the tops of the tires.


Huffy!


I was in heaven.  I’d ride around on that all day, wishing I lived in a town where I could ride to the store and get a milkshake from the soda jerk and spin around on my seat at the counter and look out at my pretty bike.  Instead, I lived in  small town that was made up of suburbs and Taco Bells and such.  We did have a Dairy Queen that the teens would cruise around on a Friday night (ending up parking at the car wash - the place to be seen), but all of the chain restaurants were way too far away and on dangerous roads for me to go sit there and look at my bike.  So I had to be happy with my suburban neighborhood, being careful of the pair of Dobermans that sometimes got out of their yard, and the mean boys who would yell things at me and sometimes chase me when I rode by.

Unfortunately, these rides only lasted about six months until I was Too Cool for a bike and too busy chasing those mean boys around in the neighborhood, riding around in cars instead of bikes and making my debut as the youngest addition to the car wash cruisers.  

So when I moved here to city life, I started to see the benefits of having a bike again.  Since that beautiful blue Huffy had only been used very little in its life (and since I hadn’t grown all that much taller), my parents mailed it to me for my 25th birthday so I could ride around Brooklyn.  It was wonderful, but my Huffy weighed 45 pounds, and because I’d just moved here, this city was wayyy too scary for my taste, so the poor thing ended up being ridden just around my block, never to any Soda Jerks, though it did make its way o a few jerks’ apartments on occasion.  Eventually, after a few moves, I lost the key to my lock, and there my Huffy sat in the winter at the bottom of the stairs, begging to be ridden.  Pretty soon, someone obliged it by taking it off my hands without my knowledge.  I am sure that Huffy is livin it up somewhere, hopefully by a 12 year old that knows how to appreciate it.

So recently, I decided to go buy a grown ass woman’s bike.  I went to B’s Bikes on Eckford and Driggs in my neighborhood (the Point of Green), and asked these fine young gentlemen what their opinions were.  They were short n’ sweet: “Pick one and ride it around some, see if you like it.”  So I did just that, and ended up with this fine beauty:

fuji!!

Gears!  It has gears!  Seven of them, actually.  And brakes, real working brakes!  And a bell!

I love my new bicycle.

Comments (View)
permalink
This is what you call an International Party.

This is what you call an International Party.

Comments (View)
permalink

Breakdown (How it Will Go from Here)

So, Kevin, Shana, Mom, two co-workers, AKA faithful readers of my blog,

As you all know, my company decided that blogging and playing scrabulous (er, now actual scrabble) on facebook online were possible ways for me to communicate insider trading secrets to other clueless people, so I have been blocked from writing my blog at work.  

THEN, as luck would have it, I have been mostly offline at home, due to a brand new faulty wireless router from Linksys, though after returning that one for the exact same one at the sto’, I seem to be up n’ running again!

I have missed you guys imming me (but never commenting even though I enabled it, Shana and Kevin!) about my latest posts dearly - in fact I was even placing my self-worth on it, and had to go into therapy during my hiatus to deal with the withdrawal of blogging praise/insults, AKA attention to ME.

So, since I now have internet at home (at least for this one singular moment), I shall now post things to myself via the wonderful world of emailing, and then post all my amusing musings in the evenings up on this site.  This means that if I can keep this up, you will get several new postings ready to make you guffaw over your morning coffee, or if you can bear waiting that long, even chortling over your lunch or mid-afternoon snack, or tv dinner.

See you tomorrow night, interwebs!

Comments (View)
permalink
My Mother Bought Me a Nap
It was… interesting.
See, there’s this place in NYC where you can go take a nap.  As I am a seasoned professional in the art of napping, I see the beauty in this logic.  Yelo is a place in midtown where you can make an appointment and pay them for a “pod” to take a nap in.  I promised my wonderful mother I would write about my experience, so here goes.
In Georgia, working at a bank, being in two comedy improve troupes (we were funny, occasionally!), and going to school at night, I was the queen of taking naps.  I knew where all the safe parks were, and I could always count on the parking lots at school to provide the perfect shade to bust out a 20 minute snooze-fest before my classes.  In those days, I would tip back my seat in my stripped down 2000 Corolla, set my phone alarm, and snore for at least 15 minutes, coming out looking frazzled, but slightly refreshed.  I was looking forward to a place that was not a car to rest for a lil bit of my day, since my home is too far away from my job to sneak away to nap in.
It makes sense, this nap place.  I’m always going at full-speed in this town… Making dinner-then coffee-then hanging out somewhere plans right after work that prevent me from any downtime.  I will not get home until 10 or 11 on many weekdays, and the idea of stopping to nap sounds pret-ty freaking fabulous to me.
It was a Friday, after a wonderful Thursday night where I did not get much sleep, so I was good n’ ready for a nice nap.  My mother had bought me a reflexology treatment, followed by a 20 minute nap in one of Yelo’s pods.  I brought my tired body in there and prepared to fall asleep.
I waked into a futuristic storefront with muted colors and people with hushed voices at the front desk.  I gave them my info, and they sat me down in the lobby with offers for tea or water, which I had no problem with whatsoever.  They handed me a questionnaire to fill out with my preferences for aromatherapy and music.  I chose the fig scent because it smelled more delicious than the “romantic breeze” choice, which smelled a little bit like death, which I found not to be very romantic, personally.  Being a real 90’s woman at heart (with a cosmic sun tramp stamp to always remind me of the 90’s), I chose some cosmic moonbeam music to have on while getting reflexology and napping.  I asked that the music be turned off after the reflexology, since I typically don’t listen to music whilst sleeping, but this caused a great disturbance in my poor reflexologist’s face, as no one had dared requested the music be turned off during a session before! So, against my better judgement, I agreed to have the moonbeam sounds continue on during my snore time.
I went into the tiny pod and sat down on the chair that resembled a dentist chair with no scary instruments.  Yelo’s belief is that the feet must be elevated above the heart to slow the heart rate down.  I was used to the exact opposite in my car, and whenever I get the distinct pleasure to nap anytime at home, I always fall asleep on my tummy or side, but I brushed my doubts aside, since this place was made for resting.  Surely I would adjust.
The reflexologist tipped the dentist chair back until I was nice and supine, while I tried to relax in the soft purple light with the fig scent reminding me that I was hungry, and the moonbeams playing.  I tried not to expect a massage, since that’s not exactly reflexology, but still prayed that he would understand that foot massages feel better than pressure points.  He rubbed, but didn’t rub, you know? While it was pleasant, I did want to go get a real foot massage immediately after that, but didn’t have the time, since I’d taken up all my downtime at Yelo.
So, I tried to relax my hunger pangs and settle into nap mode.  The reflexologist was silent and very gentle, and I began to feel sleepier.  As quiet as he tried to be, I did hear him get up and leave after his twenty minutes were up, so I knew in the back of my mind I had twenty minutes all to myself in the now dark pod in my dentist chair.  
As the music kept playing and the figs kept filling my nose, I started to drift into my subconscious and let myself flow into sleep.  I was getting drowsier and drowsier, and THEN!  The moonbeams had a guitar solo!  It was frantic!  I woke with a start and immediately felt the urge to check my phone and get something to eat.  
But being a good test subject, I settled back down and prayed that the moonbeams would stop their urgent “soothing” song.  I was a teeny bit annoyed at the guitar solo, but was determined to rest, as my mother had paid good money for me to sleep!
But it was not to be.  After being jolted back awake by the music, all I could really think about was how I’d like to flip on my tummy and stretch all the way out, and have my girl Gillian feed me the most delicious fig spread I’ve ever encountered, Ficoco, which is a chocolate fig spread, which means a party in my mouth.
So, I was already putting my shoes back on when the lights rose into a “sunrise” and the music swelled more frantically than before, which surprised me, since I thought it was already so jarringly frantic to being with.  
All in all, it was a unique and cool experience that was different than I ever would’ve gotten were I still living in Georgia, so I’m grateful for the opportunity to go have a nap at a genuine nap-place.  I think it would be perfect for people who were not as well-versed as I am in the world of naps.  
Thanks, Mom. 
*Click on the pic to go to the Yelo site.

My Mother Bought Me a Nap

It was… interesting.

See, there’s this place in NYC where you can go take a nap.  As I am a seasoned professional in the art of napping, I see the beauty in this logic.  Yelo is a place in midtown where you can make an appointment and pay them for a “pod” to take a nap in.  I promised my wonderful mother I would write about my experience, so here goes.

In Georgia, working at a bank, being in two comedy improve troupes (we were funny, occasionally!), and going to school at night, I was the queen of taking naps.  I knew where all the safe parks were, and I could always count on the parking lots at school to provide the perfect shade to bust out a 20 minute snooze-fest before my classes.  In those days, I would tip back my seat in my stripped down 2000 Corolla, set my phone alarm, and snore for at least 15 minutes, coming out looking frazzled, but slightly refreshed.  I was looking forward to a place that was not a car to rest for a lil bit of my day, since my home is too far away from my job to sneak away to nap in.

It makes sense, this nap place.  I’m always going at full-speed in this town… Making dinner-then coffee-then hanging out somewhere plans right after work that prevent me from any downtime.  I will not get home until 10 or 11 on many weekdays, and the idea of stopping to nap sounds pret-ty freaking fabulous to me.

It was a Friday, after a wonderful Thursday night where I did not get much sleep, so I was good n’ ready for a nice nap.  My mother had bought me a reflexology treatment, followed by a 20 minute nap in one of Yelo’s pods.  I brought my tired body in there and prepared to fall asleep.

I waked into a futuristic storefront with muted colors and people with hushed voices at the front desk.  I gave them my info, and they sat me down in the lobby with offers for tea or water, which I had no problem with whatsoever.  They handed me a questionnaire to fill out with my preferences for aromatherapy and music.  I chose the fig scent because it smelled more delicious than the “romantic breeze” choice, which smelled a little bit like death, which I found not to be very romantic, personally.  Being a real 90’s woman at heart (with a cosmic sun tramp stamp to always remind me of the 90’s), I chose some cosmic moonbeam music to have on while getting reflexology and napping.  I asked that the music be turned off after the reflexology, since I typically don’t listen to music whilst sleeping, but this caused a great disturbance in my poor reflexologist’s face, as no one had dared requested the music be turned off during a session before! So, against my better judgement, I agreed to have the moonbeam sounds continue on during my snore time.

I went into the tiny pod and sat down on the chair that resembled a dentist chair with no scary instruments.  Yelo’s belief is that the feet must be elevated above the heart to slow the heart rate down.  I was used to the exact opposite in my car, and whenever I get the distinct pleasure to nap anytime at home, I always fall asleep on my tummy or side, but I brushed my doubts aside, since this place was made for resting.  Surely I would adjust.

The reflexologist tipped the dentist chair back until I was nice and supine, while I tried to relax in the soft purple light with the fig scent reminding me that I was hungry, and the moonbeams playing.  I tried not to expect a massage, since that’s not exactly reflexology, but still prayed that he would understand that foot massages feel better than pressure points.  He rubbed, but didn’t rub, you know? While it was pleasant, I did want to go get a real foot massage immediately after that, but didn’t have the time, since I’d taken up all my downtime at Yelo.

So, I tried to relax my hunger pangs and settle into nap mode.  The reflexologist was silent and very gentle, and I began to feel sleepier.  As quiet as he tried to be, I did hear him get up and leave after his twenty minutes were up, so I knew in the back of my mind I had twenty minutes all to myself in the now dark pod in my dentist chair.  

As the music kept playing and the figs kept filling my nose, I started to drift into my subconscious and let myself flow into sleep.  I was getting drowsier and drowsier, and THEN!  The moonbeams had a guitar solo!  It was frantic!  I woke with a start and immediately felt the urge to check my phone and get something to eat.  

But being a good test subject, I settled back down and prayed that the moonbeams would stop their urgent “soothing” song.  I was a teeny bit annoyed at the guitar solo, but was determined to rest, as my mother had paid good money for me to sleep!

But it was not to be.  After being jolted back awake by the music, all I could really think about was how I’d like to flip on my tummy and stretch all the way out, and have my girl Gillian feed me the most delicious fig spread I’ve ever encountered, Ficoco, which is a chocolate fig spread, which means a party in my mouth.

So, I was already putting my shoes back on when the lights rose into a “sunrise” and the music swelled more frantically than before, which surprised me, since I thought it was already so jarringly frantic to being with.  

All in all, it was a unique and cool experience that was different than I ever would’ve gotten were I still living in Georgia, so I’m grateful for the opportunity to go have a nap at a genuine nap-place.  I think it would be perfect for people who were not as well-versed as I am in the world of naps.  

Thanks, Mom. 

*Click on the pic to go to the Yelo site.

Comments (View)
Jul
29th
Tue
permalink

Aaaaaand….

I’m back!!!

Comments (View)
Jun
26th
Thu
permalink

Cloud Cult

Comments (View)
Jun
24th
Tue
permalink

Psycho Sisters

  • Janina: So you've sent absolutely insane novellas via email to your barely there guy, too? I'm not the only one?
  • Danielle: Girl, welcome to the club.
Comments (View)
Jun
20th
Fri
permalink

Dear Intern,

You make me want to die.

Comments (View)