Amy Sue Love, This Is For You

27 Jul 2011 4 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Friends Tags:

So I had a garden last year.  Does that surprise you?  It surprised me.  But I like to think I have enough of Madre in me to grow stuff and not always kill everything so I tilled up a bunch of space and planted a bunch of rows of seeds.  I tried for green beans, Brussels sprouts, tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, onions, okra and jalapenos.  And dill, because I wanted to make pickles (Ha! Ha! Yeah, that was successful . . .).   

Naturally, of all the things I planted, the thing that I didn’t love was of course the thing that grew well.  I could pick 5 or 6 scraggly green beans to throw in a pot of soup, or one or two spindly-looking cucumbers of a week but those freaking jalapenos that I planted specifically for a person who was a large part of my life at the time grew like wildfire.  Unfortunately, right before the jalapenos turned into a bumper crop, that person and I parted ways and I was left with hundreds of those damn peppers as a lovely, constant reminder of a failed relationship.  Yay. 

Still, I made new friends with those jalapenos.  Jose took about 500 of them and made sauces and spices for his kitchen which indeed brought us closer together as he eventually traded me a washing machine for those peppers.  I befriended Felix who liked to make salsa with them.  I put them on the break room tables at work hoping people would take them home and out of my sight.  They were taken, not as quickly as donuts were, but taken nonetheless.  In the spicy-loving crowd, I was popular for the summer.   

I also learned to make a few things with those jalapenos for my friends to enjoy.  Just because I don’t eat them doesn’t mean that others won’t, I reasoned.  All in all, it didn’t turn out so badly to have grown about a million peppers I would never eat.  All things work for good and all that . . . .

Now, fast forward to last week.  I have a co-worker, Rosita Wang, who has recently been uber-pregnant.  It’s adorable because before she became with child she weighed about a buck o’ five and from day one, that baby had nowhere to go but out.  Rosita Wang developed the cutest shelf which I often caught her using to hold her cup when she typed or as a table for writing memos to herself on post it notes.  I thought it was great fun to say, “Rosita Wang, that outfit makes you look pregnant.” Anyway, last Friday she asked a few of us how to use the bag of jalapenos her neighbor had given her and naturally, I chimed in with my two cents.  I sent a couple of recipes and we all discussed how to best use those spicy peppers in chili.  On Saturday, Rosita Wang sent me a running commentary via text on her success with my jalapeno recipes – her husband and father-in-law were impressed with her jalapeno cooking prowess and everyone enjoyed the spy-sheee.  The chili we all brainstormed on was a hit as well.   

Until Sunday.  Rosita Wang went into labor on Sunday, two and half weeks early.  The baby, a boy, is healthy and fine as is Rosita Wang, so I don’t think the prematurity was harmful.  However, I can’t help but feel slightly responsible for the birth of that baby.  Maybe if she had laid off the spicy stuff, Baby Tater would have stayed put a couple more weeks.  Instead, Baby Tater decided to come early and honestly, the more I think about it, the more I think Rosita Wang should thank me.  I did her a huge favor, right?  I made the baby stop pressing on her bladder and just come home already.  Don’t y’all think I should get some credit here?  Yeah, me too.

So, Amy Sue Love . . . .  this here story was for you.  I’m offering something here – if you get tired of hauling your own Baby Tater around on your bladder and writing memos to yourself on your baby shelf, you give me a holler.  I’ll send you some recipes involving jalapenos and you can make them and eat them and have a baby 24 hours later.  You’re welcome!

Congratulations Rosita and Mr. Wang!  Baby Tater is beautiful!

Ode to Freddie

15 Jul 2011 3 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Friends Tags:

This isn’t really an ode seeing as how it is not in verse format.  But “Novella to Freddie” sounds stupid.  And “Random Musings about Birthdays and Cake and Freddie”, while accurate, sounds lame.

First, a bit about Freddie.  She was an unexpected surprise that came with my newest job.  I had worked loosely with Freddie on an ongoing volunteer project for about three years.  She was kind of on the fringe of it so when I changed jobs to come work at her firm, I didn’t really know what to expect of my new co-worker.  She had always seemed nice but I guess I just didn’t expect to connect with her so well and so quickly. In short, she’s awesome.  Let me tell you why. 

She’s open and warm and funny and when I have a bad day, she puts pictures like this on my desktop:

 

When I am indignant that someone changes my desktop Clive Owen picture to a desktop Hall and Oates pictures, she  changes the Hall and Oates picture to this when I go to the bathroom:

When we send emails that say “I’m in a funk” we know that “I’m in a funk” really means, “Today I hate people. Go away and know that I still luff you.  And while you are at it, keep the annoying people away from me or I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” 

When I have a birthday she makes me a red velvet cake like this:

Isn’t it pretty?  It looks so professional. 

And now about birthdays and cake.  Birthdays are special.  I have a philosophy about them built over years of celebrating.  On your birthday, you get your favorite cake.  You get the meal of your choice.  You get presents wrapped in birthday paper.  And married people get uh . . . other stuff, stuff that we don’t talk about here. 

Yesterday was Freddie’s birthday.  She’s young.  I made her a cake.  I picked a new recipe for the icing titled “The Best Icing I’ve Ever Tasted” and the instructions included the directive to “beat the hell out of it.”  Who in their right mind wouldn’t pick that one?  That is just a recipe for awesome, right?

I’m telling you now, don’t pick that one.  Sure, it tastes pretty good.  Really good in fact. But beating the hell out of it to me means standing in the kitchen with a book in one hand, mixer in the other, mixing away for 10-15 minutes until your hand gets numb.  In my world, that should be plenty.  In the real world, it isn’t. 

This is what happens when you don’t beat the hell out of it:

Happy Birthday, Freddie!  I’m so happy you make pretty cakes.  Wish I could do the same for you . . .

And randomly, I have two funnies for you. 

An email exchange between Jimmie and Quan:

Quan:  I would recommend you buy frozen peas instead of canned – much less sodium. 

Jimmie:  You are the second person this morning to suggest the frozen peas to me, which are actually my favorite.  Hilarious!

Quan:  Seamus will be much friendlier when he isn’t bloated. 

And a conversation between Jimmie and her boss:

Boss:  I need a band-aid.  You don’t want to know why.

Jimmie:  I-

Boss:  You don’t want to know why.

The End.

Stuff I Lost, Part II & An Open Letter

10 Jul 2011 4 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Friends, I'm Going Somewhere, Imparting Wisdom, Lost Stuff Tags:

Yes, I’ve lost more stuff.  I need no yelling from you.  What I do need, however, is the following: 

Pepto Bismol

Hairbrush

Comb

Dignity

Water hose

Support

Please send immediately. 

I haven’t talked about things I’ve lost in a while because I haven’t really lost anything of note.  I was lulled into a false sense of security and maturity since I’ve managed to keep hold of my possessions and personality for a few months now.  Yet I am nothing if not true to myself and so begins the story again. 

On Friday of last week, Freddie and I took off on a road trip.  Freddie has a younger sister, Sammie.  Sammie applied to and was accepted into Nanny School which is just about the coolest thing I have ever heard.  Turns out, though, that Nanny School is a long way from Nashville and Sammie, brave little soul that she is, needed a ride up north so that she could attend.  Freddie volunteered and then I volunteered and then three women wearing sparkly eyeliner and carrying teddy bears and extra pillows piled up into a vehicle and took off on the open road.  No how, no way could that ever be a recipe for disaster (or lost stuff). 

The day we left, we got very specific instructions from a co-worker on proper snack etiquette for road tripping.  First, you must stop at Sonic for jalapeno poppers.  Later, you must stop at a gas station for Ruffles.  Finally, you must stop at Wal-Greens for Twizzlers.  By the time you have consumed all that, you will have reached your destination.  She didn’t mention this next part but she should have.  By the time you reach your destination you will also have some intestinal disturbances that require immediate attention.  I’m writing that down for future reference. 

The drive up on Friday was very pleasant.  We stopped at a hotel for the night in Cincinnati.   I inadvertently flashed the nice security man with my full on matching underwear set when Freddie opened to door to receive extra pillows.  If any of you living in Ohio find my dignity, would you please send it back to me? 

Sammie and Freddie and I got up early on Saturday morning to finish our journey and in the interest of “saving time” I was fixing my hair in the reflection of the car window while they packed up the car.  I’m so nice.  Anyway, I put my hair stuff on top of the car for easy access, then buckled myself into the front seat after I was satisfied that my part was straight and my eyelashes looked okay and away we went.  With my stuff still on top of the car.  Sigh . . . I never learn. 

On Saturday night, after we had gotten Sammie all settled in to her adorable “dorm room”, Freddie and I headed for another hotel.  Due to a snafu in making hotel reservations, I almost had to sleep in the same bed as Freddie.  She’s great, really cute and nice and all that.  I’m sure Ian likes to sleep in the same bed as her lots.  But I don’t.  I prefer to snuggle with my own pillows, not my friends.  Freddie thinks I’m really cute and nice and all that but she doesn’t want to sleep with me either.  She wants to snuggle with her husband and her pillows, not her friends.  We managed to eventually secure a room suitable for two non-dating, non-related friends.  I’m writing down for future reference to always double check room reservations before 11:00 pm on the night of arrival.  I think that will be helpful. 

While I luff Freddie and enjoy her company, I was overjoyed to get home.  Until I noticed my tomato plant was on the brink of death due to dehydration.  I should know better than to ever leave my house for three days with my stuff lying around outside.  I ran around the side of the house to get my hose to perform CPR on my tomatoes and discovered my hose was missing.  So here is my first open letter on this here blog: 

Dear Shitweasel –

I understand that today’s economy is tight.  I realize that many people are struggling to make ends meet.  Sometimes we have to do things we prefer not to in order to find our way out of this mess we call “recession”.  Usually that means taking on a second job or even selling off things of value in order to pay the rent.  I myself have found that tightening the belt is helpful.  Your methods, in all honesty, leave something to be desired.

I don’t begrudge you the use of my water.  I’ve noticed you’ve been using it for a while now.  I even appreciate the new and various placements of my two water hoses every day when I come home from work. I’ve left those hoses out for you even, thinking that maybe your need is so great that you would come to harm without the water.

But now you’ve gone and pissed me off.  While you thought you were being helpful and friendly by curling up my one admittedly crappy hose into a perfect circle and placing it gently next to my water spigot, the fact that you stole my good hose with the snazzy sprayer on it has put you on my poop list. 

I’m now going to “Impart Wisdom” to you, my friend.  You reap what you sow, shitweasel!  Your stealing my hose will come back and bite you where the sun can’t get you.  I laugh now in anticipation of that!

Smooches,

Jimmie

And finally on Monday I ran a 5K and it was the worst one in my running history.  I ran with Jane who is always a blast but the race itself wasn’t great.  My time sucked and it was too late in the day and too hot.  Community support was lacking.  Water stations were only okay.  And while the offer of free beer after the race may appeal to some, the thought of it made me want to barf.  However, Jane and I looked adorable in our running gear. We were very festive and very patriotic and while we may have sweated like hogs, we sweated like stylish hogs.  Plus the race benefitted the organization Not Alone and we ran simultaneously with our service people in Afghanistan.  That in itself made it worth every drop of sweat, every cramp, every tear that would have fallen if I had had the energy or the water reserves. 

 

I really did have a very nice 4th of July weekend despite all my whining here.  Sammie, I send you well wishes for this journey.  Mostly I send them because you promised me to land a position for a single fabulously tall wealthy man whom you will give to me as the best present ever seeing as how he won’t want me to birth any children because he already has some.  I remember that. I’ve written it down.  See you soon! 

Photography by Carter Andrews at Music City Faces. 

 

This Is How Woney And I Get Into Trouble

26 Jun 2011 2 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Friends, Imparting Wisdom, Outings Tags:

Good-bye savings.  I didn’t need you anyway.

 

Good-bye waistline.  You will be missed.

 

Good-bye sensibilities.  Hello, stranger.  You are so cute!

 

Good-bye filter.  That was an awesome make out session, stranger.  Of course you can have my number.  No, of course I don’t mind that you don’t have all of your teeth and are brave enough to show those gaps to the world!  Right on!  Be yourself! 

 

Good-bye camera.  Woney didn’t need those 45 pictures she took on this trip.  Her mind is like a steel trap.  She can remember every single event with no photographic evidence whatsoever.

Disclaimers and Items of Note: 

Using new sparkly eyeliner on your eyelids and accidentally getting some on your eyelashes can be distracting and quite mesmerizing, especially when driving.  Operate vehicle carefully. 

Giving Woney a video option on her phone while Jimmie gets a pedicure can be damaging to Jimmie’s reputation.  Also, there is no evidence to be found on youtube!  Do not search!  Computers will be infected with the most horrifying viruses if those searches are attempted! 

The dropping of the camera into a fountain (which looked as if it happened in slow motion, it was so horrifying) had nothing to do with any alcohol consumption. Still, DO NOT RECOMMEND operating camera after tasty beverage consumption.

Reputations were scarred a bit when tourists from all over the world witnessed the falling of the camera from Woney’s hands.  Muffled snickering ensued. 

No fishes were harmed in the retrieval of the camera or the batteries (which somehow never made it into the water) although a bug or two might have been squished. 

It pays to be kind to the nice boys in the Engineering Department at the Opryland Hotel as you not only get your personal water-logged equipment back from the depths of the fountain but also the sunglasses dropped by an unknown stranger probably months beforehand.  Score! 

No fabulously tall men with gorgeous big arms were molested over the course of the weekend (sadly). 

No dentally challenged men with exquisitely short stature were molested either (thankfully). 

 

Stuff That Made Me Happy (Or Not) This Week

23 Jun 2011 2 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Friends, In Which I Throw Myself Under The Bus Tags:

♥ I lost a pound this week.  In the immortal words of my friend, Booty:  Suck on that, Thursday!

♥ Monday I made Dammit Todd shoot Coke out of his nose.  In front of other people. In public. 

♥ Today is Javier’s birthday.  I made him a cake.  Perhaps I was feeling festive in honor of his birthday.  Or perhaps I was just sleepy because I stayed up too late last night watching the musical production of The Color Purple with Jane.  Either way, I packed my gym bag at 11:00 last night and in doing so, gave myself the nicest of all surprises.  I am always diligent in packing underclothes because I have a friend who often forgets her bra when packing her gym bag.  (I won’t name any names but her initials are Lynnette).  I would die if I forgot my bra and would most likely get fired if I showed up at work without it.  In my hyper-attention for underwear packing, I lost awareness when it came to shoe packing.  Imagine my surprise when I was at the gym this morning, got dressed in my professional attire and then found my shoes for the day.  My formal, only-wear-out-with-party-dresses shoes.  At least I’m sparkly.  Happy Birthday, Javier.  I didn’t intend to have Happy Feet on your birthday but since I do, you’re welcome.

♥ Woney is flying in tomorrow to hang out with me for the weekend.  So happy! 

♥ I was discussing death with my boss today.  I have no idea why. 

   I asked, “You’ll come to my funeral when I die, right?

   He responded, “Yes.  I will pour a six-pack of beer on your grave.”

   Of course I said, “I don’t want beer.  I want pink sparkly champagne.”

   And of course he said, “ Okay, I’ll pour pink sparkly champagne on your grave.  I’ll strain it through my kidneys first.”

 

I’m A Loser, Baby!

21 Jun 2011 8 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Friends, Health, In Which I Throw Myself Under The Bus Tags:

You want to know how I’m a loser?  Oh, in so many ways!  And one of them better be good!

I have a new friend to introduce to you.  His name is Miguel.  He’s been around forever but I’ve never had the opportunity to write much about him.  Now I do. 

On Friday afternoon I received a phone call from Miguel.  We went through the pleasantries and then Miguel asked, “What do you have going on this weekend?”

“Not much.  How about you,” I replied. 

“Well, tomorrow I’m going to meet you on the Greenway at 10:00 to walk, have lunch with you in Green Hills (Chipotle!) and then we are going to walk around the mall.”

“Oh.  I had no idea.  I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” 

We met at 10:00 and because it had been raining in Nashville for a couple of hours, our walk didn’t happen.  However, Miguel got crafty and persuasive and challenged me to a series of athletic contests instead of walking on the boring old treadmill.  Apparently, I have nothing to prove, no pride, no gumption, nothing because here, my friends, is where I fail. 

LOSER:  We played a game of H-O-R-S-E.  I had H-O-R-S-E and Miguel had H-O-R-S.  I was proud of that seeing as how I throw like a girl and have never played basketball in my life.  I was the manager of the boy’s basketball team in college but I pretty much only did that for two reasons:  Chris O’Bryan and to get paid.  I got over Chris O’Bryan before too long seeing as how he was taken but the getting paid part was quite handy for a couple of years.   Anyway, what I learned from that position was more how to get sweat out of uniforms and how to fill water bottles and not any basketball tricks.  Clearly.    

LOSER:  Miguel beat me by about a minute on the one-mile elliptical race we had.  I really should have won that one seeing as how I OWN that machine at least one day a week.  I do lunges.  I run.  I lift weights.  That machine should have been my bitch.  But it wasn’t. 

LOSER:  Miguel and I challenged each other to a push-up contest next.  He did the real ones and I did the Jimmie ones.  I could have kept going but he gave out after a few which I was pretty gloaty about.  WINNER!  Then we thought it would be interesting to see how many real ones I could do.  LOSER.  Not even one . . .  

LOSER:  Miguel opted for one more game of H-O-R-S-E.  Naturally I got H-O-R-S-E and he was just a H-O.  I think he was pretty proud of that, for more than one reason. 

LOSER:  At least I had better be.  Before that entire American Gladiator-type workout with Miguel, I ran almost five miles on the Greenway.  I’m still training for the ½ marathon (and just realized that almost none of you have nagged me even a little) so I needed to get that time in.  Besides, I knew that Miguel wouldn’t run with me, mostly because he said “Aw, hell naw!” when I asked him.  This was before the monsoon.  The weather was perfect for a run – very cloudy and overcast.  I mean, I still sweated like a hog but it was nice.  About halfway through my run, when I was past the point of turning around to go back, the bottom dropped out and I got soaked.   

I’ll call myself a LOSER on that whole running event, not because I got soaked but because all of that stuff had better show up (or not, depending on how you look at it) on the scale.  That is the kind of LOSER that counts. 

And finally . . . . Eh, I can’t tell on this one:  LOSER most likely.  After all of our calisthenics and lunch and shopping, I thought I would sit out the thunderstorms (monsoons) in the café where I go to write.  I found my favorite spot and got all settled in, but not before a seemingly nice, kind of runty man sitting near me gave me a big grin and said, “Hey.” 

I responded with “Hello.”  I told you, I don’t meet strangers.  Maybe I should.

“I’ve seen you in here.  I’m Chuck.  What’s your name?” 

“Jimmie.”

“Jimmie, are you single?” This right here?  This is a lesson I should learn!  This is where I speak before I think!  This is where, when you are out with me in public, you give me a kick in the shin. 

“Yep.”  Heaven, help me.  I have such a big mouth. 

“I think you are cute.  Would you like to go out sometime?” 

“Um, well, I don’t really know you plus I have a height thing.” I was completely floundering and this was the best I could come up with?

“I’m about 5’8”. I love tall women.  I love it when they wear heels and all that.” 

And here I have to explain that while you as a man may have no issue dating a taller woman, I as a woman do.  “Ooh, sorry, I’m completely flattered, really but I just cannot date someone shorter than me.  I really have a thing about it.” 

“Oh, okay.”   

I don’t think I destroyed him too badly because he got up to come shake my hand.  Then he looked down at my feet and said, “You have cute toes.”

“Thanks?” 

“Well, are you sure you won’t go out with me?”

“You know, this is very nice, very sweet.  But I just can’t.  I’m sorry.” 

“Okay, well, you are really hot.  I’ll see you around.”

Okay, so see?  I’m not really sure how this one fits.  I am completely flattered and complimented and that is always nice.  However, I suspect he’s one of those guys who plays the numbers game. Ask 100 women out and compliment their toes (?) and surely one of them will say yes.  But because I’m trying out this self-confidence thing, I’m going to say WINNER.  Right?  Who’s with me on this one?

 

A Quickie

16 Jun 2011 Leave a comment

by Love, Jimmie in Friends, Pets

Last night Murphy thought it would be a great idea to try a new drinking fountain.  Despite getting fresh water every day, he’s usually partial to drinking from the toilet and has been known to swig a drink from my glass, the kitchen sink and my house plants, most of which he has eaten.    

I felt like a bath was a great idea last night, although I’m not sure why.  My attention span for baths is about eight minutes.  In that eight minutes, though, Murphy wandered in and out of the bathroom, eyed the water, inspected the tub, sat on the toilet and watched the water, and finally went in for a drink.  The water was so hot that when he took a swallow he levitated right off the tub and out of the bathroom, meowing the whole way, all kinds of pissed off.  The funniest part?  He came back a second time about a minute later and did the same thing all over again.   

Murphy is such an odd little creature.  I love him but I wonder about his little brain sometimes. 

☼ ☼ ☼

Yesterday, the following email exchange happened between a co-worker and my boss – I was copied on all of it: 

Nice Co-Worker:  Jimmie – Thank you so much for helping get my site visit pictures together yesterday so I could send out the site visit report.  I can’t believe you were able to finish up as quickly as you did; your work made it possible to get the entire report out by the end of the day.

Boss:  Holy moly . . . I may puke. 

Isn’t he the nicest guy ever?

☼ ☼ ☼

I updated the below post with the picture of our pretty co-worker.  His name is Javier.   You’re welcome!    

 

Y’all, I Thought I’d Never Get This One Posted!

14 Jun 2011 Leave a comment

by Love, Jimmie in Family, Friends, Outings Tags:

“Happy Birthday” serenade from our Chairman of the Board as Donald Duck

+

“Happy Birthday” serenade from Martie as Edith Bunker 

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“Happy Birthday” serenade from the teenage Pizza Delivery Guy as the teenage Pizza Delivery Guy, just because I asked

+

“You Say it’s Your Birthday” serenade from Coach as The Beatles

=

 

 

♥ ♥ ♥

(before birthday party and because pedicures tickle)

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 (at birthday party, because we are all 12-year old boys)

+

 

(and again, 12-year old boys . . . )

=

 Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaa!

 

 ♥ ♥ ♥

(Wolverine-fascination)

 +

New co-worker who is just so dang pretty, especially because he cut in some Wolverine-esque sideburns just for me, for my birthday, because of Wolverine-fascination

(I will include the picture I took of him in an update if he allows me too, but he’s out of town and I never include that stuff without asking permission first.  UPDATE: Got it!)

(and there’s a small story about him below)

=

Happiest girl in the world

(probably because of hormone overload)

 

♥ ♥ ♥

 

+

 

+

 

 

=

 

(Ugh. But, Yum!) 

Yes, all of those cakes were made for me.  Don’t forget I had pineapple cupcakes too. 

Yes, I went to the gym yesterday morning.  At 5:00.  Yes, I did Body Pump which included something called Frogs which made me want to DIE.  Yes, I did Spin after that for 45 minutes.  Yes, we did climbs and sprints which made me want to DIE.  Yes, my butt hurts.  Also, yes, I ran three miles today (on the treadmill, which I hate).  And yes, thank you, I do feel amazing. And also, yes thanks, I know that my clothes are almost too tight because all of that birthday cake and wine and celebration.  

Thank you for noticing.   It was worth every bit of it. 

Yes, I did take all of that cake to work.  I know one of them looks a bit off but it fell over on the drive to work.  It still tasted great.  I sent out an email letting co-workers know that I had three kinds of cake on my desk and to please come help themselves. 

It sounded like a herd of water buffalo had invaded the office what with all of the thundering down the hall.  I’m willing to bet I really was everyone’s favorite yesterday.  Except for this guy . . . the pretty co-worker sent this in reply to my email:   Soooo dirty. You know that I am out of town. Now I just have to sit here and wonder how tasty your cakes are and I picture each delicious slice disappearing like the count down to Armageddon, I am now left with the feeling of hopelessness. Thank you, I’ll remember that.  I have a feeling that like Quan, he belongs to us.  We should take him to the Mongolian BBQ place to find out for sure.

Cake = gone. 

Which means:

Clothes = still fit (but barely).

Whew. 

  

Aging: A Timeline

09 Jun 2011 Leave a comment

by Love, Jimmie in Family, Friends, In Which I Throw Myself Under The Bus Tags:

Birth:  I was a girl.  My parents were thrilled.  Because they were big fans of horse stuff, my birth announcement read:  “It’s a Filly!” and all of my vitals were listed in horse speak. 

Age 20 months:  Martie was born and the entire scale of my world changed.  I loved that baby like you could not believe.  I was now Big Sister.  She was now Little Sister.  And the friendship began. 

Age 5:  Madre began explaining to Martie and me about the birds and the bees.  She did this with diagrams.  We were grossed out.

Age 8:  Madre had explained about the birds and the bees so much that it was old news.  Still grossed out.

Age 10:  Madre got remarried and I got two brothers.  Ew.

Age 13:  The Squirt was born and the entire scale of my world changed, again.  I loved that baby like you could not believe.

Age 15:  I got my first car, a 1969 Karmann Ghia convertible.  It had no radio, a top that had been slashed, a dashboard that was crumbling, and the original paint job which had faded from red to an odd pink color.  I loved that car.

Age 16:  My first kiss.  I was pounced upon by a boy that I had a crush on FOREVER.  And it was . . . . kind of gross.  I remember thinking to myself, “I waited all that time for this?”  As teenagers, Phranke and I dissected the entire event to pieces and I still think it was kind of gross. 

Age 16, also:  I failed my driving test.  The driving part.  Ridiculing ensued.

Age 17:  I passed my driving test.  With flying colors.

Age 17, also:  Martie and I had our most memorable fight, ever.  We were arguing in front of our friends when I thought it would be a grand idea to spit my gum in her face.  In retaliation, she grabbed my purse, stuck it under the tire of her VW Bug and ran over it a couple of times, thus solidifying our best friend status.  We have no idea what we were fighting about. 

Age 18:  I headed off to college. 

Age 19:  I went to Europe.  I fell in love with Michelangelo’s David. 

Age 20:  My 20th birthday happened in Chamonix.  I cried because I was no longer a teenager.  I also made out with an Italian guy named Luigi.  It was not gross.    

Age 21:  I graduated from college.  I said good-bye to some of the best friends I have ever known.  We promised to stay in touch.  We have.

Age 22:  I got a tattoo.

Age 22 and a half:  I regretted that tattoo.

Age 23:  I moved to Alabama.  Why?! Why!

Age 24:  I became a Christian. (Maybe that was why . . . .)

Age 27:  I got married.

Age 29:  I bawled my eyes out because I was “old”.  In the midst of my bawling, I hit the Dillard’s counter wailing about my “wrinkles” and “decrepit skin”.  They saw me coming a mile away and took me for every cent I had.  A few hundred dollars later I owned a large chunk of their skincare collection which did nothing to erase my “wrinkles” and “decrepit skin”. 

Age 30:  Pooh was born.  I loved that baby like you could not believe. 

Age 33:  I got divorced.  

Age 34:  Tigger was born.  I loved that baby like you could not believe.

Age 34, also:  I moved to Nashville. 

Age 37:  I had my only hangover ever.  It was Not Pretty. 

Age 37, also:  I broke my first bone.  It was my pinkie toe and it made me curse copious amounts. 

Age 38:  I fretted a lot because my eyes were “old”.   Martie gave me some eye cream and an explanation that it smelled like “rotten asshole.”  I felt certain that something that smelled like “rotten asshole” would definitely work because everyone knows that beauty treatments are not always pleasant.  I used it faithfully and every time the hot air from my hair dryer would hit my face, the heated smell of “rotten asshole” almost made me varmint. My eyes still look exactly the same. 

Age 39:  Gosh, I don’t know yet.  I plan on spending lots of years here, at 39.  So far, one day into it, it’s been amazing. 

I have received a ton of phone calls and emails and text messages from assorted friends and family members.  I got pineapple cupcakes.  And some cards.  And a really sweet magnet that says:  Better Buy Me Another Drink.  You’re Still Ugly.   

Phranke sent me this message:  Happy Birthday.  Welcome to 39.  It’s a very good year.

And Quan sent me this message:  HAPPY BIRTHDAY JIMMIE!  I got you something but let’s be honest….it will never make it to you.  I’m about to tear into it now.   (PS – it did have a malt ball on top but I already ate it.)

Finally, tonight Billie and I are watching this:

Meow!

Birthdays are wonderful.  I love them.  Thank you to all of the best friends I’ve met along the way (I’m talking to you Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee and Alabama!).  I luff you all.  And thank you to all of the best family I’ve been lucky enough to get.  I luff you all, too.  Special thanks to Madre for enduring several hours of labor and yelling and swearing and cursing to get me here.  I know I’m your favorite. You don’t have to tell Martie.  ♥

Oh, while I’m at it, being all older and wiser and stuff, I should “Impart Wisdom” to you again.  When using power tools, I’ve learned it’s best to wear closed-toed shoes.  This is what happens when you drop an electric hand sander that is currently in the “on” position on your naked toe.  Ow.  Time for a pedicure! 

 

Today I’m Boring. And a Tease.

22 May 2011 4 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Friends, Outings

Meh.  This last week has been uneventful in many ways and just chock full of stuff in others.  So this post will be a little all over the place.  For those of you who speak to me on a daily basis, this is nothing new.  I’m amazed when I can pull something together and stay on topic and make a valid point by the end.  Sometimes it requires a Herculean amount of effort.  Sometimes it just flows. Today it will be one of those splice-together thought processes that almost no one will be able to follow, even me.  Maybe look at it as small samples, like tiny little desserts on a tray that you can have a bite of when the mood hits. 

Hey guys? The Rapture didn’t happen.  I didn’t think it would which makes me even happier that Jane and I didn’t go to Dairy Queen on Friday night and have lots of stuff smothered in hot fudge sauce.  For the record, that is exactly what I would do if I knew it was coming.  Alas, we will never know ahead of time, so I suppose I should keep myself out of Dairy Queen and the hot fudge sauce.  I can grow hips without that kind of help. Lorne (Remember her?  The one who named this here blog? She’s Ty over at her place.) had some things to say about Mr. Harold Camping.  Hee!  Go read it, here.  Isn’t that great?

While we are on the subject of stuff that didn’t happen, I should mention that I went to Roller Derby last night.  It was fun.  I can’t really enthuse a lot about it, though; I’m not sure it is something I will want to do again.  While the skating was good, it was a little too circular for my taste.  Before you kindly inform me that circular skating is exactly the point and make fun of me a whole lot behind my back, please understand that my only frame of reference for Roller Derby is Drew Barrymore’s movie in which there was lots of cursing and aggression and girlie dramatics of every sort.  Also, it should be noted that friends of mine who have raved about Roller Derby also raved about the tasty beverages one can purchase at the auditorium.  A ha!  While their descriptions of Roller Derby made me yearn to go, I think now that tasty beverages had more to do with the experience than the actual skating.  Duly noted.  Also, there didn’t seem to be any kind of fighting or much aggression.  There wasn’t really any profanity at all except for that one time I almost fell down the stairs.  But that was more of a gasp of surprise than a true expletive so it barely counts.  However, the company was great because Freddie and Ian came along with some friends of theirs. Rickkster was in attendance as well.  I was hopeful that he would drink a lot and tell us secrets but that didn’t happen either. How disappointing.

You know what else didn’t happen?  Quan didn’t come to work after Tuesday.  We only got to borrow him for a few weeks from one of our other offices.  He was replacing a fellow co-worker who had been out after some sort of surgery.  I told you from the beginning that we all just liked him so much so it’s a pretty big blow to be without him now.  It’s possible that I got a little teary-eyed when I looked down the hall on Wednesday and didn’t see him sitting at his desk. 

Also what didn’t happen?  Co-worker Grumpy (new character, totally irrelevant) didn’t come to work on Friday.  He left our company to move to Montana with his new girlfriend.  We fought like brother and sister, a lot.  I accused him of not even liking me and questioned him on why we even bothered to have a good-bye drinking party for him when he clearly didn’t want to be there.  That was Tuesday.  It didn’t get better on Wednesday or Thursday and when I tried to give him a hug good-bye on Thursday, he threw me off like a bratty little kid.  So I left him alone and had nothing to do with him for the rest of the day.  Later, right before he left, he walked up behind me and gave me the tightest hug and said, “Bye, Fluffy” and then walked away very quickly, almost running. I bawled my eyes out for about an hour.  We are so mature, the two of us.

Another thing that didn’t happen?  I didn’t get fired, although I totally should have.  I had the following email conversation with my boss on Friday, after getting copies of our pay stubs and expense checks. 

Jimmie:       Hello, Hottie

Boss:             Are you drinking?

Jimmie:       No, I just got your pay stub and expenses check

Boss:             Ah. 

It pays to work for a man like him.  Anyone else would have at the very least given me a “talking to”.  Hee.

Something that did happen that I can’t tell you about?  Friday night Phranke came over and had a look at my new room. She’s a much better photographer than me, and she also helped me put my bed together with the new stuff.  See? 

 

Yes, I know I have two very orange cats, one of which sheds at least a full cat in fur every day.  So what?  White and orange go well together and I can purchase all of the lint rollers I want. 

Anyway, she shared some stories with me that made me laugh until my abs hurt but those are her stories to share, not mine.  I’m such a tease.  You’re welcome.

A final thing that didn’t happen?  I didn’t run the full six miles I was scheduled for on Saturday.  I ran/walked them but didn’t get to run them all.  Ugh.  Sometimes this running thing blows.  Still, so that I don’t discourage others of you trying to do this, there are times you just have to remind yourself that it won’t always be so difficult, and that the more you practice, the easier it gets. Also remind yourself that once you have finished your running or water aerobics or whatever exercise you choose, you will feel so much better, no matter how disgusting you get while doing it.  The sacrifice is worth it even if you have a cry a little during it.  Plus! I saw a HUGE black and yellow snake.  Call me weird, but it was kind of cool.  I could have reached out and touched him, he was so close. 

Erm, okay.  Yeah, that’s it for today.  You expected something more?  I just told you I was a tease and that I was boring.  You’re welcome.

  

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