Pee-Tah: The Best Boyfriend I Never Had

I think I told you recently that Pee-tah came back to Nashville and was moving in with me for a time until he decided what he wanted to do with regards to his living situation.  All of that happened and for five glorious days, we were roomies.  During those five glorious days, Pee-tah decided that Nashville would be his permanent home for a long while and got his own apartment and now we are dating.

Here’s why none of you can be excited about that:  Pee-tah and I both have a keen interest in making out with boys.

But here’s why I am excited about that:

1.  In the five days that Pee-tah lived with me, he vacuumed my house three times.  At least I caught him three times. There might have been more vacuuming that I missed.  All I know is my carpet has never been so shiny clean before nor my clothes so fur free.

2.  Pee-tah has wireless innernet and a television at his apartment.  Because we are dating, he gave me a key to that apartment.  That means I can go over whenever I like and take advantage of his wireless innernet and television.  That also means we can have movie night at his house whenever we want.  We did that right after he moved in, before his boxes were even unpacked.  We chose Flashdance because Pee-tah had never seen it and I didn’t remember it.  I wish we had remained at status quo.  Man, that movie was B-A-D.  However, we agreed that our tastes are similar and we never have to watch it again.  Also, we never watch True Blood.

3.  I still get the whole bed to myself.

4.  I get an allowance from Pee-tah.  When I need cash, he gives it to me.  In return, I cook for him.  We recently had this conversation:

Jimmie:  “Do you have $10 I can borrow?  I have no cash and I have to pay someone back for something.”

Pee-tah:  “Sure.  Here’s $20.  Keep the extra, you might need it.  We’ll call that your allowance.”

Jimmie:  “Thanks!”

And then two days later: 

Jimmie:  “I bought you a chicken.”

Pee-tah:  “Um, thanks?”

Jimmie:  “It’s me, earning my allowance.  I’ll make chicken salad. Do you need anything ironed?”

See how good we are to each other?

5.  I never have to dress up for Pee-tah or shave my legs, despite our boyfriend/girlfriend status.  He likes me just as I am.

6.  I am a good influence on him and him on me.  For example, I taught him how to play a card game called Spite and Malice.  I warned him that playing this game would cause bad words to just fly right out of his mouth.  He did not believe me as Pee-tah NEVER says bad words, NEVER.  But after playing Spite and Malice with me, Pee-tah learned to say the F-word and also other words like damn, shit and this-card-game-sucks-donkey-balls!  In return, Pee-tah cleaned out my pantry and made it organized and since it looks so nice in there, I’m going to try to keep it that way.

7.  He’s taller than me.

8.  When he buys me practical gifts like a fire extinguisher or some safety lights, I truly get excited about it and never fling about the words “no really, it’s FINE.”  The fire extinguisher is my all-time favorite gift.  I’m not kidding.

9.  When I tell him I “have a headache”, we both know I’m telling the truth.

10.  Finally, Pee-tah always, always, always answers the phone when I call.  And I do the same for him. We communicate.

Having a gay boyfriend is the best idea ever!  I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.

How To Write A Book Proposal, By Jimmie

Step One – November 2012

Receive news that a publishing company is accepting full book proposals from women writers.  The deadline is midnight, March 15, 2013.  Get excited and yap about it to everyone you meet for three solid days.

Step Two – December 2012 thru February 2013

Push book proposal far from your mind.  You have plenty of time.

Step Three – February 28, 2013

Realize in a sudden panic at 3:00 a.m. that you only have two weeks to complete the book proposal.   Berate yourself mightily for an hour or two then phone all friends and family members (at a reasonable hour, of course) to explain why you will be unavailable to them for the next 15 days. Tell them you love them then turn off your phone.  It is also best if you shut all off social media sights like Facebook, Yahoo, Google, etc. but everyone knows you would never do that in a million years.

Step Four – March 1, 2013

Begin your research on what a full book proposal entails.  Understand with a slow, sickening realization that this is worse than any term paper you have ever written.  Understand that as much as you talk about yourself on your blog and to your friends, a book proposal is a more narcissistic and self-involved project than you have attempted to date.  Did you guys know you have to sell yourself?  I didn’t.  I do now.

Step Five – March 1 – 14, 2013

Write like mad.  Massage your fingers when they cramp from the typing.  Dream of your book.  Leave a notebook beside your bed so that when you have a revelation at 2:00 a.m. you have a place to write your thoughts.  Make arrangements to stay late after work every night so that you have two giant monitors and fantastic internet service at your disposal.  You also want no distractions. Save your proposal in no less than three locations.  Losing that work is something you don’t even want to think about. 

Step Six – March 1 – 14, 2013

Do research.  Focus on what others have done before you and how it can help you now.  Realize that everyone who has ever written a book before you is a genius and you are an idiot. Wonder how 50 Shades of Gray ever got published (Gray? Grey?  I have no idea. Didn’t read them).  Reread some of your work and laugh out loud and then continue on with the proposal because you know that most of what you have is very good and that if you never pursue this, you will never succeed at this.  Repeat this step a minimum of five times.  You must second-guess yourself and then take pride in your work alternately.  It’s how you keep your weight down during this process. 

Step Seven – March 15, 2013

Receive an early morning phone call from Martie that Poppa is gravely ill and in a helicopter on his way to Vanderbilt.  Begin to cry at the office and then work like a dog so that when he finally gets to Vanderbilt you can leave and drive 90 miles an hour to the hospital where you sit for hours in the CCU.  Rub Poppa’s head and talk nonsense, as he is, about anything you can think of, just to make him stop hurting, just to calm everyone down.  Mention that you wrote a book.  When Poppa shows the merest sign of lucidity, he will say, “You wrote a book?  What is it about?” Tell him then, and explain about the book proposal and say “Yes, sir” when he says, “Make sure you turn it in.”

When Brother Bear gets to the hospital, you hug him then leave.  You have 90 minutes to put the finishing touches on your proposal.  You thought you were going to have five hours.  You were wrong.  You italicize everything, add commas, write the query letter and send it off three minutes before the midnight deadline.  Then you go to sleep with acid in your stomach worrying about Poppa.  The next morning you check your email to see that the proposal was received.  Then you wait for two months before hearing who won the coveted prize of a publishing contract.

Monkey wrenches you might encounter:

  1. You will think that Twizzlers will aid in the writing process. They do not.  Do not be lulled into the false sense of security they give with their unique waxy strawberry flavor.
  2. You will feel that you have enough time to make healthy dinners during this process.  You do not.  Subway needs to become part of your dietary plan during this time.
  3. Never forget the ponytail holder.  Your hair will annoy the ever-loving shit out of you during this process.
  4. Do not answer the phone, even for a quick question!  This is bad!  The person on the other end of the line will have every interest in eventually ending the call and you will not.  You will drone on for as long as they let you until they finally just hang up while you are in mid-sentence.  For those of you not in the know, this is called Procrastination. 
  5. Give yourself a pat on the back for staying late every night at work to really focus on your project.  Then take it back when you find yourself alone in the office with the one person who also is working late, the person who sits right next to you, and the person who is so quiet during the day that you are surprised when everyone leaves at how she begins a running monologue for one and half hours.  She is talking to you, telling you the same story over and over again, only changing a word here and there so it sounds different. She does not take a breath between sentences.  She is relentless yet sweet so you can say nothing other than the occasional “mmm hmmm”.  Go to the bathroom and when you get back, you’ll find that she is still talking, loudly and with force, and that she didn’t even realize you were gone.  Go to Subway, get some dinner, eat it, and when you get back, she will still be nattering on as if you never left.  When she finally leaves for home and all is quiet at the office, weep a little for the lost time.
  6. That might be it.  That whole process is a bit fuzzy now as time has passed and I cried a lot. 

So that’s how it’s done, people.  A book proposal in seven easy steps.  Piece of cake.  

I got this, right? 

Men, A Gift Giving Guide

Alright, boys, I’m here to help.  I know that most of you have yet to begin your Christmas shopping.  I’m guessing Wal-Greens is your first stop. Actually, I’m guessing Wal-Greens is your only stop.  While I personally feel like you should have already scoped out the perfect gift for your girl and ordered it online from Tiffany (or Godiva), I understand that perhaps you operate best under pressure and since you have a full 30 hours left of the holiday shopping season, you feel calm and serene.  Amirite?

A few years ago when I was a married woman, I had a husband who felt like useful gifts were a fantastic idea.  I’m here to tell you that they are not.  He purchased for me one year a Dust Buster.  You know, one of those instruments to CLEAN with.  As a Christmas gift.   For ME to CLEAN with.  I did manage to smile and say thank you.  He had purchased it before Christmas and wrapped it himself, so A for effort.  But my Dust Buster broke in the first year of ownership and do you know he got me another one the next year for Christmas?  That was a pleasant experience for him and me both.

Men, I care for you.  I want what is best for you.  I hate to see you spend long, lonely, cold nights in your dog house.  Because I care for you and don’t want you to spend long, lonely, cold nights in your dog house, I have compiled a short checklist for you to help with your holiday giving this year.   

  1. Small boxes are best.  Blue ones (like Tiffany blue, for example) or gold (like Godiva gold, for example) are particularly appealing.  Also, gift card boxes are extremely welcome as are small notes inside of big boxes that read:  Merry Christmas, baby. Let’s go shopping. 
  2. If your gift plugs in and she has not specifically asked for it, take it back.  Immediately.
  3. Cookware is not a good gift.  Nor are cleaning items of any sort. Anything that we can use to better serve YOU?  No.
  4. If you value your life at all, or most importantly your nether regions, do not even consider, nay don’t even breathe in the direction of exercise equipment or diet books.  Purchasing gifts of this nature will cause women everywhere to react in the same manner, as if you threw us nekkid out of the car onto 2nd Avenue. 

Following these simple rules will allow everyone to have a safe and happy holiday season.  It will also allow you to sleep in your own bed on Christmas night.  Isn’t that a nice thought?




A word of advice from Jimmie:

If you want to look like a badass with a tatted up neck, rock star jeans, a wallet with a chain and a leather bracelet studded with silver spikes, perhaps you should not visit the grocery store with gauze wrapped all around your neck after getting tattoo work done and wince around the aisles like a whipped puppy dog, clutching your throat every time you move or speak. Doing this will instantly negate all your badassyness and instead make everyone (Jimmie) think you look like a wimp and a moron. 

The end.

Guess Where I Am . . . .

Also, a PSA – Men, if you insist on wearing a Speedo to the beach, please do not jog along the shore in it.  You are doing yourselves no favors.



Highly Recommend, By Jimmie – Take Two.

Dear Readers,

I’ve done some fun stuff lately.  Lest you think I don’t have a life anymore due to job hunting and crying and re-budgeting and talking about my sexy hair, I thought I should write it up for you.  Following is my new list of things for you to consider doing: 

Rock Island Playdate – When your friends ask you to drive 2 hours to the coolest place in the world for a day of relaxation and fun, you go.  Do not think twice about it.  Pack up a cooler full of lunch, get some water, throw a towel in the car and take off.  Probably you should spend some real money on proper water shoes and also probably you should dress for hiking as well as floating (can anyone say “upper body support, i.e. bra instead of swimsuit”?) but even if you don’t, you will have the time of your life.  Take lots of pictures so that you can show off to all your friends. Post them on your blog.  Isn’t that waterfall nice? It was gorgeous! 

Not pictured?  The poison ivy I sat in . . . .

Gavin DeGraw – I, too, wish I could explain it.

Kayaking – I’ve waited my whole life to do this but I guess I didn’t know it.  I’d been saying I was going to go for months and last Tuesday was the first time I got to keep my promise.  I put on the ill-fitting life jacket (can anyone say “Stay Puft Marshmallow Man”?) and perched my poison ivy covered butt in that kayak.  After I ran into a couple of docked boats and a couple of my friends, I got the hang of things.  Now while most of you probably prefer the straight line method of kayaking in which you go from point A to point B in a linear manner, you need to understand that I prefer the Charlie Brown sweater pattern method of kayaking.  I like to zig and then zag and take far longer than anyone else to reach the destination.  It’s a much better shoulder workout, see.  Lynnette will be proud.

Maxi Dresses – go to Old Navy and get yourself one and wear it to visit Poppa.  After he asks you why you wore your nightgown to visit him, you’ll throw it in the trash.  (Can anyone say, “You look pregnant in that dress?”)

Urban Hike – for a few months I’ve been participating in something called an Urban Hike.  It’s a long walk through downtown Nashville in which we visit historic sites and landmarks particular to Nashville.  We also climb 248 stairs, ring the Liberty Bell and sweat like warthogs but it’s really quite rewarding.  What I don’t recommend, though, is missing a couple of weeks of the walk, especially when some key elements of the walk are changed (i.e. changing the route from five miles to six) and then not bringing water to the new and improved six mile walk when the temperatures have just peaked at the all-time high of 109 degrees.  Also not recommended is yapping excessively about how fantastic this walk really is to two men who have unreciprocated interest in you.  When you make it sound like the most incredible of hikes, do not be surprised when both of those men show up (uninvited by you) on the SAME NIGHT to walk with you.  (“Can anyone say, “Awkward”?)

Cakes from Freddie – This here is the cake Freddie made for my birthday.  It was delicious!  Because she makes such delicious cakes, she has started a little side business called World Piece Cakes.  Isn’t that cute?  Check it out here.

Planning stuff with Woney – I always like to end these Highly Recommend posts with something about Woney.  Have you noticed that?  Anyway, Woney has been working out with Tony now for a year.  Lemme tell you, she looks FIERCE!  That guy knows his stuff. (Can anyone say “This is hard” and “I’m tired”?  Cause Woney can’t.  Tony won’t let her anymore.)  He got her started on some new cardio routines too, and she’s running a lot now, much like I used to.  (le Sigh, but I’m getting there!) We talked for months about doing the 5K Color Run in Nashville and then somehow missed the deadline to enter which, with both of us being blondes and having lives, I don’t understand.  Anyway, we talked about it, got excited about it, missed the deadline and then gave up on it altogether.  Instead, she is coming to visit me *just because* in November.  Also, we are going to Ireland in a year or so to celebrate her birthday and now will begin ramping up those conversations and planning discussions.  It’s just too exciting! 

So now, in conclusion,

The end. 

As It Relates To Job Hunting

Y’all remember when I got lambasted for not having pearls to wear at an interview?  Look here at what Auntie Anne sent me.  My grandmother’s pearls!  Every last strand of them!  She sent them as a birthday gift with a note that said, “If you don’t want to look like a lady, wear them all at once.”  That is just like her . . . I plan on taking her advice and wearing every last strand of them over to the staffing place that was so snooty about my hair and while there, I will swan about with my brand new paycheck.

Speaking of hair, I have a story. Surprise.

A few years ago, when Boss and I were still a team, we ran into a travel snafu of sorts.  He had an evening meeting in St. George, Utah on a particular night and an interview at the Nashville airport the very next morning at 9:00.  I don’t know if you are good at geography and/or math but you should realize that getting from Utah to Tennessee in just a few hours is no easy feat.  Boss had to take a red-eye, get off the plane, and almost immediately go into an interview for a job we really wanted.  Because no one is pretty after an all-night flight and because no hotel will accept a reservation for 7:30 a.m, Boss had to find a place to shower and shave and generally get presentable.  The only logical choice was my house.

Our receptionist picked him up at the airport and drove him over to my house so that he could ablut before doing his dog and pony show for the airport executives.  When he came back to the office after his interview, we all noticed that he smelled a lot like girl and grapefruit and that his hair was exceptionally volumized.  After making fun of me a whole lot for the array of hair products I had in my bathroom, he swilled down some Red Bull, propped his eyes open with toothpicks and sat in his office pretending to work.  The staff, in turn, spent the day walking by his office, tossing around comments about his fruity scent and his poufy hair, and pretending to work.  (Coincidentally, we all got huge raises that year.) 

Before I finish my story, let me share another photo.

This here is my hair stuff.  And I think I see the problem.

We did not get the job at the airport.  I did not get a job through that staffing agency or even a single phone call from them.  What are the chances, do you think, that the snooty snothole over at The Hadden Group was right – that one will never get a job in Nashville if one has sexy hair?   Hmmm.  I’d believe it if I hadn’t been offered a job THAT VERY SAME DAY.  Obviously some people are enamored of my big sexy hair and want to pay me to bring it to work every day. 

Your loss, Airport.  Your loss, snooty staffing agency.  I’m not sure you could have handled us anyway. 

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