Boy Loves Girl – A Story For Your Heart

14 Feb 2013 2 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in I'm Such A Girl, Outings Tags:

There’s a little dollar store I stop in on my way home sometimes to pick up the occasional grocery item.  They don’t carry a lot of things but they have the basics.  They also carry seasonal items, and last week when I stopped to get some necessities, I swung through the Valentine’s aisle to check it out. 

As I was admiring the chocolates, cards, and stuffed animals, a woman walked down the aisle with her two boys.  Initially I didn’t pay a lot of attention to them.  I took my quick glances at the sweet stuff and then moved on to get the items on my list.  I then did a quick walk through of the store, just to see if I “needed” anything else and finally found a check-out line to stand in. 

In the check-out line was a Valentine’s balloon nearly the size of my car.  It was a monstrosity.  The mother and her two boys walked up to stand in line behind me and the youngest boy was instantly captivated by that balloon.  I heard him breathe in sharply and ask, “Mom, do you think she would like this?”

“Well, you already have chocolates and the dog for her.  That’s enough money for today,” she replied.

“But Mom, this would really work.  I just know it.  I’ll pay for it.  I’ll wash dishes,” he pleaded.  Let me clarify.  He was not whining.  He was asking.

“Don’t you think it’s a little big,” she asked.  “It’s probably expensive.”

“I love her, Mom. It has to work.”  I could hear the emotion in his throat. 

Her heart melted.  I felt it.  I turned to look back at him, to get a closer peek.  This boy was maybe nine or ten.  He had red curly hair with red-blonde eyelashes and a million freckles.  He was earnest and sincere and he had the sweetest little eyes.  He also had a stuffed dog under his arm and a heart-shaped box of chocolates with a picture of a guitar on it. 

He saw me looking and explained without my asking, “It’s for my girlfriend.  Well, she was my girlfriend and then I heard at recess that she’s going out with another guy and I have to get her back.  The dog I picked out because it’s colorful, like her, and the guitar I picked out because I like music and I want her to think of me.  Do you think she would like the balloon, too?” 

“I think everything you picked out is just perfect.  I think you chose really well,” I said.  “She must be very special.”

“She is,” he said simply.  “I love her.”  It was all he needed to say. 

They bought the balloon.  I watched them stuff the Valentine gifts in the car and I heard him telling his mom how many nights he would wash the dishes.  I hope that little girl is worth his heart because she sure has it, hook, line and sinker. 

funky-pink-heart

Happy Valentine’s Day!  I wrote a love story last year, too.  If you haven’t read it, you should.  It’s my favorite one. 

Days (Day) Of Our (My) Lives (Life) – Best And Worst

31 Jan 2013 1 Comment

by Love, Jimmie in Aack!, Outings, Pets Tags: ,

Oh, y’all I think Tuesday was the worst day of my life.  (That might be a slight exaggeration.  The day I melted deodorant into my makeup bag was pretty bad, as was the day I had to have my car towed due to a dead starter and my neighbor, whose driveway was blocked by the tow truck for LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES, had a hissy fit about potentially being blocked in her garage for LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES on the off chance she might suddenly need to go somewhere which we all knew was ridiculous as she had, literally, just arrived home.)  (I read a lot of Faulkner in college.  You are welcome for the run on sentence.)

Tuesday morning I had the sinking realization that Seamus was missing.  I had a suspicion on Monday evening when he didn’t come galloping out from under the bed when I shook the treat bag, but occasionally he is moody and stuffs himself up inside the box springs to hide.  It isn’t unusual for him to forgo his happy part of the day (i.e. treats/peas) so that he can sulk alone.  I texted Martie about it Monday night and even she, who doesn’t like cats nary even a little bit, was worried and offered to call so that she could commiserate with me.  Tuesday morning I had to text her that it was official.  Seamus was gone.

When it hit me, I started to shake.  Seamus is older and slightly pudgy.  He’s weird and emotionally stunted.  He likes Murphy, treats and the white fuzzy blanket on my bed.  Once he sat on my legs and purred but when he realized that Murphy was nowhere to be found, he leapt off me and went under the bed.  Despite all of this, and I’ll say this at a whisper, Seamus is my favorite cat.  DO NOT TELL MURPHY. 

With tears in my eyes, I started looking under the beds and in the closets to see if maybe he had passed in the night, alone and wadded up in box spring.  I couldn’t find him anywhere and suddenly had the weird notion that maybe he had gotten outside.  I immediately rejected that.  Seamus, even when the door is open for hours on end, will stick one paw and one ear out the door, and like a kid dared to run into the cemetery, will immediately bound back into the house, all giddy and spastic as if he’d just done the scariest, bravest thing of his life.  In short, he never goes outside. With that thought, I left for work, teary-eyed and sad, still wondering where I would find his lifeless body.

Halfway out of my neighborhood, I realized I left my purse at home.  I drove back and ran in quickly to get it.  Guess who was standing outside the back door. Just guess.  That little turd had been outside gallivanting for two whole nights and when I opened the door to let him in, breath whooshing out of my lungs, he pranced around, clearly proud of himself.  I could have beat him.  I tried to hug him but he made a beeline for the food bowl so I settled for just rubbing his ears for a minute.  Since I was already late for work, I left him alone with his food and his friend.

When I arrived at work, I still had a bit of bile in my throat from the worry and then the sudden joy.  My legs were still a little shaky.  So when I happened to look down at the ground and saw that my jump drive, the jump drive that holds everything I’ve ever written over the last two years, the only jump drive that I own and the only place where my writings are stored, was mangled under the tire of a car, wet and covered in dirt, I started to cry.  I know I should have backed all that up.  I know that.  You won’t yell at me any louder or more harshly than I already did myself.  How it got from the bottom of my purse to the bottom of a tire on someone’s gigantic four door jeep is beyond me.  I just know what when I picked it up the mangled metal fell apart in my hands and I was devastated.  No way could I recreate all that work.  No way.

I dusted it off and took a look at it through my watery eyes.  The end that plugs into the computer looked okay and once I blew the dirt out of it, I stuck it into my laptop with my hopes lunging up and down.  I waited.  Then waited. Then waited some more.  It was nauseating.  After an eternity, the window for the drive opened giving me access to all my files.  They were all there and every single one of them opened. I immediately wobbled my way back to Katniss and said in a hoarse whisper “Give me a jump drive.  Now.”  She saw the look of panic in my eyes and handed over her brand new one.  I wobbled back to my desk and did the drag and drop into to the new device.  Then I ordered two more drives from Office Depot, one for me and one for her.  I’ll repeat the process again when it comes in, and then hide one away in a safe place and the other will be stuck in my bra at all times. 

Talk about a roller coaster.  Tuesday sucked.  And then Tuesday was glorious.  Best and Worst, all in 24 hours.  That was a lot for one day.  I need a drink.

Oh, BTW, this was Seamus when I got home last night.  I love that stupid cat. 

IMG_2275

 

Not Quite Dammit Todd

17 Dec 2012 2 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Friends, Outings Tags:

Last night was my church small group Christmas party.  In class yesterday morning we talked first about what each person should bring to the potluck later in the evening and then about the lesson.  One guy in particular, Jacob, was pretty excited about all the food we would be having and at every pause in the lesson he would sigh, “ham” or “mashed potatoes” or “green beans”.  Once during the Creation story when it was mentioned that Eve was formed from Adam’s rib he moaned “ribs”. 

This was a boy with an appetite. 

I don’t know if you know this about me but I like it when men eat.  I don’t want some guy to have a namby pamby appetite.  I want him to pile his plate up and really enjoy his food, and I want to watch him do it.  It’s why I like Dammit Todd so much.  I was fully prepared to stare in admiration at Jacob throughout the dinner as he tucked into it.  To my delight he piled his plate up good, getting some of everything.  He sat down and sniffed his food, waiting for everyone else to get seated.  He put his napkin in his lap after the prayer and grabbed his fork.  And halfway through his plate he said, “My eyes were bigger than my stomach.  I’m full,” and he pushed his plate away.  I was crestfallen.  What a disappointment.  Almost ruined the party for me.  But I got a pretty angel ornament and so the evening was saved. 

Speaking of Dammit Todd, I’d like to announce that we are now to refer to him as Dammit Todd, P.E.  The P.E. (Professional Engineer) is a test that engineers must pass in order to get specific raises and job titles and respect, etc.  Dammit Todd is now a member of the elite.  Congrats, man!

Also, speaking of Miguel (work with me here), I’d like to announce that we are now to refer to him as Miguel, E.I.T.  This is another such similar test and Miguel is now a member of that elite.  Congrats, man! 

I have such smart friends. 

Home, Part 2

16 Dec 2012 4 Comments

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

In light of our nation’s recent events, I feel the need to celebrate my family once again.  Thanksgiving this year was spent at the homestead, reminiscing, loving, just enjoying each other’s company.  I feel so fortunate to have a family and to even like them!  Here are some additional pictures.

IMG_1851

This is Precious.  Or Girlfriend.  I’m embarrassed to say that I don’t know which one this is.  Madre treats these varmints as if they are her children and since this girl is my “sister”, I’m ashamed I can’t remember her name.  That’s okay, though.  Madre, when she’d get mad at us as kids, could never remember our names either.  Turnabout’s fair play.

IMG_1849

This was our Christmas tree one year.  Poppa said we weren’t to have some tree just go to waste after being gussied up for a few weeks. No siree. We got a live tree with a giant bulbous root on the bottom of it, and because it was a live tree we could only have it decorated for three days before we had to plant it.  We decorated it in a frenzy and sat maniacally by it, just staring at it and absorbing as much of it as we could before we disrobed it and hauled it out to the yard to plant.  We did this for a couple of years but this was the only tree that has survived the planting.  The other trees either croaked off shortly after being planted or were killed in a freak thunderstorm.

IMG_1812

This here is Poppa’s truck.  Have you ever seen a manlier truck in your whole life?

IMG_1818

This is the baptizing hole.  It is exactly what you think it is.  Local churches would bring their members here for a full immersion.  It isn’t used for that anymore which makes me a little sad.

IMG_1821

This is Boo, putting on his shoes and socks after “rescuing” Madre’s new dog, Lucy Loo.  Lucy Loo, being a spastic puppy and new to the world, doesn’t fully grasp the meaning of “You are too close to the bank! Move, dog!”  With a surprisingly wimpy splash, Lucy Loo went over the side of the bank and into the water where she discovered that full immersion is not for her.  Kasi Starr leaned over the bank and snatched that puppy up by her collar.  However, as all good men are wont to do, Boo stripped down to his bare feet and leaped into the water where he was poised to rescue in a matter of seconds. Too bad it was all for naught as Kasi Starr had already performed the heroics and Lucy Loo was saved.  So Boo stood there for a moment in the water that was, at maximum, thirty degrees and experienced a refreshing creek mud bath from the knee down.

IMG_1823

This is Lucy Loo being a very unappreciative dog.

IMG_1837

This is Jimmie, holding Tigger.  She is my little monkey.  I wish I could hug her now, and Pooh too.  I wish I had a picture of Pooh and me.  Christmas.  I’ll get it then.  I am blessed, can’t you tell?

And That Is Why Bubba And I Broke Up

11 Dec 2012 1 Comment

by Love, Jimmie in Friends, Outings Tags: ,

It was 1990 and I was a senior in high school. I had kissed a few boys but had only had one boyfriend of note. His name was Chris and he was cute but we fell apart pretty quickly when I learned that he cut the tags out of my bras so that he could show his friends what size bra I wore. Remember I was breastacularly blessed in those days. I really felt like he liked me for me and not what I brought to the party, so to speak. I thought he was one of the few guys whose eyes made contact with mine and not my chest. Apparently I was mistaken, but honestly I wasn’t crushed. I was only 16 after all.

Then when I was 17 I took a field trip with my classmates. On the bus one of my good boy friends, Billy, and I talked about prom. I know this will be hard for you to believe, but I was super shy in high school. I didn’t talk much outside of my circle and especially not to boys. I would have DIED if I had to start a conversation with one so the boys who were close to me were pretty rare. Anyway, Billy and I talked about prom and decided we’d like to go together. See, he was really tall and I had a super cute car. I could wear heels without feeling like the dork that was taller than her date and he got the chance to drive my car, which he loved. I was pretty excited about this plan.

About two weeks after I made this date, another boy started showing interest in me. His name, and I am not even kidding, was Bubba. Bubba looked me in the eye and asked me out for real dates and before long, I was wearing his class ring. I’d spend an hour or so every Sunday night melting wax from a candle and molding it to fit in the back of that ring so that it would fit me. Then I’d stare at it for hours. I loved wearing that ring. And Bubba was nice too.

When prom time rolled around, Bubba started making some noise about what we would wear. I had already designed my dress – it was a black mullet dress with a white and black polka dot liner. I was so proud of it. Here’s the problem, though. Billy had already picked out his tux to match my dress. We still were planning to go to prom together. It never occurred to me to take Bubba until he mentioned it. I wanted to go with Billy. It was a difficult conversation but Bubba said he understood.

Billy and I had a fantastic time at the prom. And then we had a fantastic time at the after party. Bubba attended the party as well, and while I liked showing off the ring to all my friends, I never seemed to make the leap into actually showing off my boyfriend. Late into the night, Billy got . . . . sick to his stomach. Yes, sick to his stomach. I’m pretty sure it was some . . . . bad crab dip, yes of course, because I know there was no alcohol at that party (Hi, Daddy-O!). Since we took my car to the prom, I drove him home leaving Bubba behind with all my friends.

Not long after that Bubba and I parted ways. It might have been the next day. I cannot recall. What remains of our relationship is a prom picture in which I am wearing his ring and some graffiti under a bridge that reads “Bubba loves Jimmie”. I’d take a picture of it but there are probably snakes under that bridge and while I loved that ring, I’m just not that committed.

In case you hadn’t guessed, Billy grew up into Prom Date Will. I’m so sad that you can’t see Bubba’s ring in the picture. Still, when Prom Date Will and I get together again, we are totally going to recreate this photo with a modern day awkward pose. I figure we are good for it in 20 years which is exactly how often we see each other. I wonder if Bubba would let me borrow his ring.

This was my date.

This was my date.

And this was my car.

And this was my car.

Sigh. Go Titans . . . .

09 Dec 2012 2 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Friends, Outings Tags: ,

I’m so happy I picked the Titans for my team.  Yeah, that was a good call.

About a week after I made my big announcement here in which I was giddy with excitement over having a team to call my own, my friend Billie asked if I wanted to go to a Titans’ game.  She had tickets and parking passes and a bottle of wine for tailgating.  Being a rabid fan and all, I said yes. 

That was the weekend we played the Bears.  Did any of you see that game?  What an embarrassment that was.  It was just pure humiliation.  I’m pretty sure that every time the Bears trotted out their defense, we gave them the ball and they scored.  Our first two points of the game were awarded because of a mistake made BY THE OTHER TEAM.  I’ll say this, the Titans have pretty colors.  That’s something.  I picked something pretty, right?

Billie and I spent the entire game sitting four rows back from the end zone and in a sea of Bears fans.  There were four people to the right of us wearing Titan’s colors and literally ever other person around us wore orange and navy and had a beer in hand.  The whole stadium was like that.  Those are some dedicated fans right there. 

Over and over again, every time the Titans did something stupid, Billie and I would slump lower in our seats.  When we initially arrived we were proud of our sweatshirts and jerseys but by the 90th Bears’ touchdown, we were practically sitting on the concrete floor under our seats and couldn’t find enough material to cover anything we had on identifying us as a Titan.  And also after the 90th touchdown, Billie and I just started telling everyone around us, “It’s our Southern hospitality.  We let you win.  Plus, we brought the cheerleaders.  You’re welcome.”  And the Bears seemed truly grateful for that. 

So about the Bears’ fans . . . . will anyone shoot me if I say they were nice?  They really were. Some of the nicest people I’ve ever met sat next to us.  The men who were so complimentary of our cheerleaders were also complimentary of Billie and me.  They liked our hair and our voices and our niceness.  I asked a few of them where the Chicago hot guys were, you know, the ones they were supposed to bring in trade for our cheerleaders.  Their response:  “We are from Chicago.  We look like sausages.  We eat well.” Noted.

And proven.  Those same guys invited Billie and me to their after game celebration tailgate party.  A group of them rented an RV, loaded it up with food and booze and drove down here for the weekend and so they had parties every night.  One of the guys owns a chain of restaurants in Chicago and brought one of his giant logs of gyro meat and the thingamabob you cook it on.  They had sausages of every sort.  They had chips and pretzels and caramel corn and beer and liquor and some more beer and sausages.  Their one nod to good health was the tub of raw onions they had for the sandwiches and the lone tomato they picked up somewhere along the way. 

The group of them invented a sandwich for this road trip, called the Road Trip 2012 Man Sandwich Gyro Griller or some such nonsense.  I called it a Heart Attack on a Bun.  The sandwich started with a buttered grilled hoagie bun which was topped with at least one grilled sausage split in half lengthwise.  Into the sausage was layered an extraordinary amount of shaved gyro meat.  It was then topped with raw onion, a tomato, and more tzatziki sauce than can be good for you.  Good luck trying to eat that.  I did try it, minus the onion naturally, and after a few bites felt a little tight in my chest so I tossed the rest.  Oof.

Those guys were a lot of fun.  They were perfect gentlemen, too, which was a nice change.  Not every man who plies you with tasty beverages and food and then cleans up after you, actually washing dishes and taking out the trash, has noble intentions.  At least not in my experience.  We made no promises to keep in touch but after reading the news the following week, I sort of wish we had.  I think those guys would be inordinately proud to know that not only did the Chicago fans drink the stadium dry that day, they also wiped out nearly every bar downtown of beer.  Unheard of. 

Chicago Bears – beer drinkers, sausage cookers, football players.  What an experience.  By the way, I’m still a loyal fan of my team.  I just wish I’d get the chance to attend a game in which I don’t leave in utter humiliation.  Sigh. 

 

A Bit Of Prose About My Greenway

03 Sep 2012 1 Comment

by Love, Jimmie in I'm Going Somewhere, Outings Tags:

“An Ode to my Greenway” sounds so much nicer but we’ve already covered the bit about my talent not extending that far.  I’m just not that good, so today I have titled this correctly.  I shall write prose for you about a walking path.  And I shall include pictures.

Today I went for a walk on my Greenway.  I remembered that I wanted to share it with you because it is one of my happy places and lately, I’ve thrown a lot of negative at you.  That isn’t me, not always, so today I’m giving you a positive.

Isn’t it gorgeous?  Today is was misty and slightly messy.  Isaac has done his work on Tennessee.  Some twigs are down and a few plant stalks are bent. That’s it really, that and the rain.   When I began my walk, the sky was gray and the mist was coming, so I was hopeful that I would miss the most of the bad weather.  Unfortunately, by the end of my walk, I was rain damp and my hair was a giant sticky mess. I didn’t care. 

I’ve been walking this Greenway for maybe five years now.  I’ve met lots of fantastic people there.  Remember, there was the woman with the giant corkscrew curls who prayed all the way up that one giant hill.  Speaking of that hill, I took Madre to the Greenway once and I warned her about it.  I told her it was rough.  “It can’t be any worse than the one at home. I’m fine.”  I kept my peace and when we walked up the first section of that hill, we were both huffing and puffing pretty good.  “That wasn’t so bad,” Madre said, and then we turned the jack-knife corner and she saw the rest of it.  “Damn,” she huffed and we trudged on. One of these days at the top of that hill I will suddenly notice that I have a Beyonce booty and I will know that I got it because I drag myself up that hill far too much for my liking. 

There is a Mexican man that I see on the Greenway often.  He wears the exact same outfit every time he walks, a white polo shirt and khaki shorts.  When he sees me, he places both hands over his heart and throws them out to the side like his heart is growing.  He doesn’t speak a word of English.

There is a giant slab of a man named Jeff, who is cu-u-u-u-t-e!  So cute!  He’s nice, too, and he walks the Greenway literally every day.  He never misses, even in the rain.  One day he saw the Mexican man give up his heart to me and he said, “Be careful, Jimmie.  You are an easy girl to have a crush on and I don’t want you getting hurt out here.”  Jeff is happily married, as far as I can tell, so no big ideas anyone. 

There is a man I saw today who was doing this strange giraffe-like walk, kind of stalking and jerking his knees backward with every step.  It was weird.  He was puffing air in and out of his cheeks, like a locomotive and I couldn’t help but think that he was doing far more damage to his knees by walking in such a stiff manner than doing any good for his body.  On the other hand, there is a woman I see who runs like a gazelle, kind of on her toes and hopping.  I’ve seen her body change over the years and her figure is quite nice.  This is why I want to run, people. 

My favorite Greenway person is the 70-ish year old man who does this shuffling run for six miles or so.  He blows past me whether I am running or not, which is always a surprise as from a distance it really does look as if he’s just slowly shuffling along and next thing I know I’m left in a cloud of aftershave.  It is disheartening to know I will never get as fast as him.  He wears his trucker hat perched on top of his head, his striped athletic socks pulled up to his knees and his shorts just as baggy as a teenaged boy’s.   I admire him.

I’ve seen more deer, rabbits and snakes than I can count.  The path meanders along the lake and when the sun hits the water just right, you can see fish floating near the surface.  I’ve seen an otter doing the backstroke.  I see turtles paddling around all the time. 

In the summer, the honeysuckle is potent.  Everything is so GREEN.  In the fall the leaves are gorgeous.  You can hear the deer rustling around in the morning.  When I was going through the heartbreak, I would walk on that path, watching my breath puff in the cold morning air, and a doe would come out of the woods and just stare at me.  There was no fear. I could get almost close enough to touch her.  There was comfort in that although I’m not sure why.

A walk on the Greenway was a lovely way to begin my Labor Day.  Afterwards I went to the gym and nearly broke my legs doing lunges and squats.  I’ll have a night out with friends later.  And in the middle of all that, I, glamorously, spent the afternoon on my hands and knees cleaning the grout in my kitchen.  Nice, no?  But I really wanted to share my Greenway with you, my happy place. 

Happy Labor Day, everyone!

Highly Recommend, By Jimmie – Take Two.

19 Jul 2012 Leave a comment

by Love, Jimmie in Friends, Health, I'm Going Somewhere, Imparting Wisdom, Outings, Weight Loss Tags:

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. 

Words of Wisdom, by Jimmie

19 Mar 2012 1 Comment

by Love, Jimmie in Imparting Wisdom, Outings Tags:

If someone offers you kim chee, say no.  They might tell you it is delicious.  They are delusional.  Pickled, fermented, rotting cabbage ≠ yummy.    

If someone offers you a sample of maple bacon ice cream, say yes.  You won’t be saying yes because it is tasty.   You will be saying yes because it is terrible.  Why, you ask, do you recommend maple bacon ice cream when you think it is disgusting?  Because, I respond, after tasting maple bacon ice cream and realizing that it tastes like a cockroach threw up in your mouth, you instantly realize that the only way to get the taste out of your mouth is to purchase and enjoy a whole cone of red velvet cake ice cream.    Because you will eat the entire cone of red velvet cake ice cream in an effort to rid yourself of essence of cockroach, you will feel no guilt at all and only relief that the awful taste no longer lingers.  You’re welcome.

If someone offers you a free hockey ticket (Nashville Predators, woo!) which includes a pass into the all you can eat buffet and really sweet seats, say yes, even if it is raining outside.  I know I’ve explained to you that I don’t really “get” hockey but it doesn’t mean I don’t like to go to a game on occasion.  It’s quite exciting really.  If you can ignore the men (rabid fans, woo!) who sit directly behind you, you know, those men that give their expert and loud opinion on every single play of the game and also those men that teach you new curse words that you never dreamed existed, you will have a fabulous time.  The music (John Denver, woo!) is fantastic.  The mascot (Gnash, woo!) is rowdy. The fans (bunch of strangers, woo!) are devoted, so devoted that they paint their beer bellies with their favorite player’s number (Jordin TooToo, woo!) and will show you those bellies if you cheer loud enough for them.  Brave, brave men.  Good hockey players (Ryan Suter, woo!) make the game look easy.   It is a joy to watch and by the end of a game, you might just “get” hockey a little better. 

Men, if someone offers you a pair of skinny jeans and exclaims that they will look awesome on you, say no.  They are lying to you. 

If someone offers you a volunteer position driving a gaggle of senior citizens in a big van to dinner once a month, say yes.  You guys, I love these people so much. This month we went to the Omni Hut which is a kitschy place that serves Polynesian food.  The wait staff dresses in muumuus and Hawaiian shirts, the menu relies heavily on pineapple and teriyaki sauce, and all décor is enhanced by black lights so that everything takes on a nice neon glow.  My group has been waiting for this trip for months so I was a little surprised that for the first time since I took this position, I suffered from a few moments of embarrassment when each person at the table had an issue of some sort: 

  • “No spices of any kind on my chicken, please, no not even salt.  Especially not pepper.  I like my food plain.  Really, really plain.”
  • “This coffee tastes terrible – I can make better at home.”
  • “What is this?  Fried rice? Are you sure? I’ve never seen fried rice like this in my life.”
  • “I just killed a cockroach.  I know you can’t see it but it was here.  Okay, yes it was small but it was here, right here on the bread plate.  Would you like some bread?”  (Editor’s note:  There was no cockroach.  There was only a drama queen who was suffering from lack of attention, bless her heart.) 

I had new guy this time.  His name is Mark and he is from the Ukraine.  It was 70-something degrees outside and Mark came to dinner in a button-down collared shirt, a sweater, a jacket and a jaunty beret.  He was, in short, adorable.  After dinner, we shuffled out to the van and had a small scuffle over who would ride in the front with me.  There was a small mishap with some of the leftovers which left a pungent odor in the van. The woman who was unhappy about the cockroach was disgruntled all the way home, a 25 minute drive.  But as the seniors filed off the van, Mark adjusted his beret and said in his heavy accent, “Thank you, Jimmie.  I had a nice time.”  And he gave me a hug.  First time I’ve gotten a hug from one of my seniors.  It made the horror of the kim chee taste test fly right out of my brain.   

Philanthropy, Take Two

11 Dec 2011 4 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Imparting Wisdom, In Which I Throw Myself Under The Bus, Outings, Philanthropy Tags: ,

Welp, I’ve been working with my supper club for six months now.  I have yet to see my man with the curved spine to invite him to dinner, but I’m ever hopeful.  Still, I’ve met some great people and in typical Jimmie fashion, I have a favorite.

I’ll tell you who it’s not. It’s not Bill.  Bill likes to ride up front with me and critique my directions (which is a little bit fair as we all know how handy I am with a map.)  Bill also likes to critique drivers, particularly those of the female persuasion.  On the last dinner we did, I had had enough.  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him where he could stick his opinion but right as I opened my mouth, I backed into a pole.  Granted, it was a very short pole that no one could have seen as high up as we were in the van, but my credibility went out the window the precise moment we all felt the jolt.  Thankfully at dinner Bill had one of those fishbowl beer steins full to the brim of some heavy stout beer and he mellowed quite nicely for the ride home. 

I’ll tell you another it’s not.  It’s not Anna. Not that there is anything wrong with Anna.  I quite like her.  She’s spunky and loud and does not meet a stranger; in short, she’s me in 35 years, except I don’t smoke or eat pig knuckles (both of which she does with great regularity).  She once asked me if I would ask one of the guys who joins us on occasion if he’d ever had sex in his life.  Apparently they all wondered but no one had the guts to ask.  I joined the ranks of those who don’t have the guts.  Poor Anna.  She will always wonder I suppose. 

I’ll tell you some more it’s not.  It’s not Judy and John.  Remember them?  The couple who had just started dating?  You can read about them here.  They are still dating, I am elated to report.  I’m even more elated to tell you that they are now engaged and have set a wedding date of Valentine’s Weekend 2012.  It makes me so happy, so hopeful! 

It’s also not Bobbie and Doug, although they are pretty great.  They’ve only been with me once so far and they fought like cats and dogs the whole dinner. 

Doug would ask, “Did you eat that pork chop I made you?” 

Bobbie would reply, “No, you didn’t cook it right.  I told you how to cook it.  It was awful.  I fed it to my dog.”

And Doug would say, “Your dog!  But why?  I grilled it just right, with garlic and herbs. What was wrong with it?” 

And Bobbie would reply, “You fry pork chops.  You don’t grill them.”

I was getting a bit concerned until the waiter brought the check and Doug whipped out his card to pay for himself and Bobbie.  Turns out they have been dating for eight years and are as happy as clams. After dinner they snuggled in the van and when I took a wrong turn (I know!) they informed me that I was on Love Hill and they had been there many times.   

My favorite isn’t Gordon either, although I like him a great deal despite the fact that he is as deaf as a post and tells me the same story I just heard from the backseat from another passenger two minutes before.  He’s funny, though, and just a perfect sweetheart.

Nope, my favorite is Lily.  She’s gentle and sweet and has been on every adventure we have tried even if the restaurant is weird or overpriced and even if it is raining.  Last week we had our December dinner and I took them to a fancier, higher end place in Nashville.  The center I volunteer for said that we should try to do nicer things for dinner so I went for it.  When we got there, we all realized that while the food was good, it was not really worth the price and decided that higher end is only alright for very special occasions.  I was apologetic but then Lily said, and I’ll probably cry a little when I type this, “Jimmie, it doesn’t matter where you decide to take us.  I’ll go every time as long as it’s with you.” 

You guys, I encourage everyone out there to volunteer in some way and to do so year round.  You may go into it thinking that you will bless someone, give them something they need or can’t do for themselves.  You may give money because you have it or because you feel led to do it.  Those people and organizations will be blessed, but I’ve gotta tell you, when someone like Lily says she likes you, just because you are you, your heart will grow three sizes that day, and you will be blessed beyond all measure.

(It should come as no surprise to you that I called it.  Yep, I totally teared up a little.  I’m such a GIRL!)

Previous Older Entries Next Newer Entries