Humor | Love, Jimmie

NaNoWriMo And Other Assorted Nonsense

21 Oct 2012 10 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Family, Friends, Guest Post Tags: Humor, Writing

I got a catalog in the mail yesterday from Heifer International. I’m going to let you marinate on that for a minute before commenting further.

. . . . . . . . elevator muzak . . . . . . . . . .

I choose to believe that someone sent that catalog to me because they admire all the good deeds I do and wanted to help me further my philanthropic spirit rather than believe that someone sent it to me as a subtle hint.

Actually, its pretty cool. You should check it out: Heifer International. Family, do not be surprised if you get a “share of a goat” for Christmas.

Madre was here last weekend to walk a 5K with me. It was the Oktoberfest Bier Run in which loads of people turned out to trot around Germantown for the privilege of drinking free beer at 9:00 a.m. I don’t get it. Neither did Madre. We were pretty stoked about the t-shirt and the free bagels, though, so we took off on the three mile jaunt. Madre’s been hitting the walking pretty hard lately and she looks marvelous but walking with Madre is a bit of a challenge.

See, Madre is 6’2”, and I’d guess about 6’1” of her are legs. She has a long stride which makes it difficult to keep up with her. While I’m pretty tall in my own right, I find myself doing this half jogging/walking/deep step thing to keep her pace which really tugs at my hamstrings. It is an excellent workout but I could really use some of that stretching afterwards, you know, and some oxygen. Yesterday, Madre walked/slightly jogged her second ever 5K and won first place for her age division! I’m super proud of her but you know all those other participants were like, “Who is Leggy McStriderson up there? She stole my trophy! Heifer.” Congrats, Mom! Well done!

Now that I have you guys all sentimental about my family and my philanthropic good deeds, I need to ask a favor of you. See, there is an event that I’ve been planning to do all year and this event will take place during the entire month of November. That means I will have very little time to visit with you here and entertain you with my big sexy hair and my mad skills as a handyperson.

Have you heard of NaNoWriMo? It’s a one month writing frenzy in which you challenge yourself to write 50,000 words. They don’t have to make sense or fit perfectly although it would be nice if they did. They just have to be done. And I’m going to do it. Did you know that 50,000 words is approximately the length of a third of a novel? Some of you know this already, but I write a lot here to practice for other writing things that I really want to do, like a novel for example. (This is the point where all of you rush to comment section to offer support and promise to purchase anything of mine that ever gets published.) I’ve started four novels/books so I very much want to see if I have it in me to do this, to actually finish one.

The thing is, I don’t want my blog to be silent for a whole month. I want there to be some activity here. I’m asking you, my faithful readers, to blog for me. Can I get some of you to guest post? I have a list of items I am willing to trade for your prose.

In return for your post, I am willing to offer any or all of the following: my share of Channing Tatum (his neck is too wide for me); my share of Ryan Gosling (his neck is too long for my tastes); my share of any and all sushi (ugh, gross); my share of all onions (we have covered this); my share of Adam Levine (he looks a bit like a weasel); an eyelash flutter (I have some great new mascara); and/or finally, a full grown cat named Murphy. I will also generously throw in some Big Sexy Hair volumizer to sweeten the deal.

For the record, I already have a guest post from Boss and a promise of one from Prom Date Will. That leaves 28 open spots for the rest of you. So, Freddie, Lorne (Ty), Martie, The Squirt, Woney, Studio Bukowski – any of you up for the challenge? Anyone else? I hear Channing Tatum has some pretty sweet abs.

Then, because I know how much you guys will miss me, in the month of December I’m going to go for NaBloPoMo. It was supposed to be the challenge in November for bloggers but since I like to march to the beat of my own drum, I felt like it could be your reward for letting me have a month off.

I look forward to the influx of comments/volunteers. Holding my breath actually. Don’t make me pass out.

How Quickly I Get Spoiled

16 Oct 2012 1 Comment

by Love, Jimmie in Family, I'm Going Somewhere Tags: Humor, Travel

Sigh. I had to go back to work yesterday after being off for an entire week. Again, happy to have a job but am slightly resentful that I am not a self-made millionaire right now. I think I could be a lady of leisure, don’t you? I’d spend my mornings at the gym, doing all kinds of crunches and butterfly moves so that I could have abs of steel and then I would go get massages. I’d be the most relaxed, fit person you ever met.

You know, that’s probably not true. I’d be as big as a house and lazy as a cow cause I feel certain I’d be able to justify lounging around in sweats while I ate bon bons all day as a “noble endeavor”. Good thing I have a job I need desperately to pay all my bills so that I don’t get fat and lumpy.

This trip was to South Beach, in Miami. I yapped about it a lot to anyone who would listen before going and the reactions I got fell into one of two categories:

“I’m so jealous, you guys will have so much fun!” and,
“Don’t get killed. I can’t believe you picked that place.”

Don’t rain on my parade, people. (It’s possible I’m speaking directly to snooty snothole Bianca here. She’s so lovely.)

So, yeah. It was fun. My two sisters and I went, for my 40^th birthday. Martie, The Squirt and I have never taken a trip together, just the three of us and I’m proud to say that I like them better after returning. That doesn’t always happen you know. Sometimes you realize that the ones you love have awful snoring habits or they really are high maintenance about a bathroom, so much so that you spend half a day trying to find one that meets some obscure and ridiculous standard. Not the case here! We had a blast!

I’m going to cover the basics of our trip here. Items of note:

Martie and The Squirt are the fortunate sisters with regards to complexion. Both of them can get as brown as a berry in short span of time and I, well I burned myself in nearly every available place on my body. Some of those places were rather unfortunate which made sitting on the plane home big fun! Also, the red and pink and freckled streaks across my body look beautiful.

Three women tooling around in a Mustang convertible, (color: red), hair blowing in the wind, get a lot of attention. Especially when The Squirt drives. She has a lead foot, that one. We got a lot of blown kisses and from braver drivers, other more vulgar displays of admiration.

Tasty beverages do not make getting your fingers slammed in a car door hurt any less.

The Speedo is making a comeback. Either that or loads of European men frequented South Beach. I found myself not nearly as offended as I thought I might be, probably because these men wore them with extreme confidence. However, nary a single one of those men checked the elastic bands in their Speedos before donning them. Men over 70, please note that gravity has already worked its magic on you. Elastic can help.

Seriously, this was such a fantastic trip. My sissies . . . ah, they are so great. I just can’t get over how much I love them and how much they love me. Combine that with gorgeous sand and sea? I’ve said this once before but it bears repeating. I love the ocean. I cannot get enough of it, especially with views like this. How can you not love it? How can you not see God’s hand in that, in all that love and beauty? Happy sigh.

For those who had varying reactions about my vacay? Final judgment: You should be jealous! We had a blast!

Guess Where I Am . . . .

08 Oct 2012 3 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in I'm Going Somewhere, Imparting Wisdom Tags: Humor

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.

Love,

Jimmie

Pass The Toilet Paper, My Toilet Is Fixed!

03 Oct 2012 2 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Friends, Home Improvement, I'm Such A Girl Tags: Humor

What an ordeal. Have mercy. The drama is really over. I’ve waited a whole week before telling you, just to make sure.

Before I tell you how that stupid ceramic bowl was finally repaired, I have some other stories. About two years ago, Daddy-O and JiJi came for a visit. While they were here, the handle on the potty broke so Daddy-O, being handy with the tools and the plumbing, trotted out to Lowe’s and purchased a new handle for me. Upon taking the potty apart, he discovered that the old handle was merely loose, so he fixed that and gave the new handle to me for return to Lowe’s. Being the good, obedient daughter that I am, I stuck that handle in the backseat of my car and drove it around for two solid years. All my friends and my nieces, every time they got into my car, would ask, “Why do you have a toilet handle back here?” Yet I never felt compelled to take it back.

Also, after I posted that last potty post in which I lost my mind with bad words, I received three phone calls from three very handsome men who tried to tell me how to fix it.

Zorro called first. He’s a friend from Alabama who would have come over the very first day to fix it had we lived close enough. He instructed me to sit backwards on the potty, lid down of course, and take off the back so I could tell him what was going on. Our conversation went something like this:

Zorro: “Okay, look at the flusher and tell me what it does when you push the handle down.”

Jimmie: “What’s the flusher?”

Zorro: “It’s the mumblemumblemuble in the back.”

Jimmie: “I go by color. What color is it?”

Zorro: “Well it could be either white or black. It does mumblemumblemumble.”

Jimmie: “Right.”

So we got a lot accomplished.

Then Javier called and the conversation went much the same way. I’m so fun.

Then Daddy-O called, after consulting a real live plumber for help, but since our conversation tanked (haha, I did that on purpose!) due to my lack of knowledge of working toilet parts, we all decided that I probably just needed a new toilet. Awesome.

THEN! In one final hurrah, Freddie and her father (both engineers, btw) came to my house last week to fix that blasted thing. Initially Freddie and I had conversations similar to the one above, and Freddie, who really gets me, said she would just bring her dad over to see what was going on. It helped that I promised margaritas.

I won’t drone on about how we fixed it but I will tell you that even the engineers were stumped, at least for a minute. We did have to take it apart twice and there was much holding of tanks and much screwing in of bolts. Mostly I stood around and looked pretty but I was there, offering support and reminding them of the single margaritas that I purchased for each of them.

Halfway through the evening, after we thought it was fixed only to be denied as we watched the water, once again, drain completely out of the tank in just a matter of minutes, Freddie’s dad said, “I really wish we had bought a new handle when we bought all the other parts. That would really help.”

I said, “I have one in my car. I’ll go get it.”

I trotted out to my car and came back in brandishing my (nearly) brand new toilet handle. Both Freddie and her dad looked at me, eyes huge, like anime characters. “What? Why? Jimmie?”

“Viola!” I said.

Do you know how funny that is? That I, Queen of all Things Sparkly, had a toilet handle in the back of my car? I amuse myself. Never underestimate me, people. I will always pull through. When will you learn?

In one final toilet comment, last week I had to purchase toilet paper for the first time in six months. Between Phranke and my anonymous toilet paper donator (Jonquil!), I haven’t had to buy any in that long. I have the best friends!

Also, who do you know that blogs about their potty as much as I do? I should win an award.

P.S. So that no one gets mad at the handy man who fixed it last time, please know that he gave me some money back because it didn’t work. Aces, man. That was awesome.

Coulda Been A Contender

27 Sep 2012 2 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Family, Friends, I'm Such A Girl, This Will Probably Get Me In Trouble Tags: Humor

Let’s get ready to RRRUUUMMMBBBBLLLEEEE! Am I allowed to say that? Is it trademarked? Don’t any of the 43 of you who read me tell on me if so.

I got a lot of nominees for my soon-to-be-football team. I’ve also done a lot of research on my own. Did you know, by the way, that Googling the term “Hot Shirtless Football Players” will take you to some sexual sights designed for gay men? Me neither. Then I learned that Googling plain old “Hot Football Players” would take you to a bunch of soccer websites, and I got all distracted for a while looking at those guys and nearly forgot my mission. Wow, soccer players are nice looking.

Anyway, first thing I did on my own was have a look at the NFL site just to get a feel for the teams available to me, and I must say, some of the logos are plumb awful. Right away I discounted anyone with a stupid logo which meant that the NY Jets & Giants, the Cleveland Browns, and the Buffalo Bills were knocked out. Then I eliminated poor color choices which removed the Saints, the Buccaneers (any team that willfully chooses to clothe their athletes in pants that are African American flesh colored so that major chunks of the team look naked as they run down the field deserves to be cut), the Packers and again, the Cleveland Browns (how are they even a team?). THEN I did the Googling which nearly got me arrested/fired and found some cuties which almost put the NY Jets & Giants and the Greenbay Packers back on the list; however, I defined standards and I will adhere to them so those three teams remain disqualified.

From there, I dutifully studied all the nominated teams which included the following: Pittsburgh Steelers, St. Louis Rams, Carolina Panthers, Dallas Cowboys, Tennessee Titans, Cincinnati Bengals, Miami Dolphins and the Baltimore Ravens. I’m giving them all a fair look before making a final decision. Here’s where I stand with my quest thus far:

STEELERS: I have a new work friend, the one who gave me the Steelers jersey to wear, and she invited me to partake of a Steelers game with her and her family. I’m naming her Katniss, primarily because she seems kind of scrappy, like she could do some damage to your guts if you ticked her off, but also because she’s pretty. Katniss took me over to her brother’s house for the Steelers/Raiders game, and we settled into the Steelers man cave for the afternoon. I peed next to Troy Polamalu a few times (life size sticker on the bathroom wall),had snacks out of a Steelers helmet and off of Steelers plates, wiped my mouth with a Steelers napkin (which I was afraid would get me hurt as I felt that they might view that as a desecration of Steeler property), and finally, I smacked hands with a giant inflatable football player wearing Steelers gear every time a touchdown was scored.

I also watched a video of this nature and was pretty enamoured of it:

Steelers Renegade

The logo is fancy, the colors look good on me, and Polamalu has pretty hair. Also, that coach of theirs, Mike Tomlin, is a lovely man. Still contenders.

TITANS: I had a lengthy discussion with a man I’ve named Thor (because I like the name Thor) about why the Titans would be a good choice for me. His best argument is that being a Titans fan teaches us patience and perseverance. This man is a high school teacher so why he needs more things to teach him patience and perseverance is beyond me, yet he was quite passionate about his fandom.

I will have more chances to see a Titans game live than any of the other teams, plus I like the logo and the colors. Blue is my favorite color, you know. Still contenders.

COWBOYS: This team was nominated by two men, both of whom I trust absolutely, and that is saying a lot. Coach has been a longtime fan of the Cowboys and follows them faithfully. But in traditional Coach fashion, he gives the soft sell so he hasn’t done much to push me. Quan also nominated this team, noting the appeal of the monstrosity they call a stadium.

I really dig that Texas star. The colors are lovely and I have silver eyeliner to match. Pretty boys play for this team. Still contenders.

PANTHERS: Lynnette and Freddie volunteered this team, simply because the QB is Cam Newton. I’ve stared at his picture a lot. It’s quite distracting as it’s my desktop photo now. He sure is pretty.

Photo credit: GQ, of course

The team colors are gorgeous! Cam Newton is gorgeous! His teeth are gorgeous! (You know how I feel about teeth.) Still contenders.

RAVENS: My experience with the Baltimore Ravens consisted of watching the movie “Blindside”, which everyone knows is about Michael Orr, a Ravens player. Great movie, but I have a policy on all movies I watch: no scary movies, no movies that make me cry and no movies that make me want things I cannot have. Blindside, unfortunately, violated my movie policy, giving me chapped cheeks because I cried so much.

The colors are nice, the logo is nice, but the crying did me in. Sorry, Ravens. No longer contenders.

RAMS: I need to do more research here. I am quite moved by the horns on the helmets. Still contenders.

BENGALS: This team was nominated by another man that I trust, except he moved away to Atlanta so now I’m mad at him. He makes the best enchiladas ever. I like the colors, I like the logo, some hotties play for the team, but I’m going to have to pass. No longer contenders.

DOLPHINS: This team was nominated by an old friend because she thought I would look pretty in the colors. She gets me! She understands what I’m going for here! I’m going to have to do more research on the Dolphins. Still contenders.

A final thought or two. While watching the Steelers/Raiders game, I saw the Raider who got knocked out in the end zone. You guys, I loved watching this game. I loved the excitement of the fans (Katniss’s family). I loved their dedication. Football in general appeals to me. But when that guy got hurt and just laid there, my stomach was all up in my throat and I felt sick. I prayed and prayed and prayed for him and was a hot mess inside until he gave the thumbs up. Do I have the fortitude to be a football fan? Still contending on that one . . . .

Also, I think someone needs to make me some brackets for all this mess here. I’m getting confused by my own self. Coach?

A Lesson For You On A Wednesday

26 Sep 2012 Leave a comment

by Love, Jimmie in Friends Tags: Humor

You guys, I’m getting a little worried about Dammit Todd. I haven’t seen him in a while (still never met the imaginary girlfriend either), and I just heard about the possible looming bacon shortage. Dammit Todd once delivered a truly moving monologue on the versatility of bacon, how it’s smoky flavor contributes something to every single food group, how everything is simply better with bacon. I challenged him on that, purchasing something called a Chocolate Bacon Bar, and offered it for a taste test. His judgment? Incredibly angry that I also invited others join in the taste test, thus forcing him to share the Chocolate Bacon Bar which he clearly did not want to do. I guess bacon does make everything taste better.

I hope he pulls through this devastation. I imagine he will look gaunt and slightly emaciated once the ordeal is over but I have faith in his strength (and the support of his imaginary girlfriend). Actually, I feel for all meatatarians during this time of famine. Godspeed, men. Push through. I wish you well on this journey.

While I am on the subject of Dammit Todd and his absence from my life, I’m going to tell you calmly and sedately that my car broke again. The most dramatic I will get about it is this: THIS MAKES NUMBER FIVE! IN FOUR MONTHS TIME! In this instance I could have really used myself some Dammit Todd as the fix required the jacking up of my car and the screwing in of some bolts onto some pan thingy or other. But I found myself a replacement Dammit Todd who Ima call MacGyver (because something about that name implies being good at fixing stuff with baling wire and bubble gum, I don’t know why, do you?). MacGyver manfully jacked up that car, whipped out an electric drill and drilled away on the pan thingy. He hollered from underneath the car, “Gimme something plastic to screw this bolt into!” His (non-imaginary) girlfriend dug through her purse and handed him the first thing she found.

Use what you have, people. That is today’s lesson. Use what you have.

Tomorrow we talk football. Prepare yourselves.

My Loyalty Is For Hire

20 Sep 2012 12 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in I'm Such A Girl, This Will Probably Get Me In Trouble Tags: Humor

A couple of weeks ago we celebrated College Colors Day at work with a tailgate party, corn hole, game day music and bourbon. And also, you know, college colors. I may share more of that story with you later (you did note the bourbon, didn’t you?), but it depends on space and how wordy I feel at the end of the story.

Anyway, College Colors Day got everyone at work in the mood for football which apparently doesn’t take much. These people are serious about their football, and about one hour after we celebrated our favorite college teams over lunch (UK, all the way, GO CATS!), everyone started clamoring about their favorite NFL teams. Human Resources, the department I work in, began receiving email after email asking for permission to wear NFL gear on Fridays from now until the end of the season. My boss, after two whole minutes of deliberation, sent out an email that read: During football season, you are allowed to wear clothing in honor of your favorite college or NFL team on Fridays. No Steelers, Gators or Ravens attire will be permitted.

What I know about football is this: you want to score touchdowns, you don’t want to give the ball away, and football players can be hot. I’m a fan of Kentucky stuff in general because my heart belongs there but last time I checked they didn’t have a professional football team. I have never had a strong opinion about an NFL team, although I do remember liking the Cowboys when I was younger because my brothers felt quite emotional about the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders (and in my mind, those brothers were the coolest people on the planet), and my Daddy-O taught Emmitt Smith in high school for one whole day in a photography class. Otherwise, I’ve never given it much thought.

Now I want to fit in with my co-workers and I most especially want to the chance to wear jeans and sweatshirts every Friday for the next few months as I celebrate my team’s victories. I just don’t know who to pick. A co-worker, fast becoming one of my favorites, asked me if I would wear a jersey in honor of her favorite team if she brought it for me. Of course I would! You know what she brought me? A Steelers jersey. You remember who hates the Steelers? My new boss. Oh noes! I sat at my desk, typing away like mad, when my boss, a raging Titans fan, saw me and said this:

(indignantly) “Jimmie, what are you wearing?”

Jimmie: (sheep facedly) “A Steelers jersey.”

New Boss: (jokingly, I hope) “I’m going to have to write you up for insubordination.”

Jimmie: (slightly defiantly) “Well, I have no loyalties. This was the jersey I had, and this was the jersey I wore. If you bring me a Titans jersey, I’ll wear that next time.”

And thus my job was saved.

That following Sunday, I was invited to the Titans game. I happily went. I purchased my own Titans gear, thinking “You know, I live in Nashville. We have our own team. These fans sure know how to party. There is a lot of loyalty here. Maybe I am a Titans fan.” But then I watched the Patriots wipe the floor with us, and I watched us let them wipe the floor with us without a fight, plus I got sunburned at the game and we all know how much I love the sunburn look on me, therefore I have decided the Titans do not get my loyalty.

What I’m saying it this: I need a team, people. I need to choose a team, all for me, so that I can have a football purpose. I’ve kicked around some ideas for what is important to me. If I want to invest in clothing, I could consider cost per wear and go with the Steelers as they have had more Super Bowl wins than anyone else. But Ben Roesthenesligersnot is kind of a douchecanoe, so the Steelers may not work for me. If I want to choose local flavor, I’d be all for the Titans but again, how can I support a team who merely tosses the ball to the opposing team and says, “Here. You look like you want to win. You can have the ball.” Madre is especially partial to Peyton Manning so the Broncos are under consideration. I do like Peyton Manning. He’s funny, he’s smart, he’s cute. But that is Madre’s team and I feel like I need my own.

I had a phone conversation with Jonquil about this, and also Ty, and we all agreed that I need to have some criteria for choosing a team. This is what I’ve decided to look for: teams with the prettiest colors (any team using the color brown is automatically disqualified) and teams with a hottie player. I know that all you men and die-hard football fans (Woney and Kindle, I’m looking at you) will embrace my journey whole-heartedly and really help me determine my best choice. Please send all nominees to my comments section. Pictures are very welcome.

P. S. I think I feel like typing more, so I’ll tell you the bourbon story. First let me tell you about the CEO I last worked for, the man who was ultimately responsible for letting me go. (This may not be a warm, fuzzy description.) Physically, he is an imposing man. He looks oddly like a human version of Shrek. I like Shrek, kind of crabby, soft hearted, a bit like an ogre. CEO Shrek fancies himself an Everyman, always wanting to relate to the little guy while still maintaining his status as “Boss”. Often his conversations and speeches are peppered with warm anecdotes and “I remember when” stories. He is partial to the sweater vest. A nice enough man, certainly, but not one you ever get to know, and not one who can separate himself from the awkwardness of being the stereotypical engineer nor having the same veneer that sticks to all politicians. He’s like a warm yet firm handshake that leaves you feeling like you just got played. I don’t hate the man. I’m not even angry at the man. I can honestly say that if he were on fire on the side of a deserted highway and I drove by with an exceptionally full bladder, I would urinate on him to save his life and it would give me great pleasure to do so.

Now let’s talk about my current CEO. I hear rumors that he genuinely cares about his employees and I believe it. He’s helped me open mail before, when I’ve been overwhelmed, and twice he’s moved boxes for me. For our potluck on College Colors Day, he brought the following: baked beans, O’Doul’s, beer pong, and pickles. He also brought a bottle of bourbon. His family makes it so it’s decent stuff. He sold it for a dollar a shot (after lunch only, one shot limit) and he donated all the proceeds to charity. He’s never once worn a sweater vest.

Oh, how different is my life now . . . .

No!

17 Sep 2012 5 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Aack!, Home Improvement Tags: Humor

Filth Flarn $%#!^&**^#!$%@ toilet!

The end.

%$#^&*^%!!!

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

16 Sep 2012 7 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Home Improvement, This Will Probably Get Me In Trouble Tags: Humor

Guess what works now? My toilet. Guess who fixed it? Me!* You may think me pathetic for being as ecstatic as I am over a working toilet but its been five months. Levels this high of ecstasy far surpass any harsh names you throw my way. Besides, sticks and stones and all that. I am too happy, happy over a porcelain seat with water that runs through it. Murphy, too, is quite charmed. His drinking fountain has been restored. Five long months with no properly working toilet and/or watering hole will do that to a person and/or her recalcitrant cat. I’ve learned more about toilet maintenance than I ever cared to know and now feel a little greasy under my fingernails.

Guess what else works now? My garage door openers. Both of them. Guess who fixed them? Me!* I learned, all by myself*, how to reset those suckers. It only took two years and some swear words and a new battery and the realization that the new battery was in upside down. Now they work great and I can get rid of the one I’ve been using all this time that is held together by a rubber band once used to hold broccoli in a bunch.

Guess what else I don’t have to worry about for a year or so? My hot water heater. Guess who figured that out? Me!* I learned how to drain the water out of it and look for sediment, all by myself.* Turns out my house won’t blow up in a fiery explosion due to lack of working water heater, at least for a while. This is good news.

This is one of the happiest nights of my life. I squealed like a little girl and clapped each time something was fixed. Sigh. I can go to bed content, secure in the knowledge that I am a grown-up who can fix things.*

*with the help of a handyman that I hired for the evening. BUT! I hovered over him a lot, which is certainly not at all annoying. I watched everything he did. I downloaded the manual for the garage door openers and told him which buttons to push and for exactly how long he was to push them. I chose the code for the wall mount and I chose which button he was to mash on the opener. I read the instructions on how to drain the heater and I followed him and his bucket of water on every trip he made to dump it. Finally, I mooshed on the potty gasket which was fine but in the wrong place in the toilet tank. I DID A LOT!

In other news, it turns out that Seamus likes tool boxes. He was all loved up on the handyman’s tool box, kind of curved around it and snuggling. I wanted to take his picture for you but he caught me and ran off in embarrassment.

So, anyone want to hire me for some general home maintenance? I’d be happy to come over** and tinker around with your broken appliances. Just let me know.

**with my handyman, naturally

I Could Use A Little Calamine Lotion, Please

06 Sep 2012 3 Comments

by Love, Jimmie in Aack!, Health, Pets, Weight Loss Tags: Humor

This morning I was having the epic struggle of “do I get out of bed and go to the gym at 5:30, or do I lie here and get porkier whilst sleeping an extra hour” when Murphy decided to stroll across my body. (He is currently still housed with me. We are trying some new things to see if we can’t all get along without him whizzing on everything.) He had just put his foot, claws retracted, on my leg when Seamus sneezed, causing Murphy to spaz, dig all million of his claws into my leg and use that traction as the springboard to launch him off the bed and into the window. So if you are wondering if I went to the gym at 5:30 a.m., yes, I did. I said a lot of bad words first, though. A very pleasant way to arise.

There is a new character at my gym I’d like to share with you. I’ve seen him a few times now, always in the same outfit which consists of tiny little short shorts, a miniscule tank top and royal blue Crocs. I got behind him on the indoor track a couple of weeks ago and thought he had an odd approach to exercise as he was mincing around the track at warp turtle speed. When he started high stepping on his toes, sort of swaying his hips side to side, I got the giggles. I lapped him and noted that he was wearing sunglasses at the indoor track which could possibly explain his strange walk if I were willing to stretch that idea. When I was approaching him from behind a second time, he suddenly threw his arms up into a ballroom dancer’s pose and began twirling. My giggles instantly changed to fascination as I watched him practice his steps all the way around the track. He seems quite talented and he seems to take it quite seriously. All I can do is applaud him and be slightly jealous as I have all the grace of a thundering elephant.

I haven’t talked much of my other outdoor activities lately although they still exist. I choose to flag in my participation of those activities in high summer, see, because I am prone to sunburns and unflattering cheek flushes when I’m overly warm. Basically I look like a human tomato and I don’t care how you cut it, that is not a good look. I am not a fan. I do whatever I can to avoid that look. Plus it’s been so humid lately that it almost isn’t worth the trip out of doors for walking/jogging as I’m pretty sure breathing in the water we call air down in these parts will give me pneumonia soon.

I have another Very Important Reason for avoiding the outside in high summer. In case you are wondering, I am the model of safety when I am outside performing my calisthenics or what have you. It isn’t that. I know the dangers of being a lone person in the out of doors with no defenses other than a can of pepper spray. I always stay on the marked path and never pick up rabid stray animals. I also don’t waller around in poisonous leafy flora yet do you know I somehow contracted myself a nice case of poison ivy? Or poison something. I have no idea where I got it although the Greenway would be the logical assumption. If I could smoosh all the affected parts of my skin together, it would be an area the size of a dime yet I feel as if I am dying a slow, painful, itchy death. I wake up itching. I go to bed itching. And because I am a grown up and can do as I like, I have scratched all the skin off my arms and now look like I have a case of weeping eczema. I don’t care that it is only a dime-sized area of skin, it is killing me. (I realize this might be a tad dramatic but it itcheeeeeessss. <whine>)

I’m going to distract myself from the itching by telling you that Daddy-O and JiJi gave me a new pink pocketknife for my birthday. It excited me to no end. However, no sooner than I opened it, hadn’t even gotten the box fully torn apart yet, when Daddy-O said, “Quick, someone get the first aid kit!” Seeing as how I bifurcated my finger within the first five minutes of owning my first pocketknife, and seeing as how I dropped the electric sander on my naked toe last summer, essentially filing the nail polish off that toe in one quick swoop and cracking the nail in a clean break, and seeing as how I contracted the raging case of poison something by touching nothing that was leafy and by barely going outside, I call that a fair statement.

I was going to have a stellar ending for this, really wrapping it all up and bringing my point home. But y’all, I just read over all this and have concluded that I am an alluring package. I don’t get why I am still single. Do you? <scratch>

Love, Jimmie