It is no secret I am a huge fan of glitter.
No secret.
I love her. Almost as much as my firstborn son.
Almost. *feels shame*
So. Saturday night I got to get outtathehouse. I went to a costume partay.
picture courtesy Mark Gesellman – Photomatopoeia
I actually don’t know what I dressed up as… an over-aged homecoming queen? Glitter herself? Continue reading ‘Make Me Laugh Monday – Glitter Spray for Crafts Finds a Higher Calling’
A little bit of this: An insider look… this Jenny on drugs blogging:
Sure… it LOOKS like I’m thinking, but… prolly not so much.
A little bit of that: My son… He’s 9 and I have no idea how I became the mother of a nine year boy. I have been in “baby/toddler/preschooler” mode since he was born and at 4 years old, my daughter Lucy still has me in the thick of battle. But I am finding I really need to shift gears. My son is 9 and is not so much the ultra-dependent little person he once was. NOW, girls are flirting with him. Oy:
… I took my daughter to play practice this afternoon. (GO Kitsap Children’s Musical Theater!!!) Olivia wandered in while I stayed in the car with my 4 year old daughter and 9 year old son. Within minutes I felt as if my hawt little minivan was a bloody carcass being circled by hungry sharks…. No, it was worse! A gaggle of giggling elementary girls circled my van when they discovered my son was safe inside.
You can read the entire expose’ at my Mom on the Spot blog over there at the Kitsap Sun…
Continue reading ‘A little bit of this, a little bit of that…’
Today has turned out to one of those days that isn’t BAD. Not anywhere near bad. However, it is one of those days where you think about checking the tide table to see if the earth is off too.
You know, a day where you spend the better part of 5 minutes going up and down stairs, in and out of rooms, knocking papers off flat surfaces — all in the hope of finding the cars keys that you are holding in your hands!
Or the kind of day you pick up your kid from preschool and you reach the end of the drive and can’t find your sungalsses and you drive back to see if your sunglasses fell out of the car and for some reason you place your hand on your neck-chest area and find your glasses hanging on your shirt.
Continue reading ‘Not “Bad” but Not Quite Right’
Last night I had to take my 6 year old daughter into the local urgent care. It seems my stellar skillz as mother are not at stellar as one might think. A wound on her arm (inflicted by beauty bark 4 days ago) grew to the size of a roma tomato between the hours of 9 and 7 yesterday…
But that’s not what I was thinking about. I was thinking this:
WHY are there no CLOCKS in WAITING rooms?
Which naturally progressed my mind toward my next thought:
Speaking of waiting… I find it a bit curious that the people in WAITING rooms are called PATIENCE PATIENTS.
Just had my thinkin’ cap on… again. I look pretty cute in a tight fitting thinking cap… I bet I’d look pretty cute in one of those little white jackets with the arms the tie behind the back.
***Olivia is doing fine, by the way. She screamed and kicked and was the bravest a 6 year old girl could be considering she was given 2 shots, lanced, then that owie had the dickens squozed out of it… and then to add insult to injury – the doctor packed it! Schnikies! I was so proud of my girl. And while I was busy being proud of her I was also busy not vomiting, though it would have been easy to do. I was also busy not passing out, though that would also have been very easy to do. As soon as I knew Livi was on the upswing, I turned onto my butt, cried, caught my breath, nearly stripped naked for I was boiling hot! And let my stomach regain it’s composure. Whew, it’s hard seeing your babies suffer.***
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Keep up on the ridiculous, the insightful, the always digressive…
My friend D… recently wrote a post titled “Peace”. *waiting for you to read her post* … In it she gives 2 Christmas lists from 2 different boys in one of the classes she works with.
This year is a hard one for many people. Honestly, in the history of “bad years”, I am thankful it is not the worst (yet?) – in my lifetime nor in recent history for that matter. But what D…’s post reminds me of the most is the broken hearted. While our nation struggles with a growing financial crisis, people are still struggling with broken hearts and broken relationships. Money or no money… there has always been loneliness, sorrow, mourning, emotional & physical pain… It is sometimes harder to see the effects of the broken-hearted than the effects of poverty.
If we look closely, the desires of the boy in that second list – really, 3 out of 5 – has to do with relationship. Him wanting a dog is even more significant in the light of #4… This makes my heart ache. I’m pretty sure it would make my heart ache even if I wasn’t a mom. And you know what? If #4 was in place, I am certain “a better life” would not have ever crossed his mind.
I know it would be easy to arrange to get a bike for this boy (my son’s age, by the way). If all the commenters on my last few posts donated a teensy $5 each, we could get that boy a bike – even several pairs of shoes. However, we all know that’s not the issue here. We all know that is not what we want for him the most, and we all know that is not truly his #1 hope. His joy needs to be fulfilled… his heart needs to be un-broken.
As we pop coins in the Salvation Army pot, maybe donate a turkey and canned goods to our local food banks… let’s not forget the broken-hearted. They are harder to see, but I am pretty sure if we slow down a bit and taken a moment to really listen… really watch our community – we’d all be pretty surprised.
I have no solutions. Perhaps it will be our little efforts collectively. Maybe a smile instead of an impatient grimace… A few extra minutes of genuine interest while the old man who talks too much in line — talks too much in line (because he is lonely)… Maybe it is, in fact, a pair of shoes for a child… Hold back judgement… Give grace… I am amazed at how one sour word or look can change MY day… Imagine the impact of even a brief moment of sincere goodness on a broken-heart — child or adult. It all trickles down.
Thank you, D… for sharing and giving me pause – especially in a season when I feel there is no time to do such things.
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Keep up on the ridiculous, the insightful, the always digressive…
“Alliterative Jenny” took down “Sensible Jenny” when they went toe-to-toe over THAT title. That “Alliterative Jenny” sure can be a Pushy Pusherson…
Anywho… I went for a run early this morning and got to be alone with myselveS. We always get some good one-on-one-on-one-one-one-on…. time in when We run “alone”. It was toward the end of my run, say, mile 5.5, that a long downhill sent me all-giddy with how good it felt to conquer a long uphill. It felt good to conquer that hill, and to be greeted with a moderate downhill. Being the thinker that I am, I thought to MyselveS:
The downhill is so much sweeter after a hard-earned uphill!
Then We thought,
That’s good stuff. We need to share that with Our public, Jenny…
So, Blogger Jenny has taken the reigns and is sharing it. What do you think? You don’t have to go for a run to appreciate this concept… Don’t you think the wonderful times of life are supremely more sweet when you have something un-sweet to compare it to? What if life was flat? I’m pretty sure we’re happy the world is not flat. But I digress. I mean really, how do we really “know” sweet in the absence sour? How do we “know” loud without soft… Dark without light… Love without hate… Chip without Dale… err… Chocolate without not-chocolate?
I certainly don’t welcome the “uphill” times of life with open arms, mostly because I am not a big fan of work or effort. You know, “uphill battles” — they can be hard, painful, and often require a lot of work. However, when those times end (and they always do)… the prize of the “downhill” comes. The fruit of one’s labor, and how sweet that fruit can be…
I dunno. Maybe I need to not spend so much time with myselveS.
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Keep up on the ridiculous, the insightful, the always digressive…
Black Friday. Ironic. You know, that plague back in the 14th Century? It also had the same descriptive… “black”. The Black Plague was also called the Black Death. Just something to ponder…
I decided a while ago to NOT join fellow consumers this year on saving lots of money I would not have spent otherwise. I decided to sleep instead. Also, the thought of being shoulder-to-shoulder with rabid humans kinda made my stomach turn. I’ve been out there before, and pretty much just enjoyed goofing-off with my girlfriends while stocking up on socks. BUT! I HATED the behavior and mindset of many of the people I was having to share my physical comfort zone with.
*Disclaimer: I know many of my friends here DID partake of this shop-stravaganza, and had I decided to go, you would have been those gals I’d have been goofin’-off with… Debating whether the deal stated was really a deal, or if I should go for the stripey socks or the polka-dot ones… It is THE public that makes me crazy, not MY public :)
I was scrolling through my Twitter updates on Black Friday evening, when I happened upon a link given by Queen of the Click… you have probably already heard about it —–> The Black Friday Walmart tragedy. These pictures capture some of the mayhem.
*Looking at the pictures remind me of the Pink Floyd concert I went to at the L.A. Coliseum back in ‘94. We got stuck in one of the massive tunnels as the concert was beginning… I remember feeling truly afraid for my life as the people in the back of the tunnel “panicked”… because they were missing the beginning. I felt pressed and helpless for several minutes. I remember thinking, “OMG, how on earth do I get out of this… Just keep calm… Are these people REALLY acting like this? I could actually die in here!”
After reading the Walmart article… looking at the pictures, did you take a step back, scratch your head and ask, “Was this in the Mighty U.S. of A.?” I know this is not the first of this type of tragedy. Which makes this even more… tragic. I cannot stop thinking about it. I cannot stop wondering how we as a nation have come to this point.
In the United States we do have wide gaps… the desperately poor and the disgustingly rich. We live in a country with extremes ranging from homeless children in our own God-fearing, red, white and blue neighborhoods to people boarding their pets at The Four Seasons. However, if we weigh rich and poor, country to country – we are golden here in the U.S. When it comes to our country as a whole, WE are not desperate. I feel guilty making such a sweeping generalization about my country, especially since I have room to breathe in my budget, but it really is true. We are a lucky People. We are a blessed People. We have not come to this:
Thanks to Shannon at Rocks in My Dryer for posting this video on her blog. This video is from months and months ago… but it gives a shockingly clear picture of where We, as a country, have never been. So, when I read articles about store employees being trampled to death in the United States of America by deal-hungry savages, I lose my frickin’ lunch. My heart aches – for the victim’s family, for my country. These mindless shoppers weren’t fighting for FOOD or WATER or standing against GENOCIDE… they were all going to spend more than they intended… and save a measly 20% on a game system for Junior or Missy to shove under the tree.
Shameful. Makes me sick. Absolutely.
And as I sit here typing away, in my warm-ish home, in stripey socks and cozy sweatpants, with my television on… Beyonce is dressed in sparkly gold, rolling in gold, gold and more gold, seducing me and The public to upgrade. Does that advertising really work? Really? Truly? I may need a barf-bag.
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Keep up on the ridiculous, the insightful, the always digressive…
OK, you got me. The above statement is not entirely true.
What now?!
Alright. The statement my chosen title makes is a gross misrepresentation, but can’t a girl dream?
This post is the long, winding story of my sixteenth birthday… my Sweet Sixteen. This is the story of a young, hormonal teen who did not get to attend her 16th birthday party.
Why have I chosen to talk about this now? I am sharing this story now because in 1-ish weeks I will be turning 36. For those of you who cannot read between the lines – this year is the Twentieth Anniversary of my Sixteenth Birthday. I have lived to tell, I have lived to tell…
Continue reading ‘I am almost just like Kevin Bacon.’
When life hands you lemons, start a blog.
- Jenny On The Spot, September 2008 -
My! GOSH! Am I a flippin’ philosophic genius, or what? Oh, don’t touch me… I don’t wanna burn ya, for I. Am. On. Fire!
I am also a poet and were Ansel Adams alive, he’d prolly compliment my mad photography skillz. He’d probably say something like, “Jenny, ON THE SPOT you are! You have such an eye for composition… shading… I can almost feel the wind blowing from the ocean shore… The juxtaposition of…” And at this point all I would really hear him say is, “Praise Jenny! Praise Jenny! Praise be to the highly artistically evolved Jenny! Oh the highly gifted Jenny! You bring balance to nature and have a great sense of style… You bring the “yin” to the “yang”… The “feng” to the “shui”… The “peanut” to the “butter”…”
So. Are you ready? Are you ready to see what happens when mad photography skillz and phenomenal poetry unite in perfect harmony? Are you sure you are ready? I mean, the peoples of the world might actually join as one – hand in hand due to this one piece of artistic genius I created… You may want to sit down for this:
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Now that I have reeled you in, may I ask your advice? Do these shells make my the butt of a perfect stranger look big? Or does my this butt of a perfect stranger make these shells look small?
Also, do you think I could pull off the whole “mermaid look” for Halloween?
Just trying to figure out my costume for when I walk downtown nabbin’ the good candy from the merchants before all the little people get it. *Note to the very kind, but obviously clueless candy-hander-outer people: Don’t hand out those little looks-just-like-a-strawberry wrapped candy! No one wants those! My Public wants Kit-Kats, Butterfingers, Reese’s peanut butter cups, Snickers… Give the people what they want!
**A post-publish edit… Candy people: All Adither wants Laffy Taffy and Skittles. I can’t have any until my braces come off – so Angie – you can have mine :)
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And that, My Public, is why one should never eat brownies for breakfast. Children spin and tumble and tear curtains off windows when they have brownies for breakfast… This blogger gal right here, at this URL, she spins too – tales of grandeur! She also tumbles… truth into a web of insanity! Oh, and she might literally tear curtains of her walls, but that’s only because she has a poor sense of balance.
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Keep up-to-date on the insane, the insightful, and the whatever…
All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence, then success is sure.
Mark Twain
I got to thinking about confidence today. As far as ignorance goes – I got that covered. That “thinking” all started as I crafted a fine bowl of tasty mashed potatoes for dinner. Only the very best for my family.
I revved up that hand mixer while wearing black pants that I intended to wear out in public later in the evening… to my son’s soccer practice, but in public nonetheless. Despite my best efforts I found I was flinging chunks of mashed taters all over the kitchen and the aforementioned black pants destined for public viewing. I assessed the situation and dug out my apron.
In the moments between donning my 10 year-old, under-utilized apron and returning to tater-flinging (largely due the fact that the bowl I chose was far too shallow… but she was a favorite – a very attractive, delightful porcelain white bowl with a chunky rim… like you care…) I became someone else. “Jenny, the Wonder Cook”…. or “Jenny, Tater Beater Extraordinaire”… or “Jenny, Master of Food Stuffs”… or “Jenny – Butch, Baker, Fabulous Mashed Potato Maker.”
Continue reading ‘Confidence “Props”’
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