Perhaps you have noticed a few changes around here?

If not, that’s OK. There was one time I had asked my husband to get rid of his goater goatee, and he did and I didn’t notice for a whole day.

Speaking of the husband, he is trying to make Jenny On the Spot faster (the site not ME) and let’s just say technology hates me. And because this is MY site he is working on, technology hates him too… because of Me. And he’s smart. But I assert – inanimate objects and technology hate me and that hate will flow through me however directly or indirectly hitherhencetofore… my husband is suffering the consequences.

Also and additionally we have lots of sick and life pulling at us… and my creativity is…

*looks around*

I am not sure where it went. What I AM sure of is this – I got 3 hours of sleep last night. There were fevers and nightmares and vomit and an impressively bloody nose.

An aside: I often feel bad for having so many blankets around the house (Hoarders much?)… but then times like these arise and I am thankful for my hoarding nature. And even still — if we get one more vomit before I can get a few loads done, and it’s skin to mattress for every one of us.

And now about hair.

Why? because I noticed a theme… Sleep-deprived or no, you can’t deny there isn’t a freakish similarity going on here…

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I am one of the leaders at Memoreis in Motion. Swing by my post here to find out how I am kicking old school out the door…

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Hair and Such is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

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? In the pic above you see ME, Lisa and Lisa. A.K.A. Shizzle, Shizzle and True THAT!

One thing I do know is I was wearin’ some shoes that just about ended my career as a person who uses her feet for existing:

I know. Worth. It.

Aye… but the glitter. My friend Lisa made a spray glitter run for us.

Read: SHE bought the glitter.

Read: No glitter in the usual body glitter section.

Read: She found glitter spray in the craft aisle.

THE CRAFT AISLE.

This is us high on craft glitter spray fumes:

Minutes before we headed out for our evening of sparkly fun… we stepped outside to glitter-up.

Me as I spray glitter on Lisa: “Turn, turn, turn…. Oooooh! This is NICE glitter spray. I really like this kind. Wow! WOW!!! This is so sparkly!”

Lisa: “Do you think it smells funny?”

Me: “Whu? *pauses spraying* *begins spraying* NAAAAAAUWWWW!”

Lisa: interrupting her spin… “Are you SURE?”

Me: “Uh. Well. It does smell different. And I’ve never used this brand before…”

I look at can.

The directions said something like, “Good for use on METAL… PLASTIC… WOOD…”

*blinking*

She looked at me. I looked at her. We looked at we.

Snort fest. The whole, “StopstopstopI’mgonnapeeeeee” *snortsnortsnort* “conversation”…

I looked at Lisa. The level of her sparkle was impressive. She had gold glitter. Aphrodite demands gold. I said, “Guuuuurl. That be HAWT!”

I asked, “Does your skin feel funny?”

She: “Nnnnnnnooooooo.”

She: “You should do it.”

We reached for the can of my silver CRAFT glitter spray. And I spun beneath Lisa’s skilled spraying wave of poison silver glitter glory.

I don’t know what will happen because of our wild night of basking in the loveliness of crafting spray glitter. I do know this…

CRAFTING SPRAY GLITTER IS BY-FAR THE SUPERIOR BODY GLITTER. HANDS CANS DOWN.

My world has officially been rocked.

I find I am at a crossroads. Do I use spray intended for bodies, or do I use Awesome? You tell me. I cannot see clearly… *ahem* prolly because I still have poison in my eyes and lungs.

P.S. I have a little post up at Mom on the Spot. Finally, for all you locals… a little somethin’ about a local corn maze! And there is still one day left before I close up my $100 Visa gift card giveway (thanks to Febreze NOTICEables) and a week left for the $100 Visa gift card giveaway from Wonderbread! Hop on over for your chance to win!

andalsotodayisadayofmourningforitisthelastdayofmy36thyear…jsyk.

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Make Me Laugh Monday – Glitter Spray for Crafts Finds a Higher Calling is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

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…

A little bit of this: This is what I look like when I get a hankerin’ for a row of cake:

I look like this a lot.

A little bit of that: My leg. You know, one of the two that I need for “running”… My marathon is coming up Sunday. Leggy Leggerson is doing pretty well. A big thanks to my PT over there at the PAC… as of today, the marathon is a GO!

I plan on doing a little Twittering along the route if I don’t die as I see fit… If you are on the Twitter, you can stalk me follow me on Twitter: @jennyonthespot. If you are not on Twitter, can you imagine all the typos excitement you’ll be missing??? Real time coverage of a middle-aged woman’s attempt to complete her first marathon… All my whining and calling for help and whatnot… Chariots of Fire, anyone?

OK. I’m done. 

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A little bit of this, a little bit of that… is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

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.

One of those days you think you have 40 minutes to get you and 3 *ahem* cooperative children out the door, but really you only have 12 minues and 57 seconds.

One of those days you complete the run your little schedule tells you to but it feels like death every step. Why? As if a sweaty-miserable effort isn’t miserable enough — when you take off your shoes you can’t figure out if that painful bump you felt for 5 miles is a hard blister or a corn.

It’s one of those days where I wonder if my driver’s license should be temporarily revoked because I question my peripheral vision (ex: my keys in my hand)… One of those days where you know you shouldn’t bake becuase you might retrieve the hot pan without a oven mit… One of those days where anything mathy (ex: grocery shopping with coupons) could prove disastrous… Aaaanyway. One of those not-bad, but seemingly  not-quite-right days.

*sigh*

One of those days where even writing a conclusion is inconclusive. 

But there are a couple of bright spots. I get my hair done tonight. Uh-oh. Maybe I should keep my head away from scissors and peroxide. Hmmm. And the lovely Lindaloohoo at Where’s My Damn Answer reminisced me… and had these lovely things to say in her introduction for the most delightful Jenn of Me and Mom:

 …Jenny On The Spot (that alchoholic, bra wielding, foshizzle temptress we featured last week)…

*Sigh*. What girl doesn’t want to hear such lovely platitudes??? *more sighing* Just found the tide table. Everything looks fine. I just won’t be doing any math today. Nor will I chop veggies. Yeah, no knives either.

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Not "Bad" but Not Quite Right is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

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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Oh dear, Jenny's been thinking again… is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

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.

One boy wrote:

1. macbook
2. ipod
3. macbook air
4. at&t blackberry
5. iphone

Another boy wrote:

1. bike
2. shoes
3. a dog named Cocoa
4. my mom to come see us on Christmas
5. a better life

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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All I want for Christmas is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

“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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Deep Thought Thunday is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

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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All for a measly 20% off? is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

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…

I attended a small Christian high school. Read: no dancing. Read further: an environment almost exactly like Kevin Bacon’s character in Footloose! And in case you didn’t know… I am a huge fan of dancing… It has been a passion ever since I would blast the tunes of “My First Disco Album” in my backyard – on the record player and I practiced hot moves for the day Solid Gold might call and beg me to be one of their dancers. Um. I was like, 8.

I danced in my backyard A LOT. A-friggin-lot. You have no idea. I would dance behind the bed sheets my mom would hang out to dry. I thought no one could see me, so I would just cut loose. I’m sure my parents watched their chubby little girl out the window – just like I watch my kids when they aren’t looking…

I remember strapping on my roller skates and making routines to Toni Basil’s Mickey and Shoppin’ from A to Z (one of her lesser known songs, but I still think it’s the awesomest song – I wish I could find it. I wore the living heck out of that cassette tape). I also loved making routines with my baton… or pom-poms… Regardless of the props, one of my biggest childhood memories is of me bustin’ a move… making dance routines – in and out of roller skates. Yeah, I pretty much rocked the roller skates.

In third grade a group of 5 other girls and I made a routine to Mickey and performed it for the town and school talent show. Oh, being on stage… I was so scared, but I felt sooooooo alive… Guess what? I still know most of the routine. But I can’t tell you what year it was that Columbus sailed the ocean blue. Priorities, people.

A few years passed and before I knew it high school was upon me. My school never had dances, but the public school did. All my childhood years of rehearsing the hottest “Solid Gold Dancer” moves were wasted. I joined in with the mindless pack of girls and danced in a mobby circle while the boys never asked anyone to dance asked other girls to dance.

I joined the cheer team my freshman year in high school. Though we were not allowed to “dance” at my school, the cheerleaders were allowed to perform “routines”. Ahhh… finally. My moment. Did I mention I went to a small school? I had 2 seasons of cheering/routining before there weren’t enough boys at school to have a football team (to cheer for).

In college I went “academic” and passed on extra-curricular things — such as cheering, or any sports. Except for the 5 or 6 month period I was on a country line-dance exhibition team, but that was a summer-fling, if you will. I did go to 18 and over clubs and would dance off-campus (Baptist college), but I was insecure and never let myself fully bust a move. I wanted to be a cool chick at the club… kinda dancin’, but mostly lookin’ cool. I know now, that kind of behavior is stupid. 

Backing up… when the Sweet 16 rolled around, my parents stepped out of their comfort zone and allowed a dance party for me – along with my girlfriend Julia whose birthday was one week before mine. The rules were: 1) no slow dancing, and 2) no dim lighting. Agreed AAAAAND agreed. Deal!

Julia and I met a few days before our bash to finalize the details. That was the night the earth shifted the angle of it’s axis and my world was turned upside down. My daddy called, “Jenny, I have something to tell you…” I don’t remember his exact delivery, but, dudes – the party was still on ‘ceptin it would be going on without me.

You see… I went to a small Christian school. We invited teachers. We had plenty of chaperones. We also invited the pastor from the church my family attended at the time. And my dad happened to be an elder of that painfully small church. The little church went to the big church… yadda, yadda, yadda… and told mah Daddy: No party or you’ll have to step down. Fo shizzle. 

So. The party went on without me. My daddy still had to pay for the food and half the hall rental (the DJ was free!), but his daughter did not attend the party he paid for half of. And my Dad – he still feels guilty. I wish he didn’t because I have never been mad at him. I feel bad that he was put in such a hurtful place.

*****

Ya know, folks. I have been so blessed through all stages of life to have superior friends. Back then to present-day. And now there’s all my blogging friends… not just buddies, but women who I consider dear friends! We’ve never met (OK, I met a few of you at BlogHer ’08), but you know what I’m sayin’… The best of the best of the very best… Back then, no one taunted or teased me about the circumstances surrounding my absence… 

And as the years have accumulated, I can clearly see how – despite the unfortunate turn of events – that God had in store a great thing for me. Through a time that was fairly intense (16 and left-out on All. The. Fun.) I got to see the depth and breadth of wonderful friendship in my teen years.

A short time after “The Party” the student leadership team I served with went on a retreat. It was that weekend I was given far more than anything I could have planned. My team/friends planned a different party for me – around the campfire. I had been blindfolded. We played one of those “trust games” and of course, I was one of blindfold-ees. I just didn’t know my blindfold had been on quite a bit longer than EVERYONE else.

When the blindfold came off, my friends belted that birthday song and a pile of flaming candles lit a cake. They all signed a card – that I still have. I look back on that night and it’s hard for me to truly regret not going to that Sweet 16 party – because I got to experience the unique expression of my friend’s compassion and love around that campfire in the Fall of 1988.

*wipes tear*

*****

2008. Despite all that gushy crap… I still want that dance party. I don’t think there will be any slow dancing at this one either, but that’s because I think slow dancing is boring. The lights will be dim, but that’s because we’re gonna have a disco ball! The DJ will be a team effort – my hubs and 2 hubs of mah girlfriends. No hall rental this time – I have an unfinished basement – it’s ambience will give the party that “edgy, teen-angsty feel”…

Yeah. It’s all good.

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I am almost just like Kevin Bacon. is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

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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You can quote me on this, but link and trackback, cuz I'm all about watching my authority grow on Technorati. is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...