No really. FUN. Like, DOUBLE RAINBOW fun.

So intense…

I thought I was bein’ all creative and whatnot with my Alli (yes, MY Alli), MoreBeaute and the Fail Maker app…

And then… THIS Jenny… was shown the light.

It was a time in which true double rainbows were revealed. And I was left sitting… No. SNORTING. And thinking…

What does this mean???!!!

And I was schooled by my Alli.

And also pimped.

And I TOO, now own ‘stachetastic and Ransom.

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Do you belong to an ordinary family? Tell me about it!

Have you ever had a “diet fail”? Your comment could be worth $150!

Do you love weekend mornings? How about $100?

Are you a totally desperate mom? There’s an AWESOME  book up for grabs!

How about teaching kids ethics? Book! Book!

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Make We Laugh Monday – Fun With iPhone Photo Apps! is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

It all started innocently enough. A walk to the bathroom along a park sidewalk with my daughter.

As we walked, I teased my friend Katie a few feet away, “Maybe when I get back, I’ll go get us an iced coffee…” We had been hard at work, providing an “adult” presence at drama camp.

{Of course, I had to make this week about me.}

Her delight was clear as she replied, “If you do that — I will kiss YOU!” As Fairy Godmother of camp, she waved her wand and flipped her tutu.

I raised her caffeine-deprived flirtation with a little kick. Or did I throw my hip to the right… Inanycase — while walking… on the edge of a side walk… at a park… holding my daughter’s hand… I bit it.

The details are foggy as I think back. I just remember that my right foot missed the sidewalk. But rather caught a low-spot in the grass and all of me came tumbling down.

Tumbling.

The right ankle crackled… though did not snap or pop. Seems I am not a Rice Krispie after all. As I fell, one word raced through my head.

R A G N A R ! ! !

Other things crossed my mind too: no health insurance, no health insurance, PAIN, and maybe a curse word or two.

I laid there stunned. Then laughed. Then wimpered. Then groaned. I remember hitting the ground with my fist a number of times in an effort to make the pain less pain-y.

I realized I was in the sun and had to ROLL into the shade. After Katie stopped laughing, she got me an ice pack.

Yadda, yadda, yadda, great friends, the passing of an hour, and my huz… I got to the car. But the whole “put your arm over my shoulder” tactic revealed a bit of a hamstring pull in my other leg.

Awesome.

By the time I got home I decided it was just easier to crawl. My huz helped me to the porch and upon my insistence for all the hamstring pain… for the first time in my life… I crawled into my house. Straight to the couch.

A set of crutches from a friend, 2 mega-doses of Ibuprofen and 8 hours have given me hope. I just walked tenderly for a number of steps and am hopeful that I will run in a week.

It has also been said I am crazy.

I feel I need to add –  Katie and I never did get that coffee.

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The Big Fall of 2010 is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

Or a big one.

I think I’d really like to be a talk show host. Shocking, I know.

Rewind to 1990/1991. I was a senior in high school. I had big plans – college. But I really didn’t know what I wanted to do. But many people thought I was a teacher-type of gal.

In 1995 I graduated with a B.A. in Social Studies, and in 1996 I completed my 5th year… and received a handy-dandy teaching credential.

Oh, the power of suggestion.

Fast forward to today.

People keep saying I would make a great talk show host… People are so smart… I know I have lots of fun with cameras…

And it seems I have taken their words to heart, onaccountofthefact I totally just submitted a video application for Oprah’s search for a new TV talk show.

Did.

Totes.

You can see it and vote here… and you do not have to register, just vote…. everyday until June 26th. I only need, like 1.5 million votes to catch up with the leader(s). Totes do-able, because all of you are OF THE AWESOME and will tell all your friends and we will take over the world (or at least the talk-show circuit) TOGETHER!

Right? And just like this blog, my show would be about Me You. The power of the people! The We… changing the world, bringing laughter… drinking coffee andwhathaveyou.

I’d offer you some perk for voting for me, but that is of the ILLEGAL. Instead, I will bat my lashes, say pretty pweeeease… and will make sure if my dream comes true… I will TOTES make sure my people will be represented, yo.

In fact, leave a comment telling me, if We win (yes, WE)… if you were to be a guest on the show (you know I’d have some pull)… what would you like to share? Promote a cause? Share tips? Do you have a talent… can you juggle bubbles or somethin’?

Until we win though… Swing by BlogHer and read about what keeps me motivated to stay with my fitness routine… there’s a $1000 Visa gift card up for grabs there!

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The Confessional: Dream a Little Dream is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

Let me start from the beginning.

Age 5. Competitive swimming.

I blame that.

I started competing with my local summer swim club (Go Dolphins!) when I was 5… until I was 17.

The result?

GUNS

OR I may come from a long line of Irish arm wrestlers who drank from 100 pound steins. 2 birds… one stone – beer AND training. I got THOSE genes.

And that is probably also where I got my multi-tasking skillz. Just call me O’Jenny… And as a result I was challenged to an arm wresting match. By a man. In a bar.

Man: My friend over there will give me $20 if I beat you in arm wresting. If you let me win, I’ll give you half. AND I’ll buy you and your friends here a round.

Me: I don’t do things with guys for money.

Me: FURTHERMORE… I don’t think it’s classy for a classy lady like me to arm wrestle in a bar. And also… I DON’T throw fights.

You’d think that’d have done it. But my guns… they’re like the island of Lost… magnetic… confusing…

Man: C’mon. My friend…. *yammer, yammer, yammer*

Me: What is this all about? IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII know… This is about my Guns, isn’t it. It’s my arms. Dang it.

Man: You just have strong, sexy arms.

Me: I will crush you.

He probably would have beat me. He was an average sized average man of all averageness. Neither creepy nor skinny nor gaggy nor particularly unattractive as people go… nor a Hottie Hotterson (not that I look). Not unfit, but no evidence of rockage in the bicepian quadrant.  Just a man with probably 2.5 kids at home who probably golfs and goes to the Seattle Mariner’s games. And if I was his wife, I’d make sure he’d be sleeping in the doghouse without the cedar bed.

I also think I would have given that ‘ol boy a run for his money. It would not have been an easy win. I am strong. I am solid. But when it comes down to it…

1. I am classier than that…
2. I don’t throw fights (yeah, got some pride issues)…
3. And most importantly… I don’t do things with guys for money.
4. I take free money tho… Be you man, be you woman, be you corporate America.

And I want to thank my friend Christy and her sister Kim for havin’ my back. *fist bump* ladies.

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I Don't Do Things With Guys For Money is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

The problem with being a story teller and not getting out of the house is… finding stories.

So. Here I sit. Reminiscing about another day at home. A third day without a shower. A third day of painting and immersing myself into the world of Pandora. I did run to the store once. But I was stealthy. This *points to own filth* should not go out to there.

So. Instead? I take pictures of myself. In the same outfit third day in a row… Makes perfect sense to not go into public but to take pics and post them on the interwebz.

In my last post I went with an “accessory” theme [here]. This post, I go with a Ninja-painter theme.

I caught my 7 year old daughter looking through the pictures I will share with you here. Hers was a mix of laughter and confusion.

I think I am her hero of ninja and painting.

My friend Caroline on FB saw the above pic and accurately deduced: I bet those walls never saw you coming!

———

I look to the right, is that more tape?

But Ninja-painter-super-mom was short lived.

———

Suddenly I started channeling speed skating legend Apollo Anton Ohno!

Because… THAT made sense. Just like ANY of this makes sense.

———

Allz I know is I had some walls and paint to PWN…

I’m gonna get you suckahs!

———

I know. You don’t want to see an empty roller. You want to see painted walls.

Patience my friends. Awesome doesn’t just happen.

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More Painting, More Exhaustion, More Fumes, More Photos is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

Either I need to expose my kids to more things, or I need to continue harboring them from certifiable Awesome. I think I am going try to keep them from society as much as possible because, right now… they think I am THE SHIZZLE! I love this about me them.

For example, I was cutting a tag off a scarf. My Olivia (7) ooozed: Mom. You are SO creative!!!

Me: Why?

Olivia: Because you do things like cut off tags and stuff.

Joel (10): Yeah. You ARE creative, mom.

Me: Oh, and remember, you have also said I am really good at stirring. (my girls are so envious of my stirring skillz)

Olivia: Yeah. You are REALLY good at stirring.

I decided to let the kids have some of their own ego-build-time. I’m a giver. I asked, “How are you guys creative? I mean I know how you are creative, but in what ways do you think YOU are creative?”

Olivia (7): I can knit. You can’t knit. I can teach you!

Joel (10): Video games and technology. I helped my teacher with the computer yesterday. She wanted to put words on a picture… but it didn’t work.

Lucy (4): I am good at Lego building! I can build stairs and houses and people…

Dang it. I hate competition. I figure I won’t teach them how to stir. Then I will at least have something.

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Good at Stirring and Removing Tags and Stuff is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

About 7 months ago I showcased my custom-blinged swine flu masks in a video:

I wish I had another video to share. Alas, I do not. I know this is disappointing and I promise I will not make a habit of such things *feels self-important*. I do have a couple of pictures of new masks… one is a re-make of the famous and favorite army men mask that my husband made himself under my critical watchful creative eye(s)… and the other, well just another brilliant maniacal creation of my mind. We wore these on Halloween.

Here’s my husband’s interpretation of the army men mask:

Ain’t no fool swine flu gettin’ all up in theh, yo.

This next one was more genius than I gave myself credit for. In my mind, I envisioned the swine flu virus just being scared by all the sharp points on the following mask:

What I didn’t know, until I started walking along the streets, meetin’ mah public where they at… I didn’t anticipate that no one would want to come near me.

No one.

Within the first two minutes of bein’ out in my public, one woman… eyes opened wide in horror… saw me… backed away and yelped, “OH MY GAH! WHAT ISssss THAT?”

I get that a lot.

For the rest of my trick-or-treating evening I was left physically alone. No hugs. No kisses. No hand shakes… not even a high five. No slobbery babies… If you are a recluse – I suggest ordering one of these masks. There is no need to live on a secluded island anymore. A push-pin swine flu mask is all you need to attain the isolation you crave and deserve.

Conclusion: Based on my scientific research, of all the masks I have ever created – I believe this mask to be the most effective at keeping the germies away. Success!

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Swine Flu Mask Reprise is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

So. I have this friend. Darcy. A personal trainer. A personal trainer who happens to be my friend who has been cruel kind enough to show me how to properly and effectively work mah boday. She is into “functional training”, and I’m all, “Heh… she said “function”…

Lemme tell ya, the first time she functionally beat the living crap out of me werked her functional magic… I spent lots of time face to rubber with the butt of a Bosu ball. She is a HUGE fan of the bosu ball, thusandtherefore, I have now sucked face with a great number of Bosu balls. Lucky Bosus. I’m kidding.

*not me* but… been there done that.

Wanna cookie?

I digress….

I went to her gym today so she could educate me, and a mere 12 hours later… mah butt HURTS. OH. MY. HEAVENLY. FUNTIONISMS. Ijustmightdie.

She’s good. She’s reaaaaaal good. *functionally pops 4 Ibuprofen*

She taught me all kinds of painful fun new moves.

Again — *not me*

I was unable to take pictures of me during my punishment training. Partly due to shame, but mostly due to flexibility issues. I mean, you do remember the “self-photography incident of Summer 2009″… don’t you?

Not so much pregnant, but try telling my shadow that, yo. Stupid purse.

Since I did not take any pictures of me on miscellaneous torture machines Darcy training me… I drew a few. To illustrate.

Pardon the quality. My scanner is broken, so I took pictures of my drawrings with Photo Booth on my Mac. Nothing quite like ingenuity, ehh?

Here are a few illustrations on the core training portion of our session…

First: The Plank…

I had this actual look on my face, and matching feeling in my heart.

Next: Leg somethings…

I actually am not sure she had me do this one. But my body feels like I did. Childbirth, anyone?

Now, I am not a fan of the gym-grunter-type-people. In fact, I make fun of The Grunters. I mean, c’mon. Seriously?

OH. But. Today.

I grunted. It’s all your fault Darcy! And now I have a strange craving for protein powder… Wait. No. Nevermind…

Stinkers. How’d they get in this post?

Then she made me do THIS with my body:

Grunting? No, I think I went straight to “HOWLING”.

Then she wanted me to do this cute move where I hopped (read: BALANCE SKILLZ) onto the round side of the Bosu ball. She looked like this:

I looked like this:

This is not to scale. My legs are not actually that long, but… you get the picture.

O.K. I didn’t actually FALL. But I felt like falling. That is what my brain was telling my body would happen. That is what THE LAW OF GRAVITY demands. Someday… someday…

At one point, she had me STAND on the upside down side (flat) of the BOSU, with 2 ten pound weights.

You are breathing in a paper bag for me, aren’t you? I started laughing so hard I had to hold onto Darcy so as not to fall… I said, “I’m sorry. I need to hold onto you until I get my laughing out.”

Typical. I exhaust myself sometimes.

My advice – do not stand on an upside down Bosu ball unless you are depressed.

In an effort to help me refocus, Darcy had to encourage me with this line, “Think of something sad.”

I thought about my muffin top.

Darcy then introduced me to the TRX. I think that stands for The Real Xhell… or Terrible Real Xcruciatingawfulness.

Reminds me of an institution in which I once resided.

You have no idea. She made me do this:

I. Know. On top of it all… to gain access to the veritable motherlode of TRXs, one had to be taken to the Inner Sanctum — The Training Room. I was Neo… and Darcy was my Morpheus….

Darcy is the one on the left. I am right next to her… the one on the right is another victim trainee. It is in this room the real damage training gets done. Shhh… it’s a secret… BTW, Darcy is not yelling at me… she is laughing at me. We got each other’s back like that.

And that, my friends is why… when I wake up in a few short hours to go run 4 miles… I will be channeling the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Working out is so hawt.

And Darcy really is all kinds of awesome. No matter how crazy she is:) She’s smart too. And we share clothes. She has cute clothes. I go through this torture so I can keep wearing her clothes

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My Butt Hurts, You Don't Even Know. is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

This is loosely titled. I am writing with two glasses of wine pulsing through my veins, and am not feeling….

Whu… Did someone say cookies? No. Maybe I heard, “Warm blanket and sleepy-sleepy.” 

Huh?

Aaaaaanywho. The following video is an exercise in utter self-obsessionismness. Shshjshaj. And such. It’s all about me. My face, my shoes, my coffee, my dancing… over the last year — May to May. May? I dunno, just go with it… These are all (mostly) pics I took of myself or extensions of myself with either my iPhone or computer camera. 

I was inspired. I saw Julia Roy’s year in review video, and I was all, “Hey! I have pictures!” And then I was all, “MEOW! MEOW” Cuz I’m a copy cat. And then I was all, “She’s adorable, and her glasses rock!” And then I was all, “I may be no Julia Roy, but… yeah… I’m no Julia Roy.”

*2 glasses. I should be under a rug*

Then I had to decide on a song to make my pictures dance to. I decided against Sexy Back by Justin Timberlake because I felt that would be too vain. So, after much consideration I decided on Right Said Fred’s I’m Too Sexy. See? That song is SO much less assuming. And now, I present to you, more of Me. I’m going to regret this post in the morning, aren’t I?…

A Year of Self Portraits: Jennyonthespot from Jenny Ingram on Vimeo.

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Let's call this, "A Year in Review" is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...

Are YOU wearing a mask to help lower your risk of contracting the newest ultra-bug… The Swine Flu? Are you?

It’s hard isn’t it. Putting on a mask… Not only are they uncomfortable, but they aren’t very cute either. I have yet to see one eye a mask brings out the color of. It’s true. Ponder that. 

This has REALLY bothered me. But it bothers me no more. I have designed and created – with mine own 2 hands – 10 (yes you heard me)… TEN unique and may I say DESIRABLE Swine Flu mask designs. I decided the best way to share them with you would be via vlog…

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Swine Flu Masks is a post from: Jenny On the Spot * This is what I do...