Polar Bears Against Palin

Polar Bears are just funny. Period.

http://polarbearsagainstpalin.wetpaint.com/

Pinky & the Brain

Apparently it’s National Unmarried and Single Americans Week and according to ABC television, it’s also National Stay at Home Week. As an unmarried and single person in America, I feel uniquely qualified to go out on a limb here and suggest that one reason I am still unmarried and single is because I celebrate National Stay at Home Week every week. ;)

Actually, I’m hardly ever home – I keep myself pretty busy. No, I’m not out painting the town, although I do attend the occasional happy hour. I could write a book about how people I’ve known my entire life suddenly act like they can’t hang out with me, the swingin’ single gal (ha!), because they are now married. It’s silly, but it happens. Bygones, I’m over it.

The thing that amazes me is the facts about single people. For example, did you know that there are 92 million single adults in the US? So why is it so hard to find a mate? NINETY TWO MILLION PEOPLE! Come on!

But more importantly, in 2005, there were 55.9 million households headed by unmarried adults. Ahem, that means we are now the majority of all households in the nation! I think it’s time for the rest of you to start paying attention to us! In the 2000 presidential election, 35 percent of voters were unmarried. I’m gonna make a prediction that in the 2008 presidential election, that number will be a lot higher. Hmm, maybe instead of trying to get a married woman or a married black man into the White House, we should have been focused on getting a single person elected!

I’m suddenly picturing Pinky and the Brain (who were single, by the way)…

Pinky: "Gee Brain, what do you want to do tonight?"

The Brain: "The same thing we do every night, Pinky—try to take over the world."

Muuuuuaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!

fOuRtEen!?!?!?

My nephew turned 14 today. Unbelievable. I’ve felt a little panicked all day, wondering if the next 14 years will fly by as quickly. Probably, but I know that Zachary will continue to bring me joy…and annoy me…all at the same time. I love this kid. Thank God he came into our lives. Happy Birthday, Zach!

Zach as a baby


Zach at 14 with his dad, being silly

Hootie's gone Country

Listening with my eyes closed...

Most of you reading this know that my dad passed away about a year and a half ago. He was a big John Denver fan – not a day went by in my childhood without hearing a John Denver song. Instead of hating the music, though, I actually LOVE John Denver – and I don’t care what anyone thinks. We even played a John Denver song at my dad’s funeral. It would have been wrong not to play one.

An overwhelming sense of peace washes over me now when I hear a John Denver song and I think of my dad and smile…and sing along! I guess that peace is what dad always felt. I get it now, dad.

So tonight I was searching YouTube and came across a fairly obscure JD song called, “Zachary and Jennifer.” This song always brings me to tears because I very vividly remember the first time I heard it. And because my name is Jennifer and my nephew’s name is Zachary…and it’s just a beautiful song.

My dad was a very spiritual man, but maybe not in the sense that most people think of. He would find deep meaning in music and in words – and he tried to share it with us from time to time. He often would make us sit down, close our eyes and stop talking. Then he would play a song and tell us, “Listen to the words. I mean, really listen to the words and what they’re saying.” Most of the time, especially as kids, we would roll our eyes or snicker. But the time he sat us down to listen to this song, we took it seriously.

It was almost 15 years ago – I had just found out that I was going to be an aunt. We were all so excited! I remember dad sitting us down at the old house on Maye Place. We all just looked at each other and from then on, the baby's name was Zachary. Or at least that’s how I remember it. He’s my only nephew and will be 14 on Wednesday. I know we’ve told Zach about the John Denver song, but I bet he doesn’t remember it. And I’m certain he doesn’t get it yet, but someday he will. He reminds me of my dad in little ways that I can’t quite explain yet.

I would give anything if I could sit and close my eyes and listen to John Denver again with my dad. Maybe I’ll do that now.

Have a nice day!

So today on my way to my nephew’s birthday party, I ran into a store to buy a gift bag to put his present in. I was running late and had no makeup on yet, so I’m sure I looked a little like this lady:



As I was leaving, this older gentleman shuffling in with a walker said, “Excuse me, ma’am.”

I turned around and he slowly asked me, “Did you know that part of your face…”

Ok, at this point, I was ready to put down my bag and purse and deck the guy – I was sure he was about to say something mean about my Rosacea-riddled, non-makeup covered face. But he continued with, “…is about to explode into a huge smile!”

I’m not really sure what I said to him, but I do remember that it did make me smile – in that kind of “Oh my God, this man is a weirdo,” uncomfortable sort of way. I think I said thank you and have a nice day or something, then quickly rushed out the door to my car, where I burst into laughter. “These sorts of things only happen to me,” I thought. “The weirdos always know how to find me.”

The closer I got to my brother’s house for the party, I realized that I really should smile more. I try to remember to smile while driving to work and in the shower. Sound weird, I know, but I’m trying to fight off the downward curvature of the corners of my lips that almost all women get…I hate that! Anyway, that man made me think. No matter how bad I might be feeling or how rushed I might be, from now on, I will pretend that I am Kate Hudson and will smile like this:

Have a nice day and just a reminder to all you parents out there…do not force your babies to smile!

Jesus really does want us to lose weight

I don't really see it, but apparently these women see Jesus in the ceiling at their weight loss clinic. Hmmm...

“My cat is stuck in the toilet”

Thankfully my cat, Bridget, has never gotten stuck in the toilet like the one in this story, but she has gotten herself into some pickles. Several years ago, while staying in a temporary business housing until my apartment was ready, Bridget got stuck in between the kitchen cabinets and the walls. I of course wasn’t supposed to have an animal in the temporary housing, so I had to sneak her in and play the TV all day long to muffle her meows. She’s part Siamese and very vocal, so this was no easy task. And when she was younger, she loved to climb and explore any nook or cranny she could find. Well, I guess she found a big enough hole to climb through. I don’t remember how I got her out of the wall, but thankfully, it didn’t involve destruction of anything or calling 911!

And then there was the time Bridget looked up at me from the floor while I was trying to fall asleep. Ok, she does that every night. And usually, she jumps onto the bed and I pet her for about two minutes, then she jumps off and goes to her little bed in the closet. But this night, her equilibrium must have been way off, because she jumped and smacked her little kitty head square onto the side of the mattress. I mean she really missed her mark! I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to make sure she was ok, but thankfully, she was.

My last story about Bridget is probably my favorite. Many years ago, my friend Cheree was cat sitting for me while I was out of town and would go check on Bridget every day. One day, she walked all over the house and could hear Bridget meowing, but couldn’t find her anywhere! She opened the oven and all the cabinets, thinking that maybe the cat had climbed into one of them. She said she could hear Bridget’s meows the loudest in the kitchen, so she stood there, puzzled for a few minutes. All of a sudden, Cheree felt something gently touch her head. She said she jumped out of her skin…she looked up and there, on top of the refrigerator, sat Bridget. I would have paid good money to be a fly on the wall watching that unfold. I’m positive Bridget planned the whole thing and got a good laugh out of it at Cheree’s expense.

Damn cat. But I love her – and for the record, yes, I would bust up my toilet too if she got stuck in it.

Sperm Bank Chatter

So me, my mom & my sister had dinner at Luby’s tonight. For some reason, the conversation turned to sperm banks and how relatively inexpensive it is to get “sperminated.” The next thing I know, this guy walks in…I kid you not:





Yep, that’s right. David Crosby. As in the legendary musician who famously provided the sperm donation for Melissa Etheridge and her then girlfriend Julie Cypher. So was it just a coincidence that David Crosby showed up just when we were talking about sperm donations? I think not! ;)

Sliced Bread

So after hearing social media and communications expert Shel Holtz speak today about incorporating social media into communications, I became keenly aware that technology could very quickly pass me by. Or has it already? ;) I think I’m doing ok – I’ve had a MySpace page for years and I now have a facebook page, I’m a Linked In member, I have a photobucket account, I text message, and just today, I became a twitterer! I’m so proud of myself!

My Grandpa D. lived to be 95 years old. I remember one day, when he was about 94, he asked me about CDs. He knew all about “Certificates of Deposit,” but these shiny round things that played music were new to him, so I explained them. We then started talking about the Internet. He just shook his head. He couldn’t fathom it. Grandpa was born in 1907 and in his lifetime had witnessed the invention of the assembly line (holy cow!), the aerosol can, the atomic bomb, the television, traffic lights, the fluorescent light bulb, the jet engine and literally, sliced bread!

My nephew, who is 14, recently asked me what kind of cell phone I had when I was his age. I just laughed. Apparently instead of “wear pajamas to school day,” they now have designated technology days for kids – days when they can bring their cells, iPods, etc. to school without getting in trouble. My nephew says he’s bored a lot. I can’t fathom that. I don’t ever remember being bored when I was his age. There was always something to do…and when I was his age, I didn’t have cable TV, an iPod, cell phone or even a computer!

You heard it here – I’m making a vow to never let technology pass me by. I will at the very least read about the latest trends! ☺

Welcome...and...Love that chicken at Popeye's

Welcome to Jennericgirl's first official blog...from my shiny new iMac! That's right, I finally updated from my 8 year old PC. I have some blogs saved from the last couple of years that I've posted in other places, like MySpace, so while I'm getting the blog started, I'll share some of them with you. Below is one of my favorites, "Love that chicken at Popeye's," which I wrote shortly after joining Weight Watchers. Enjoy!

Love that Chicken at Popeye’s…

So I decided to eat lunch at my desk today, thinking that I had a Smart Ones meal in the fridge here at work. Turns out I only had a package of Brussels sprouts, which were yummy, but I was still hungry. So about 1:30 I set out to get a nice, healthy, Weight Watchers points-friendly sandwich from Thundercloud. But my car turned in the direction of Popeye’s instead…I’d been craving chicken strips and gravy for three days, so I decided to compromise and order the “naked” strips and green beans.

As I pulled up to the board to order, I could hear chatter from inside the restaurant coming out of the intercom. Funny, I thought…they don’t know I can hear them. I grinned. Somebody was having a good old time! Finally, the very chatty lady asked me for my order. I was feeling guilty for deciding to “cheat” and eat fast food, but hey, I thought…it’s NAKED chicken! How many calories could be in NAKED chicken for goodness sake? Trust me, it took all the will power in my body to not order the regular breaded and fried chicken strips with the red beans and rice or mashed potatoes.

When I drove up to the window to pay, I was greeted by the friendly intercom lady, who was wearing a gold, bejeweled handkerchief around her hair and sported thick, black eyeliner and gold eye shadow. She greeted me with, “Girl, that is a pretty and colorful blouse!”

I smiled and said, “Thank you.”

As she handed me my drink – iced tea, no sugar by the way – she tells me, “Cause I’m your size, ya know….that pretty shirt would fit me too. Um hum. Sure would.”

I just keep smiling, feeling a little uncomfortable now. So there goes my dream of sneaking to the Popeye’s incognito, I thought. If no one I know sees me get the fast food, I will feel better about it, I reasoned. My guilt about cheating was really sinking in.

“Do you ever go to the east side?” overly-friendly intercom lady asks.

“What? Oh, um…yeah…sometimes,” I lied, shaking my head profusely.

She looks me up and down as if she knows full well I NEVER go to the east side and I bend forward, looking into the kitchen wondering why it’s taking so long to cook NAKED chicken.

“Simply Fashions. That’s where you need to go. That’s where the big girls shop. Me and you. Uh huh…we’re the same size, girl. That’s where I shop. You ever been there?

I shake my head no, suddenly feeling very fat. How badly do I really want these chicken strips?

“Over by Fiesta? You know where that is? Well, you gotta go to Simply Fashions. I got me some $15-16 shirts there for like $5. Big girls like us go in there and they come out looking sharp, I tell ya.”

Oh God, please don’t ask me where I got my outfit or how much I paid for it. Suddenly I’m feeling very privileged – and ashamed of it. And still fat.

“And then of course there’s Rainbows,” she looks at me, seeing if I knew about the store. “You ain’t been to Rainbows? Girl, you gotta go there. You gotta come over to the east side sometime! They got all sorts of stuff for big girls like us. I mean they got regular stuff too, but it’s all big girls that go to Rainbows, like me and you. Uh huh.” She smiled, revealing a shiny gold grill on her teeth.

Suddenly I’m feeling…well, I’m not sure what I was feeling. But now I wanted those damn chicken strips even more. And the biscuit I was going to give away or throw away and not eat? Forget it, I’m eating it.

Finally, she hands me the box of NAKED chicken strips and green beans and tells me something like, “Now you gotta come back again, girl.”

“Thanks…I will," I muttered, thinking to myself that I’ll never visit Popeye’s again. Ever.

So now I know why they call it Weight Watchers…Ok, I get it. Not supposed to eat fast food. Or maybe I just need to watch out for over-friendly intercom lady.