11.24.05

Category: dribblings

happy! thanksgiving! okay?! okay!

last night was expensive and it kinda sucked. i had a goodish time. the first place we went to was the CCA ($10 per ticket) to see a band called the Blueground Undergrass. they say they’re “hick hop”. we kinda thought they would be funny and do bluegrass covers of R&B tunes. well. they don’t. they were more like the Grateful Dead. and that’s not a bad thing. but that’s not what we wanted to see.

ever.

but that’s just us. i mean, “hick hop”? LIARS! i know that TONS of people love the Dead, but we don’t. the songs all have the same tempo and just drone on and on and it’s only fun for the band and the drunk girl in the flowie skirt who dances with her beer bottle.

the guitarist was cute though. he looked JUST LIKE laura’s TV boyfriend, whom i cannot find a picture of to link to at the moment. HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE, INTERNET?

speaking of beer. while there i got to try a beer i’ve never heard of but now want to find. it’s called Blue Moon and it’s from Belgium. it’s good and kinda sweet. usually imports are too beery for me (now that i’ve switched to my water beer, Mich Ultra) and too expensive. but this stuff was reasonable and delicious. now if i can just locate some more…

***

when we were bored of that we then went to The Nut. this was, as you might know, a big mistake. i was not aware of how mistakey it would be. it was a $10 cover charge…on a wednesday night. mhuh? didn’t my dad and i used to go there every wednesday? and wasn’t cover like, $4? and didn’t they have decent blues bands?

well, not on this hell night. nay.

the band was called Fly by Radio. and THEY SUCKED. they were an ’80s cover band. sounds like fun. but in reality…it’s not fun. because it = no talent. the bass player was the cheesiest cheese since cheese came to cheesetown. he was shirtless. long blonde hair and had a glitter headband.

i paid $10 human dollars to see a glam rock band?

i would’ve rather given the ten to a crackhead.

 

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11.16.05

Category: dribblings

i’m listening to my new Fiona Apple CD a la Tami Sparks as i type this trash. it’s really cool. it reminds me of Poe. not the author.

today i got my hair cut and dyed (just brown. nothing fun. well, covering up my grey is kinda fun. i guess.) and like everyone else who goes to a place to get their hair cut, the stylist styled my hair before i left. i have very short hair so the most you can do is spike it up and out and swoop and spike. so when i left i had rock n roll hair. in my paint coveralls. i had to go back to work.

i didn’t want to put my work hat back on because last time i did that after she styled my hair it sounded like velcro when i took off my hat. i guess the hair product is like glue really.

so this time i left it off since when i went back to work i wasn’t going to be painting but instead i was dad’s plumbing assistant at the Holy House.

the old people didn’t recognize me.

and then when they did it was like i had 200 grandma’s oohing and ahhing and “look how pretty she is!” and “you have such darling hair.” and so on and so on. i thanked them because that’s what you do. but at one point i said, “you ladies are making me blush.” ‘cos they wouldn’t stop, and the guy at the front desk was doubled over laughing at me. because i’m sure it looked crazy.

***

overheard at work:
“well, i heard she goes to those wet t-shirt contests.”
“really?”
“and you know what those are.”

the reason that’s so funny is that it was two old, southern biddies talking. so it sounded like “way-it tay-shut cahntayests”.

***

at the hair salon this old lady breezes in with a friend. she sits down and the friend sits down and the lady never stops talking, and i swear it was like Phyllis Diller had just walked in. she immediately tells us that she just came from her doctor, a lady doctor, which i thought meant that her doctor was a female, but no, she meant the gynecologist, and she proceeded to tell us bits of THAT adventure.
“i swear i just walked in and had one leg out of my pants and panties and she did it and that was that. she’s from wis-CAAAN-sin. i showed her a mole that was on my…well, a personal place…and she said that honey, i can take that off right now, and she did! i love her!”

did i laugh out loud?

yes. we all did. it couldn’t be helped. besides, she’s Phyllis Diller, she expects a laugh.

her friend told her she should get her hair cut short and spikey. Ms. Diller replied with, “ROBERTA! you should CUT. YOUR. THROAT. for saying that!”

“skkknt.”

“people would say i was a LESBIAN! and people talk about me enough as it is! oh not like i care. my best friend mark is gay. i love him. i think everyone should have a gay best friend. they are so sweet! and lesbians are okay too. anyone who says otherwise can go to hell.”

“skknnt!”

then they started talking about sex and she said to the stylist, “you sound like my first ex-husband, wait…yeah the first one, he wouldn’t leave me alone! he was a sex MANIAC! i used to HATE sex because of him!”

i was rolling.

then of course came talk about The Change.

“honey, i wouldn’t know about The Change; i was drunk at the time.”

i know that it’s poor taste to laugh at alcoholism, but it was impossible not to laugh.

as soon as she left i said to my stylist, “i am so glad i came to get my hair cut today.”
“isn’t she great?”
“YES! i want to go places with her! i just want to sit and listen to everything she says!”
“i know! she’s been my most loyal customer.”
“no kidding?”
“like clockwork she comes in here every 3 weeks.”
“she’s fantastic. i want all my appointments when she’s here.”

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11.15.05

Category: dribblings

okay i’m sorry, but Chili Con Cagney and Lacey is cracking me up. i hate it when i laugh at my own joke. it’s so uncool. i’m leaving it up there.

i think that laura and i (sometimes liz, but not so much anymore since she’s become a working girl/stoodent) are the Lucy and Ethel of volunteer work.

guess who’s Ethel?

not the tall one.

anyhoo. laura asked me to help her out with some kind of Harry Potter thing for kids that the paper and some other companies were sponsoring. she was in charge of helping kids make origami owls. she knows i’m an origami master and so she asked and i said, “oh all right.” and she said that she was going to wear a witch hat and so she’d be some kind of Hogwart Professor and since i already have a HP outfit from some halloweens ago that i should wear that.

oh good.

so then she said that i didn’t have to dress up or even help if i didn’t want to and i said that you never leave a man behind. because that’s our thing. everyone knows a good soldier never leaves a man behind. there’s a hilarious story behind this, but i’ll let laura tell it.

SO. tonight was the big event and lemme just say, origami owls (hell, origami anything) are way too complicated for kids. so we ended up making them and let the kids decorate them. when we were finished our hands were sore and dry.

it was a pretty great turn out and i think all the kids had a great time. there was a magician. and they had HP video games you could play and they showed all three of the movies on three big screens. how cool is that?

i left around 7:30pm, and i was going home to eat food. but then i thought that since tonight was Bowling Night and i had only missed 30 minutes of it that maybe i should swing by and see everyone and maybe squeeze in one game, if i don’t go home and eat that is.

but see, i was still in my HP outfit.

so it’s either go home and eat.

or walk into the bowling alley dressed as Harry Potter.

i’m sure you know what i chose.

when i walked in there was a little girl coming out of the game room and she was all, “GASP!” and her face lit up and i smiled because she was so shocked and cute. and then i turned the corner and hear, “hahahaha jaimie! you lose a bet or something?”

i only bowled an 87 or something lame like that. i think it’s ‘cos i only drank Dr Pepper. i didn’t want to drink the beer on an empty stomach. bowling alley beer is awesome.

***

the other day Kelly Fish made this candy stuff called Tree Bark. it’s saltines and chocolate and other secret ingredients and it is so good. kelly, you should make some more of that stuff. or maybe go and post the recipe to the message board. because a piece of that stuff is the perfect last bite of a meal.

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11.14.05

Category: dribblings

today i painted a bathroom…dark brown. i know.
but.
it looks fabulous. only debbie could pick brown and make it look like it’s the most delicious color that could go on those walls. magic.
i’m not kidding. it looks fantastic. it might help that there’s tons of stone tile all over the place, so don’t go painting your bathroom brown and expect it to look like anything other than crap.

i had meatloaf for lunch and i burped it up all day. ew. i love meatloaf. but i don’t like burping meat flavors.

laura and her friend quilla work at the newspaper. and they are in charge (i guess?) of making up these “or” questions for this new supplement to the paper. questions like, the only one i can remember is “google or yahoo” and you pick one, see? it’s like a “man on the street” interview only it’s very short. so i talked to laura yesterday and she was all, “we need another question.” so itried to help but who knows? it was short notice.
but after the phone call i thought of some other ones:

burial or cremation?
incredible hulk or the thing?
fries in the Frosty or no fries in the Frosty?
little bit country or little bit rocknroll?
beef jerky?
grits- sugar or salt?
black ink or blue ink?
mickey mouse or bugs bunny?
frozen or on the rocks?

you’re welcome, girls.

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11.12.05

Category: dribblings

there is a giant oak tree in my yard, it might be the biggest one in gadsden, at the least the second biggest. i love the tree and i hate the tree. it’s so big it’s top branches stretch out farther than you think. and so, it constantly drops it’s payloads across the expanse of my whole property. i’m talking acorns here. acorns falling from the tops of the giant oak tree. falling at a rate of 9.8 meters per second squared. which i think if i did the math correctly that’s….95,000 mph.

when the acorns hit the grill or my jeep it makes a metallic CLANK sound. when they hit the house it sounds like birds are falling from the sky. when they hit the pond they go SPLOOSH!

i need a helmet just to go check the mail.

and i won’t even bother complaining about the 7 kagillion leaves. rake blog = boring.

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11.08.05

Category: dribblings

while talking with my Conversation Partner (from thailand) today she tells me that when she told people she was going to live and go to school in alabama they would all say, “alabama? but…why? it’s no good.” and she asked me why it is that everyone she’s ever met in her travels has scoffed at alabama. i told her that they probably had
A. never been to alabama or
B. had been to alabama

hee. i kid.

but she tells me she loves it here and i told her that yes, most people find it pleasant. it’s not all like the dukes of hazzard. we’re not all hillbillies.

are we?

anyway she said that before when she would hear ‘sweet home alabama’ that she really liked it, but now that she lives here she feels extra proud when she hears that song. i told her that i sometimes feel that way too, and then i asked her where she heard that song. and she was all, “everyone plays it.” and i was all, “you mean like, when you were in canada?” and she was all, “yes of course, i hear it everywhere.”
“everywhere?”
“oh yes. it’s popular.”
“right, but i mean, they don’t play it in thailand, right?”
“oh yes! that is where i first heard it!”
“no!”
“yes!”
“no way!”
“hahahaha yes!”
she thought my disbelief was hilarious.

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12.08.05

Category: dribblings

do you ever have those days where you know that God is messing with you? where you know that he’s put you in a situation so he can laugh his mighty ass off? hm?
oh, it’s just me?

so i’m painting on the 8th floor of the holy house today. and dad gets paged and has to leave. then this old lady comes out of her room and she’s knocking on someone else’s door, but the other person isn’t home. so i peek around the corner and i see this old lady and she’s in her silk PJs. so i say, in my cheerful help voice, “hi! do you need some help?”
and the lady, she stands in front of me and nods her head. she says nothing.
“um, well. would you like me to help you?”
she nods again.
i would get the deaf mute.
so we get to her door and she says, “i need you to fasten something for me.”
she can speak! she’s healed! praise!
well, she was still deaf.

anyway, i get in her room and her boyfriend is in there. he is one of the few people at that place that i do not like. he’s a mean ol’ alkie. well, he’s sitting in there in his undershirt and he’s holding a necklace around his neck. see, it’s his neckalce that needs fastening.

so at first i’m thinking, oh for the love, did they just have sex? God, this is not cool. viagra is the devil i just know it.

but see, there’s something else about the guy i haven’t mentioned. he’s a darth vader. he’s got one of those electric voice boxes that he has to hold to his throat. he’s deaf as a post, and he has “singing” hearing aids. (you should hear them talk. she can’t hear a single robotic word he says, and he couldn’t hear a plane crash if it happened right next to him.) when he walks he takes very small steps and he wears those cheesey ankle boots. so it sounds like 19 people just got off the elevator and are coming around the corner.

oh, and one word: tracheostomy.

right, so it’s his necklace, remember? and he’s holding it out so i can clasp it…in the front. not on the back of his neck, but in THE FRONT. you know, THE FRONT? IT’S RIGHT NEXT TO HIS GAPING NECK HOLE. i try to be nonchalant about the sitch as i approach the guy, i mean, i don’t want to be rude or anything. so it’s like, be cool jaimie, be cool. just latch it and go. you can freak out later. so i say, all smiley, “so you need some help fastening your neckhole, huh? necklace!”

as i fiddled with the clasp i was all, don’t look at the neckhole. don’t look at the neckhole. don’t look at th- IT’S CRUSTY! A CRUSTY, SCABBY NECKHOLE! I’M JUST A HOUSE PAINTER! HOW DO THESE THINGS HAPPEN TO ME?! and i was thinking about how jealous chris wood would be. and i was also thinking maybe he needed to put a salve on it, so it wouldn’t look so crusty.

i clasped it and was considered a hero for doing so, and as i left i said, “have a good stoma. day! have a good day.”
what a day. for the rest of the day when dad would complain about something i would whisper, “stoma!” loudly.

i hope i didn’t offend anyone with a neckhole. i know that they are very cool things that help you breathe better. i’ve just never had to er, look right at one or have my fingers so close to one. i’m thinking it’s something you just have to get used to seeing. but now i have questions. mostly, do you have to cap it off when you drink something?

NECKHOLE.

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11.05.05

Category: dribblings

i’m a carly simon fan, and yes, i know, i’ve read, she’s a spoiled bitch. i don’t care, it’s not like i have to spend time with her. she’s finally stopped calling. talk about someone who can’t take a hint.
anyway. there’s one song of hers that i love because it’s got a great beat and it’s just a fun sounding song. but.
BUT.
i HATE the lyrics. hate ’em. the song is jesse. and i hate it ‘cos it’s all, “jesse, you’re a jerk and i’ll never waste my time on you. oh, but hey, let’s get together later, okay? just don’t tell my friends ‘cos they won’t understand. ps. i washed the sheets.”

and on one hand i’m all, “carly, carly, carly. DON’T do this! he’s gonna break your heart! again!” and on the other, more judgemental hand i’m all, “you know better, you spoiled bitch. you deserve whatever you get!”

and trust me, the fact that i give serious, time consuming thought to lyrics from a carly simon song shames me more than i can say.
because it’s not like she’s going to listen to me anyway.

HE’S A SNAKE, CARLY, YOU BITCH! A SNAKE!

futile.

***

but then in the mid ’80s she came out with a song called All I Want is You. and i like to think that the dude in the song is Jesse from the other song. and so she’s saying, “i don’t care what everyone else thinks. i know you’re not a great guy, but you’re not boring either. plus, you’ve got a huge penis.” and i guess if carly is happy with her mandingo jerkhole, then who am i to judge?

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The One About Stevie Wonder

Category: weekleez

Disclaimer: I apologize to God and Stevie Wonder for the blasphemy herein. But all you U2 fans can go soak your head.

hi kids,

iTunes has a thing where you can buy every song Stevie Wonder ever recorded (i think there’s over 500 songs. it’s 32 CDs.) and it’s ONLY $189 (so see, even if you could miraculously buy those CDs for $10 a piece that’s $320. so $189 is SUCH A DEAL THAT MY JEW SENSES ARE TINGLING.), and i think i peed a little when i saw it. i’m trying to justify buying it and i really can’t. i want it i want it i want it i want it (but you caaaaaaaaan’t have it.)

i remember that they did that with U2 didn’t they? offer like, all their songs for one price? and i remember thinking at the time what a waste of actual money and only a doosh would buy something so stupid. this is what happens when you’re a judging judgehole. you become the doosh.

see? i can learn lessons. i’m not a complete moron. Read more

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11.04.05

Category: dribblings

on the first Thursday of every month there’s a group that meets at the vineyard church building called the Order of St. Luke. sometimes, if i’m able to get off work a bit early, i go to the meeting. it is very strange to me, not because of what they talk about so much, but more because i don’t really know most of the people and also the majority of the people are quite old. and it’s not like i’m all, “old people are lame!” you know i’m not about that. i love old people. i work with old people. i think they’re amazingly cool.

but these St. Luke’s old people are kinda different. i can’t explain it. it’s like they’re old school and yet, they run a healing ministry. they’re really open minded about that kind of thing, and most old people aren’t. well, most (all) old people at my church aren’t. another way they blow me away is that they all know so much scripture. they can all spout off complete verses and Bible stories that i’ve never even heard of. the people are so sweet and seem so wise and quietly gentle. when they pray, they just pray. they don’t get excited or shout or raise their voices, they just…speak.

months ago, when i first attended the meeting they wanted to know about my brother. i guess Mrs. Finlayson and Florrie had told them about my brother. and so they asked if they could pray for my brother. well. i mean. whoa. let’s hold on a minute. i don’t know these people, right? but i thought, well okay jaimie, why are you even at this meeting? i mean, would it be such a bad idea to let the HEALING MINISTRY people PRAY for your brother?
SCANDAL!
so i said that sure, they could pray for him.

then they asked ME to sit in a chair so they could pray for justin. what?! oh man. i know. and yes, they touched me. i guess, “laid hands on me” would be the more proper term. i’m not sure how it works where you pray for someone while laying hands on someone else, but i’ve seen it done before so it wasn’t completely foreign.

the next time i went they wanted to pray for justin again. and so i sat in the chair and they touched me and prayed again. this time (i missed the next two meetings ‘cos i was in anniston) they didn’t pray for justin but they all remembered me (well, not my name. in fact, when they prayed for me they kept calling ME justin and praying for my brother, jaimie. it was hard not to chuckle and be all, “aw, sweet old people, i love you.”) and they all asked how my brother was doing. and i was really glad they asked because i got to tell them that he was doing great.

i can’t remember where i was going with this. i think it was mainly to mention that it’s strange to me that i go to those meetings in the first place seeing as how none of my friends go to it (and i don’t mean that Florrie and Mrs. Finlayson aren’t my friends. they are my friends, i just mean that laura, liz, cookie etc. don’t go to these meetings.) and i definetly feel weird about it ‘cos i stand out like a sore thumb. the second thing is their quiet, simple authority that they exude. the third thing is i’m not even interested in joining the order. there is nothing in my heart saying, “yes! join the healing club! dedicate time to learning and reading their books and go out and heal people!” the only thing i hear is, “go listen to the old people. listen to their stories. appreciate them, they are my servants.”

what is with all the religion lately? i bet you wish it was Cat Blog or Dog Blog. or something light and fluffy. i know i do. here, i’ll tell you somthing funny so’s to lighten this thing up. remember in september i told you guys about the Chicken Thighs of Eternal Peril? and remember the part where dad was all, “what kind of pie did you make us?” and mom replied with, “fuck you.“? well. that has started a new thing around mom and dad’s house. Fuck You Pie. that’s what we call pie now, usually just the chocolate pie gets that moniker because that’s usually the pie that dad bugs mom with. see, he’ll say something like, “and mom made a chocolate pie for desert,” during dinner. when actually, mom hasn’t made a pie at all and we all know it. he just does it because he’s an ass and so are we ‘cos we laugh every time. but now, thanks to the Chicken Thigh Story, when you eat at mom and dad’s house you might hear things like, “hey, did you make a Fuck You Pie?” or “is there any Fuck You Pie left?” and even “i got your Fuck You Pie right here!”

dinner at my parents’ house is an amazing thing.

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