Jaimie’s Nerdtastic Morning Automotive Adventure

Category: dribblings

I fixed my turn signal issue on the Jeep this morning. BOOSH.

I couldn’t find my Jeep fix-it book (where is that thing?) so I used the Alabama Virtual Library’s Auto Repair Reference Center. (I would link to that, but it won’t work unless your computer is in Alabama, some kind of geolocation limit thing.)

I ended up replacing three bulbs, two in the front and one in the back, as well as two screws and washers that were really rusted, because I’m anal-retentive that way. Everything cost me $3.05 and about 0ne hour of my time.

How satisfying it is to fix something yourself, for the price of McDonald’s food, and I didn’t even have to swear once.
Oh wait, yes I did. Once. When I couldn’t find a socket wrench, dad.

***

Also this morning I woke up with a sore throat and a stabbing ear ache. I’m pretty sure it was from walking in the park yesterday amongst the miles of goldenrod that is growing. Not that I have allergies or anything. So I’ve started back on Allegra for the allergies I don’t have.

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Walking

Category: dribblings

The humidity has been low recently so I thought I should get off my ass and take the dog for a walk. I’ve really missed my morning walks.

Leetle Brahther went with me to the park. When I got to the tree where I always see the two lizards I was bummed because I didn’t see either one of them. I wasn’t sure if maybe they had moved on or if something had eaten them. Cos maybe they just hang out during June and July and then book it in August, right? That could be a thing, I guess. But then! Lookit what I saw!

lizard16

A baby lizard on the Lizard Tree! Seeing it made me so happy. And on a tree nearby I saw the adult female.

What a cool treat, yeah?

 

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Quick thought:

Category: dribblings

With my turn signal still out I feel like people have forgotten the old school hand signals, so when I stick my left arm out the window to signal left they think I’m trying to give them a high-five or something.

Where did I put my Jeep book?

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Oh, positive.

Category: dribblings

The last two times I tried to give blood I was turned away, once in May and again on Monday. I feared the worst: Gypsy blood.

Actually I was just a bit anemic. But it is so disappointing to me to work up the courage to go donate and then get there, they jab my fingers, one on each hand, then tell me I can’t give. Because let me tell you, the finger pricking part is the part I hate the most. Not that the other part is a blast or anything. It’s just the finger tips are so sensitive, you know?

So there was one more blood drive in my area this week and I thought maybe I’d try one more time.  During the physical the lady pricked my finger and: no go. She asked if I wanted to try the other hand. I almost said no, but I thought what the heck? She sent a guy in to do the other one: KAPOW. I’m in.

This time I promised myself I WOULD NOT under ANY circumstances look at my arm, the tube full of blood, or the bag that was filling up with my blood. Also, I sipped on juice while I was donating instead of wating till I felt light-headed. It could not have gone smoother. I didn’t get grossed out, queasy, or faint. When it was over I hopped off the table like a pro and finished my juice while eating a Luna bar I had brought (gluten-free) cos I knew eating pretzels was right out.

I am O’po the Blood Queen. Suck it, minions.

I almost passed out after I got home. I loaded the dishwasher and took a baking dish across the street cos I thought mom would need it for dinner tonight. When I got inside I thought, “Why am I so out of breath?” Then I had the roaring sound in my ears that means You’re About to Hit It. So I laid down on the floor and thought, “Why didn’t you just go home and lay on the couch and take it easy like a normal person?”

DO NOT QUESTION O’PO THE BLOOD QUEEN, JAIMIE.

The blood drive was at the sheriff’s department. There was one deputy who fainted, and I felt so bad for him because everyone gave him a cup of fresh hell about it. They were so mean.

IN OTHER NEWS:

O’po the Blood Queen got new tires on her Jeep! Boosh. The old tires were 10 years old, and kinda bald. The new tires are bigger and wider and the Jeep looks a bit different. The day after I got new tires my left blinker stopped working. Dammit, Jeep, let’s not start any more bullshit, okay?

File this blog post under: First World Problems, Spoiled American Pigdog, and O’po the Blood Queen.

 

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For Fuck’s Sake, Les.

Category: dribblings

I met my pal Leslie probably in middle school, but I don’t remember talking to her until high school when we had a bajillion art classes together. She was so funny, sarcastic, loved Stevie Nicks, and when I wanted to join the soccer team she was all, “Okay, let’s do it.” Even though we were not sporty. Even though she smoked before and after practice. Even though all the running used to make her hurl. Even though we never got to play a single game.

Les showed me that you could wear black, stompy boots and still be feminine. You could have an older boyfriend and it wasn’t a big deal. You could skip the pep rally and be a better person for it.

If not for Les I’d never have heard of Tori Amos much less go see her 6 times, and get to shake her hand, and get her autograph. And I’d not have a clue about how damn cool Nine Inch Nails was.

I would have never eaten a brownie with drugs in it either. heh.

I wouldn’t have seen Pulp Fiction.

I always admired how brave she was in high school. She didn’t care if she got in trouble or not. I wanted to be like that. And when it came time for college, she went to a real college. She moved away. I was way too chicken to move away. After school, she came back the most creative person I know. I don’t know anyone as creative as Leslie. It seems like she’s willing to try anything: throw paint, melt things, take a picture of melting things, add a graphic element, cat sound, video, now step on it, tie some rope around it, suspend it, there! Art show!

She single handedly made the Gadsden Zombie Parade. How awesome is she?

I think I’ll always want to be as brave and creative as Les.

I love you, Les, you fucking reclusive shut-in. You paranoid ranter and raver. I fucking love you, you fucked-up bitch.

 

 

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here be dragons

Category: dribblings

dragonfly76
Blue Dasher, male.

I’ve not been walking at the park lately (try 4 weeks) because it is so damn hot out. But I did manage to get one good shot of a dragonfly last week. I cannot tell you why I’m so pleased with this picture. It took me forever to get it. Not because the bug was moving but because the sun was too bright and kept washing out the blue. I’d take a picture and check it and the guy’s tail would be white. I’d say a few swears and tweak the camera and do it all over again. The eyes are darker than I’d like, but at least I finally got his tail mostly right.

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re: LauraCatoe.com

Category: dribblings

re: LauraCatoe.com How did you Meet Your Best Friends?

Well, well, well. Turns out my BeFri hated me in first grade. I mean, I knew she hated me, she’d told me that before. It was a mutual hate, even. You see, while she was hating me for sitting next to Will Patterson, I was hating her because she would talk to the lunchroom lady. RUDE.
And maybe, if she had used her girl brain for thinking and not for things like “playing unicorns” (dumb) she would have realized that I sat next to Will Patterson BECAUSE THE TEACHER PUT US IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER. PATTERSON, PICKLE, GET IT? Will was very cute, but I had other guy problems in the first grade, namely Charles. Charles was a greaser kid (with a leather jacket)(!!) and I’m not making this up. He had greaser hair. He looked like the Fonze. And he was ALWAYS trying to kiss me. It was terrifying because I knew I’d get in trouble somehow. HE would grab/catch me outside and say, “I lub ya, honey.” and try to kiss me. I hated him more than I hated Laura.

Look, I know that sounds hilarious now, it is. But back then I was miserable. PLUS, there was a mean girl who used to hit me and pull my hair when the teacher wasn’t looking. Like, every day. And it’s not like I could tell the teacher, “Hey, Chuck is harassing me AND he has bad breath, meanwhile Psycho Girl ate my cherry chapstick and won’t stop hitting me with the goddamned checkers board!”
Because that would make me a Tattle-tale.

What I didn’t know, but Laura will tell you I did, is that she defaced my picture in the yearbook? What? Really? Buh, but I was so cute. I had the Wall O’ Bangs. A gappy smile. How could you, Laura?

Turns out, the lunchroom lady was her grandma, so, you know. That was a bad call on my part.

After 1st grade Laura went to a different school and I never thought about her again. That is until 7th grade when… well when is murky to me. I don’t remember meeting her at the beginning of the school year. It seems like maybe it was after the first 6 weeks anyway. We were in the lunchroom for P.E.? And I was talking to one of the two people I knew: Melody. And I thought she introduced us. Like, “Hey, let’s go talk to Laura.”

“Laura who?”

“Laura Bentley.”

“Who is that?”

“You know, Laura. She’s in all of our classes.”

“Really? I don’t know anyone in our classes.”

It should be noted I hated school so much in the 7th grade. I had been split up from the kids I knew the year before. They were in different classes and now I was stuck in the geek classes. I didn’t know the geeks. It sucked.

But I knew Mel and she knew Laura (and Sharon and April and Everyone else) because they were all in band together. So I went over to meet Mel’s new band nerd friends. They were pretty much awesome. And I think that for the rest of the school year I laughed more than I had ever laughed before.

I did not remember Laura from first grade. She brought that up later.

Laura was tall and had a leather jacket WITH FRINGE. I thought that was badass and that she probably rode a motorcycle. She did not. She rode the bus.

We’ve been pals since before the war.

It’s because of Laura that I met my other great pal, Liz. Her name was Elizabeth at the time. I don’t want to take credit for changing her name to Liz, but I’m pretty sure I was all, “Look, your name is too long. Can I call you Liz?” and she was all, “Okay.”

Because of Laura I took art class in high school. New Art Friends!

Also because of Laura I met Cookie Magoo!

Also because of Laura I finally moved out of my parents’ house! And I could probably blame the art degree on her too.

Also because of Laura I visited a crazy church. For ten years. Before I was finally able to call that crazy church My church.

And most importantly, because of Laura I met Jimmy Jones. He’s my favorite. (I saved the best for last.)(makes up for the art degree.)(sort of.)

Laura, your kids will be great friends and that is why they will have great friends.

 

 

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Jaimie’s True Crime Third Reich Summer Reading Adventure

Category: dribblings

“What have you been reading lately?”

Well, I just finished In the Garden of the Beasts by Erik Larson, which while I was reading referred to it as My Nazi Book, as in, “I’m going on break, I’ll be reading My Nazi Book if anyone needs me.” This inspired me to read a book called Dead Funny, which I’m slogging through now, about jokes and humor during Hitler’s Third Reich. And I’ve also started a book called Death in the City of Light which is a nonfiction about a serial killer in Nazi Occupied Paris.

Add to this stack Helter Skelter which I’ve put off reading for many years. It was pointed out to me yet again that how can I really be a fan of the True Crime genre if I’ve not yet read Helter Skelter? I see everyone’s point on this as I know there are certain “classics”* among the genre, it’s just that every five years there’s a new Manson Family anniversary complete with rehashing and documentaries, so reading the book seems redundant, but oh well, I’m reading it now.

I’m not proud of my love for true crime books; it’s morbid. But I do know I’m not the only one. It’s a popular genre, right? RIGHT? heh. A friend, who recently found out that I really dig these books (I don’t talk about my True Crime love very often), asked if I liked the books because I wanted to understand a serial killer’s mind.

“No,” I responded immediately. Because here’s the thing, the serial killers and they’re minds? Mostly all the same. They have a complete disregard for everyone but themselves and little to no impulse control. I think most of us read the genre to find out how it happens, maybe not how a killer is made, but how they are able to do it for however long they do it, was there a way to prevent it or catch the killer sooner, that kind of thing. I think also, deep down, because I’m a woman, maybe I read it so I won’t be a victim? Not that I go around thinking that I’m going to be the victim of murder, I mean, really, what are the odds of that? But I imagine that anyone who reads the genre often thinks, “What would I have done in that situation?”

Another True Crime Confession: I really only like books about serial killers or mass murderers. I’m not a fan of crimes of passion or the ones where moms kill their families. Those aren’t in my wheelhouse. But you give me a serial killer or a classic case like the Black Dahlia, and I’m in. Kidnappings, maybe? If it involves a cult, yes. If it involves Rev. Jim Jones? Double yes.

Look, I’m not proud. Don’t judge me. I grew up with Robert Stack telling me about Unsolved Mysteries. Every Wednesday night he begged me and the rest of America to call the tip line. I’m just doing my part. RIGHT?

 

*In Cold Blood, The Executioner’s Song, Helter Skelter, and I guess The Stranger Beside Me? Which I’ll admit, I haven’t read the whole thing. Fine, I’ll get on it. Just let me finish my Third Reich summer first.

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Tunes for Tots 2011

Category: dribblings

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Sex on Six Legs: Lessons on Life, Love, and Language from the Insect World by Marlene Zuk

Category: 50 Books

As an artist who finds herself outdoors, in nature, with a camera, quite a lot, I am aware that I have become more patient with and interested in insects and other buggy things. I’m especially interested in dragonflies and damselflies, but I find that bumping into a spider or beetle or bee can be nearly as fascinating. I even mentioned to my husband and some friends the other night that if I were rich and could go back to college I would somehow find a way to major in dragonflies. So when I saw that this book was coming out I thought that since I’m not going back to school anytime soon, I could still read about bugs.

I’m so glad I picked this book up. The title pretty much explains what the book is about. This book was very readable, any time there was science-y jargon in play the author would explain it right away. While most of the tests that were mentioned were on fruit flies, ants, and bees, Ms. Zuk also managed to add some other bugs into the mix like spiders and beetles and even dragonflies get a mention or two. I also enjoyed the vareity of subects that was discussed, while the book is mostly about reproduction, there are also chapters on language and homosexuality and other social buggy things.

Two problems I had with the book are that:
1. When the author would get really detailed about genes and genomes the subject was over my head and I didn’t care to pay close attention to those parts. I realize that’s on me and is not the fault of the author.

2. No pictures. C’mon, it’s a book about bugs. It would have been nice to have some cool close-ups of some bugs, is all.

Still it was a good read that has me even more interested in insects and other bugs. If you are a bug enthusiast or hobbyist, I think you’ll really enjoy the book. It’s worth it for the conversation starters alone.  If you’re not interested at all in bugs, you probably wouldn’t pick up the book anyway.

This book is available 08.02.2011

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