Merry Christmas to All!

Things I Adore, Things I Abhor

Wombat reminded me that I haven't done this post in awhile. Not that she wanted to read it, she just wanted to fancy it up and sell it over on her blog. Good on her.

5 Things I Adore:

• Maraschino cherries. Left over from the infamous Oh Henry! bars I made for work. Adding a whole new dimension to the crappy Absolut New Orleans.


• Christmas picture cards (or Christmas cards with pictures). Why do we only share once a year? Warning! Boom is thinking about sending out a summer picture. He's all about busting up tradition.


• Pete McCarthy. Author of McCarthy's Bar and The Road to McCarthy. If you can't travel, hitch a ride with Pete. The search for his Irishness within his English self reminds me of my Canadian/American issues and he is funny.


• Having 2 vacation days left. I will work no more Mondays until 2008. The Man can suck it.


• Friends who listen. Thanks for listening to me for the past 5 days. You ALL know who you are.

5 Things I Abhor:

• Being clumsy. Liquids are not safe around me. And my 2007 Christmas Card list is now lost to the ages.


• Being dizzy. Only 3 weeks to go before I see the physical therapist. Please goddess let her fix me on the 11th. I'm over it.


• Being guilty. So I'm not going to be guilty any more. I'm taking care of me first. The rest of you can get in line and fill out the appropriate forms. In triplicate.


• Being slack. That resume isn't going to update itself, unfortunately. Can't get away from The Man without it. Word.


• Being alone. The next guy is going to feel like a stud because I'll be zero to O in under a minute. Guaranteed. No need to form a line, just knock.

Let's face it, even if the maraschino cherries are floating in some serious alcohol, they aren't going to beat the long dry spell. Abhor wins.

Tell all your single friends, dizzy, clumsy, and EASY.

XO, JamieSmitten

Unbelievable

I can't quite wrap my head around it, so I don't expect any of you to manage it. Especially speaking in such oblique terms. But remember back when JamieSmitten found some peace and started smiling again right about here?

Well somebody should have told JamieSmitten to enjoy the feeling while it lasted. Because apparently, the ride for which I did not purchase a ticket but spins me around anyway has started up again.

Give me strength.

And therein lies the rub for the non-believer. I know that finding the strength is all up to me. Although Zeus with a few well placed lightning bolts wouldn't be rejected.

I refer to this Zeus

Not the four-legged one that lives on the other side of the fence, although that Zeus has his charms too.

Tell all your single friends, rough weather ahead.

XO, JamieSmitten

Your Guess Is As Good As Mine

I do believe I previously stated herein that I would not inflict my poetry on you, the unsuspecting blog public. Yes, I did -- right here. So abandon ship, save yourselves, I've gone and done it. Perhaps a reaction to the soul-deadening effect of working for the Man or to having to explain what 'practicable' and 'deleterious' mean to people who make twice my salary, this just had to come out. I'm not totally satisfied, but self-editing for me is the delete button. So forthwith and forsooth, my offering.

Quite Possible (or maybe My Times)

a poem by J. Smitten

It is quite possible that I will

when all is said and done, be still

outwardly

while raging inside at the sheer

lunacy

of my times

(this is not the times owned by the masses which are lamented

Oh the Times!

whether they be a-changin' or not

no, not those times at all)

MY times which ought be loud

with laughter and loving, yet crowd

silently

forward brimming with the sharp

focus

of the aware

(my times are not delivered to your doorstep

Nor should they be!

for they don't delight or quite frankly show

that I'm even right)

So fair warning to him

listening raptly or not, no whim

resolutely

tilting against the Sisyphean

task

of my times

Tell all your single friends, sometimes you just have to let it all hang out.

XO, JamieSmitten

Cooking with Gas (Literally and Figuratively)

Ah the holiday season. Not enough money and too many pot luck lunches. For tomorrow's fete, I was asked to bring desert. No, not a typo on my part. I flirted with the idea of bringing some sables au citron. That is French for lemon cookies, but sable also means sand. Yep, I geek out in French sometimes.

But then I dug out the recipe box and the Better Homes and Gardens and made some choices.

From Better Homes, I chose the Blonde Brownie recipe and made it more exciting with the addition of chocolate chunks.

From Grammy's recipe box, I chose the Oh Henry recipe. The resulting square bears no resemblance whatsoever to the Oh Henry chocolate bar. Grammy said there was another candy bar called Oh Henry and this recipe tasted just like THAT Oh Henry bar. But I've never seen one. In any case, it is yummy and different, containing graham crackers, coconut, maraschino cherries, and buttercream frosting.

Here is what you are missing if you aren't attending the pot luck tomorrow:

Good thing I explained the Oh Henry bar, eh? Here's a shot of the Blondies too -- on my souvenir plate from the bistro at the Paris casino in Vegas. (If you go, order the moules et frites.)

It looks like I burnt the counter, but I didn't.

That is cooking with gas literally, where is the cooking with gas figuratively? Read on.

My baking done, the kitchen cleaned, the Boom bathed (Al fresco! 70 degrees in December!), I sat down to catch up with my blog boys. Wandering over to the site of my unrequited Blush Aeleope, I found him writing up a storm as usual. That boy is nothing if not prolific. He even entered a contest -- 250 words or less -- to be inspired by this picture:

For details and to enter (deadline is 12/14 -- hurry!) check out An Innocent A-Blog here. I like these writing challenges -- convey your thought and get out quickly. Heck -- I wouldn't be blogging here if it weren't for a similar contest. So I looked at that picture and I started cooking, figuratively speaking.

Here is my entry to the Weirdly contest:

Everyone remembers before. "You should have seen it. Why it was the pride of the county! Folks came just to walk down Main Street and take their picture in front of the falls." Why that town was nothing short of paradise, to hear them tell it. That's how it got its name anyway. Eden Falls, in case I forgot to say.

When they talk about after, they always shake their heads and lower their voices, like somebody died. Some families were just gone. Just like that. My granddaddy says if he had skipped school like he planned, he'd be deader than a doornail and missing to boot. He always says that when I miss the school bus. Sometimes if I ask him just right, he'll drive me over to see where Eden Falls used to be. There's no more Main Street, that's for sure. The government men that came after said only a fool would build that town back up. Just a matter of time before those falls did what they done before.

But you know what? Those falls never have done nothing. I've lived here my whole life and all I see is a waterfall and a field and bunch of ugly old trees. Joe's granny says that each of those trees is the soul of an innocent that got washed away when the falls broke through and came down Main Street. But I don't think that's right. Those trees would be pretty if they were.

It came out rather quickly -- like the falls.

Tell all your single friends, JamieSmitten can feed your body and mind, if you just let her.

XO, JamieSmitten

What The World Needs Now

...is TWO great events on two consecutive nights! You have NO idea how rare that is in Richmond. This is not NYC. But it does happen and I took full advantage.

Saturday night was Cracker at Toad's Place. I love, love, love Cracker. I know every song, I worship every guitar lick, I am a fan. Even having just seem them a few months ago at a much smaller venue, it was instant bliss. Two full hour sets and another 1/2 hour encore. I wish you'd been there. Standing behind me, of course.

In typical Richmond fashion, I ran into the estranged wife of my ex-roommate's brother. (She says hi.) I also saw a lot of PBR tall boys being consumed. Again, typical Richmond fashion.

Sunday night was the PostSecret/Found charity tour. If you don't already visit PostSecret every Sunday to read the new secrets, I highly recommend you do. Found Magazine keeps me looking around when Boom and I go for a walk, hoping to find the perfect note to send in. I bought founder Davy Rothbart's book, The Lone Surfer of Montana, Kansas. It is a great read so far and there was something oddly hot about him in person. Despite the gangsta chains. And for some reason, there was also a sword swallower from North Carolina named Brett Loudermilk. Definitely, an unexpected Sunday night occurrence, but most enjoyable. And that Davy was hot.

So that's why I've been silent for a few days. I'm full of good times and trying to make them last.

I've Got (Incredibly Artistic) Mail!

Crankster had a post recently about an artist who was offering his art on postcards to those who saw the drawing on his site and emailed him. His name is Nat Dickinson and you can find him at Nat Dickinson Doing Art. In the case of more than one art collector, Nat rolls a die and sends it to the lucky winner.


I did not win Priceless Postcard #13 -- a rendition of coconut cake, so perfect for me -- but I was victorious with Priceless Postcard #20. It arrived in the mail yesterday:

They are tomatillos and so incredibly detailed that if I hadn't known Nat created the postcard himself, I would SWEAR it was printed. I'm going to purchase a frame for it today. You can see all the Priceless Postcards here.

So -- head on over to Nat's website and look around -- there are beautiful paintings under the Recent Work link. If he's offering a postcard, do yourself a favor and enter the drawing.

A Case of "that annoying song that loops endlessly on the slowest ride at Disney World"*

*I'd say the title, but then the damn song would be stuck in my head for days. You'll get it, if you haven't already.

It turns out that my manager's wife and I graduated from high school together. I vaguely remember her after looking at the senior yearbook. Lest you think I'm incredibly forgetful, there were over 500 graduates in that class -- and I definitely didn't know everyone. Also, lest you think I didn't own tweezers, Brooke Shields-style eyebrows were quite acceptable at that time.

But it is strange that we didn't figure this out before, as my manager and I spend about 50% of the work week together and have talked about teen years, etc. Even stranger -- we both attended the reunion held 3 years ago. We didn't work together then, but we were both there.

Which got me to thinking. How many places have I been at the same time as a future acquaintance? If I had zigged instead of zagged, would I have met that person then and not later? Was I standing behind my manager when we picked up nametags?

I know what you are thinking -- the whole "butterfly flaps its wings and causes a chain of events leading to a tsunami on the other side of the world" -- this isn't a new thought. But it does make me feel incredibly pressured to memorize faces when I'm out and about. So maybe when I do meet someone in the future, the déjà vu feeling will be quickly explained away.

Serendipity. Fate. Coincidence. I'll take them all.

Tell All Your Single Friends, it's a world of laughter - HA! Now you have to hum it too!



XO, JamieSmitten

Francophile, c'est moi!

In the past week I have watched Paris, Je T'aime and La Vie En Rose. They were both excellent films saturated with l'esprit de Paris. I highly recommend them.

I'm going back there some day.

Maybe that should be my new motivation for going to work every day when clearly, I have lost that loving feeling. The Man lost his loving feeling for me first, if he ever really cared. Each pointless meeting earns me an increment of my paycheck which properly cultivated (no more expensive organic lavender shampoo even though it makes my hair luxuriously soft and the lack of parabens will keep me from developing any number of diseases) could be transformed into a ticket to Paris.

Bon. Maintenant, il faut pratiquer le français pour être prêt.

I'd like to thank the academy.....

I may have mentioned before that Crankster is my Brother from Another Mother. He grew up in No Va, he has strong feelings about Q-Tips, he knows and likes Richard Brautigan, for heck's sake. He's just all that and a mug of Nescafe Cafe con Leche (ask him, I drink the real thing).

So, in addition to brightening my every day (thank you NaBloPoMo), he bestows awards! In fact, he's downright gift-y this season. Here are the three awards he has bestowed upon yours truly:

Crankster said: "I nominate the following (alphabetically organized)
five bloggers for the "Thinking Blogger Award," and thank them deeply for giving
me another viewpoint: Jamiesmitten, of Tell All Your Single Friends, tends toward
the sort of random, playful thoughtfulness that so often leads to great ideas
and sparks of genius."

I own random and playful and I strive mightily for sparks of genius. I appreciate the vote of confidence.

Crankster said: "When I was coming up with Jamiesmitten's pajamas, I
cheated a little: I looked at the Halloween pictures on her blog. Her
pajamas are relaxed, playful, and come with a pair of ears."

Again with the playful. Clearly, Crankster has spies in Richmond. And for the record, if I wore pajamas, I would definitely be rocking the ears -- just like Josie and the Pussycats (cartoon version, please, not that movie).

Crankster said: "As I may have pointed out once or
twice, Jamiesmitten is a little random, a little silly, and a lot incisive.
Somewhere in this apparent contradiction, she stakes out a very brave and very
feminine space."

Random, oh so random. And brave is my hope. I think I got feminine for the blue toenails.




So it is with gratitude and sibling affection, that I post my awards over on the side bar. I'm definitely planning on regifting soon. After I spend some time thinking about all of YOU in pajamas.




Tell All Your Single Friends, blog awards are what the cool kids are giving.




XO, JamieSmitten

Happy Birthday to Me (and to you!)

Well THAT year crawled by painfully -- here's to 41!! Raise a glass tonight -- and we'll all be drinking together.

I'll be at home this evening with a recuperating Boom. He had surgery on his second aural hematoma this morning. Not the best way for a highly attached dog and his mum to spend the day. Pre-surgery picture below -- poor boy's ear was swollen up to empanadilla size by end of vacation.



Once you finish your birthday toast to me, head on over to http://www.freerice.com/ and show off your logophile tendencies for a good cause. According to the article I read, very few people make it past level 48 (of 50). I have made it to 48 and will make it to 50 if it takes all year. Caution: If you get to the word "stithy" and decide to ask for help, be sure to enunciate. My mum's answer of "well dear, that's a hard on" was well intentioned, but off the mark.

Today (and every day), Cracker says it best:

I'm feeling thankful
for the small things, today
I'm feeling thankful
for the small things, today
Happy, Happy Birthday to me
Happy Birthday to me
and to you



Tell All Your Single Friends, JamieSmitten is older, if not necessarily wiser!



XO, JamieSmitten

What I'm Seeing

Some random photos from the Week of Nothing. Oh, there was some activity (gym, work, swim, read, sleep, repeat), but thankfully, not a lot. Sometimes you just need to shut it down.


Mum's schoolhouse birdhouse. Silly me, I thought it was just a decoration, so when I tugged on the door handles (non-functioning, it turns out), a damn bird flew out. I like birds FROM A DISTANCE. I shout because I can't stress this enough. Birds flying a foot away from my face is just not right. Happily, I later noted a woodpecker doing his pecking business on the side of the birdhouse. Serves you right, bird.








Oranges -- but they look like balls. (She said balls!)













My nail color is BLUE MY MIND. It wasn't easy floating so you could have the full 10 toe effect. You are welcome.

Boom -- with pool waves decorating him!

My pool companion. His brother Sol (he's yellow) kept me company in the hot tub. Sigh. I really must start being nicer to men so they will accompany me on vacation.

I couldn't remember the name of this plant, but it had long magenta dreadlocks so of course I took a picture. Mum just reminded me that it is a chenille plant and I first saw them in Jamaica. When I was 8. So many drug cells lost during that first year of university........

Mum will be back from the cruise today, so 2 of these 3 puppies will no longer be following me around the house. Unless I have food in my hand.

Boom's glamour shot -- a.k.a. Flora and Fauna

Not Dead, Just in Hiding

Ahhhhhhhhh. Vacation. It comes so infrequently and feels so lovely.

I've been away from the corporate masters for 4 days now and it feels mighty fine. O.K., I had to work for an hour on Sunday, but that was just to save myself from a HUGE mountain of crap when I return to the office.

I had plenty of bloggerrific thoughts during my 13 hour drive to Vacation, but most have been lost for eternity -- floating in a hot tub will do that to you. Here is some of what seemed important while on the road:

• Dead or Alive was an AWESOME band. Somebody should enrich her cd collection with Youthquake posthaste.




• For a Halloween spent in the car, only hearing Monster Mash and Thriller once each on the radio is pretty darn good.




• The Sexual Excitement Assortment available from dispensing machines in restrooms gets cheaper the further south you drive. I'd be interested to hear if this is an east coast phenomenon....




• City style is not country style. Or perhaps, JamieSmitten style is not country style. Real conversational exchange: "Did you do that to your hair for Halloween?" "No. My hair is like this 365." "In that case, I like it." Sadly, he was the minority. How insular is a community if my two tone hair is the talk of the ENTIRE lunch crowd?




• Clouds are pretty. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Sadly, I didn't get any good Driving Cloud pictures. Hopefully, the return trip home will offer some opportunities.




• Cruise control is not the devil's plaything. Fine, you win, Technology. Yes, cruise control is helpful. Although it still feels like being on a trolley.




• Dogs only have health issues AFTER they visit the vet. Boom got a clean bill of health on Saturday before the trip and arrived at Vacation with a whopping aural hematoma. Local vets have been less than helpful, so Boom carries around a blood balloon ear until we get back home to Dr. Gray. He's a trooper and is enjoying his vacation despite. Thank goodness he only has 2 ears.




• The 2 things I knew I needed were the 2 things I forgot to pack. Back in Black by AC/DC has been with me on every road trip ever. First cassette, then cd. 120 cds with me and I forget the classic. sigh. My favorite Christmas present from last year was also supposed to be first in the car, but got left in the bedroom. I know what you are thinking and to punish you, the picture of said favorite Christmas present from last year has been hidden here.




• Gas prices are outrageous, yet all the cars who blocked my view of the road ahead and moved into my lane without indicating were by and large, gas guzzling SUVs. Seriously, people, get over your car status symbols.



• 95 through Jacksonville deserves some sort of medal for longest road improvement without improvement project.



• There is a state park for everyone:

I've been known to favor them. : )

• I should have been a long distance truck driver because 13 hours in the car is way better than how I usually spend my day. Must look into that.

There will be more vacation pictures in the near future. But for now, back to the hot tub.

Tell All Your Single Friends, JamieSmitten's in hot water -- and loving it!

XO, JamieSmitten

Halloweens Past

I passed Wonder Woman on the street today and realized that Halloween is indeed upon us. I haven't been thinking about it much as I'm leaving on vacation that day and nobody is having a party this year.

My opinion on Halloween varies with the year. Sometimes it is completely fun and other times it just seems like I'm providing candy crack to the neighborhood. Thanks to a lovely card from Val and Aimless, I'm feeling it this year. So since I won't be dressing up this year, I dug up a few pictures from Halloweens past.



I'm the cute bunny on the right. Actually, I look like an escapee from a lab that PETA will shortly be raiding. What's up with my crumpled ears? And this was BEFORE we went trick or treating. Can you imagine how bedraggled I looked after slogging my plastic pumpkin up and down the streets? I don't think this was the year my sister "lost" me around the corner from the house, but then again, I've blocked out most of that memory.

There were many other costumes throughout childhood: gypsy, scarecrow, TV (don't ask), gypsy (the 70s were a good time to raid your mum's wardrobe for hoop earrings). No photos in my collection, but I'm sure they were taken.

I returned to the bunny theme for a Halloween party my senior year of high school. Mike's family had a huge piece of land in the middle of Fairfax and they threw a fabulous Halloween party complete with a hayride around the backyard. Younger brothers would jump out and scare the pants off you as the wagon lurched around in the dark. I was just glad to make it to the party as I had locked my keys in the car when I stopped for gas. This was back in the days when the gas station attendant would run your gas card on a little machine and then hand you the carbon to sign. I ran inside to pay and automatically locked the door. With the car running. Whilst wearing a leotard and bunny ears. (I had matured into an "adult" bunny look). Once the mechanics finished laughing, they quickly popped the door lock and had me back on the road. Again, no pictures in my possession.


I learned another valuable lesson that night: don't make out with a boy when you are wearing a black make-up bunny nose. Let's just say, it was hard to explain how my nose ended up all over his face. To his girlfriend.


Next picture I found was from a university Halloween party my freshman year. Three blind mice was our choice and we were quite blind with drink by the end of the night. Note the yarn tails and socks on our hands. (Yes, I'm tragic when it comes to special effects. For real Halloween makeup magic, visit Manda.) I remember ditching the socks quickly as it made beer holding difficult. I'm on the left, in case you were confused.

I remember other Halloween parties at university, but no pictures survived. The next picture I found was from 1997 give or take a year. My theme was Dominatrix, although if truth be told, I just felt like being a little saucy that year. It was during the blonde years and I was still testing out that "more fun" theory. Sadly, I ended up babysitting a roommate on ecstasy and didn't really get to give that costume the night it deserved. Plus, it turned out to be very difficult to drive with my hair standing 10 inches up from my head. If you look closely, you can see my Caesar standing behind me.

The following year, Wombat came to town and much more fun was had. I decided to balance the naughty of the previous year with a little nice. Clearly, catholic school girl was the only choice. Interestingly, I got way more attention in this costume. (Scott -- I've still got the kilt. I'm just saying.) Wombat was wearing a wig, so I don't think she'll kill me for posting her picture.

Clearly, I take a lot of pictures in the foyer. Must expand my repertoire.


Tell all your single friends, don't forget to take a picture this Halloween!!


XO, JamieSmitten

Someone's Always Someone Else's One*

*from The One by the Foo Fighters

I did it. I finally finished my Shuffleathon 2007 mixtape cd. Oh the agony. Oh the futility of trying to narrow down my favorite songs into something coherent, meaningful, and enjoyable, for a total stranger.

All I know about my unsuspecting Recipient is that she is an Australian now living in the UK.

So clearly, she doesn't need my favorite Hoodoo Guru/Jet/Clash/Fratellis songs. She's got those angles covered. Fine -- American music.

Brief foray into -- North American? Throw in some north of the border Hot Hot Heat?

No, let's not get distracted. We have a country of origin. Check.

Now, how about a theme..... Love? Makes the world go 'round. Can I find a song from each of my favorite artists that deals with that weighty subject? Probably, but is it the best song I could pick? What if my selection forever sours Recipient on my all time favorite band ever, Cracker? TOO MUCH PRESSURE.

So, I'll just pick my favorite song from my favorite American artists. Sure, that narrows it down. To about a zillion songs.

Must dig deeper....

I've got it! American bands that I have seen in concert! That narrows it down some more and suddenly, I'm able to make some decisions.

So, my Shuffleathon CD will go to the post office on Saturday containing 15 songs (barring tomorrow's final review) from bands I've seen in concert (except for Rancid, but I did see Tim Armstrong with the Transplants, so I'm calling that a wash) that sort of deal with love (unless there was a better song) and make me happy.

I'll post the link to recipient's review when available. Hopefully, she's happy to be my one.

Tell all your single friends, the mixtape lives on!

XO, JamieSmitten

Googleganger Anybody?

The morning news show was talking about Googlegangers today -- the person or persons who share your name and whom you locate when you Google yourself. A Doppelganger for the internet age.

My Googleganger is a football player in the Highland League in Scotland. Sadly, he'll never know about me because I don't appear to be Google worthy. On a juicier note, using my first and middle name nets me a porn star Googleganger.

What did you get?


Tell all your single friends, there may be another you out there.

XO, JamieSmitten

Any Last Requests?

I don't know if this is fall out from my afternoon spent next to the incarcerated or from the really good dinner I just had at Athens restaurant, but I'm thinking about my last meal.

Note: If I AM on death row, I was framed. Or, it was justifiable homicide because I murdered a co-worker for saying, "we need to find some synergies and robustify our processes" (and pronounced it "praw-ses-zees" like making it more syllables means he's smart).

But just in case, framed or not, I want that last meal to be good:

Platanos con crema
Black beans and rice
2 butter tarts (homemade, not store bought)
and a pitcher of Perpetual Motions

No vegetables, but I'm guessing that fiber consumption won't be uppermost in my mind.

So, what do you desire for YOUR last repast? I wasn't going to name names, but my Blushman threw down the gauntlet with his post today, so I'm asking. Pretty please, post your last meal in a comment. Who knows? I might even make it for you!

I would love to hear from (in alphabetical order because this is supposed to be a democracy):

Ahamos
Aimless
Connie
CrankyOldBastard
Evelyn
Manda
Mum
My Blush, Aeleope
Patty
Stephano
Val
Wombat

And of course, Anonymous

Tell all your single friends, JamieSmitten is morbidly curious about your culinary cravings.


XO, JamieSmitten

Kids -- Learn From My Mistake!

I drive quickly. Often. Driving being one of the things I love to do. Sometimes, I just like to get there quickly.

4 months ago, I got a ticket for trying to get home too quickly. I wasn't really late, just zoned out on a four lane divided road through an industrial park that some government genius deemed worthy of a 35 limit. Sigh. Happily, I received the ticket before the new laws were enacted which added a civil penalty to all traffic infractions of Virginia drivers. But still -- it was a $190 slap on the wrist -- and I just don't have that kind of money lying around.

Today I went to traffic court, determined to smile, wheedle, and possibly weasel my way into a lower fine, a pat on the wrist, heck, traffic school. 5 hours later, I walked out dehydrated, starved, demoralized, with a caffeine withdrawal headache the size of Cleveland. I also had $116 less in the bank. But oh what a display of humanity! Bear in mind, I worked in Las Vegas, so I've seen me some humanity.

In no particular order, I saw:

• A mullet. No, not an ironic mullet. A true lifestyle commitment. Its owner was there because he drove his buddy's car with expired plates to the sheriff's office on an errand for another friend despite the fact that his license was expired. He got a fine and 55 days in jail -- to be served on consecutive weekends, 48 hours at a time, until done.


• Hurley -- the dude from Lost. Well, at the very least, his little brother. Hurley2 became an example for everyone as he had been to traffic school twice, but was appearing today for his fifth speeding ticket. The fourth was received on the way home from traffic school. He got the big fine. His mama was not happy. Neither were the rest of us, having just realized that traffic school wasn't going to be the easy out for any of us.


• Creepy bible-reading man. He looked a bit like Jackie Earle Hailey in his big comeback movie, Little Children. He sat next to me for 2 hours mainlining cinnamon gum and reading Timothy. Don't know a thing about that book of the bible, but he sure made it last for the full 2 hours. Alphabetically, he was screwed and still sitting there when I got my wrist slap and beat feet.


• Harold Ramis. Again, not really HR, but certainly a close blood relative. HR claimed that the program director for ASAP (Alcohol Safety Awareness Program -- see? I was paying attention!) told him that he didn't need to do the program if he never wanted to get his driver's license back. His offense was driving to the liquor store, downing a pint in the parking lot, and then driving home. Apparently, he now cabs to the liquor store to drink in the parking lot. They cuffed him. Not sure where he went.


• Batty old lady. She didn't answer one of the judge's questions correctly, but she got off with no charges. Great, I might be a speeder, but at least I'm sane.


• 2 inmates from the jail -- complete with waist chains and ankle chains. One of them was so cold his teeth were chattering. He got a referral to a psychiatrist to determine if he knew why he was in jail. The other inmate had a whole host of issues -- "malicious wounding" being the charge bandied about most. He was losing his house because he'd been in jail for 55 days and hadn't made a payment in months. Did I mention these two were sitting directly in front of me?


• Paris Wannabe. She was forced to surrender her license to the court, but will have all charges removed from her record in one year if she remains alcohol and drug free during that time. Being only seventeen, you'd think that would be manageable. Daddy's lawyer did all the talking, while Princess did all the pouting. Clearly, reckless endangerment under the influence while underage is just, like, so annoying already.

Drug convictions, alcohol counseling, multiple DUIs, and speed, speed, speed. We were all sinners in one way or another. But at least I found out where all the men in this town are on the weekend. In jail, doing time.

Tell all your single friends, if speed doesn't kill you, general district court will.

XO, JamieSmitten

Boom and Zeus

More pictures of our weekend with Zeusy Papoosey.

Boom was not aware that his outside lounge was built for two.

Note the wet patch in front of Boom's ear -- Zeus pulled this particular patch of fur when he wanted attention

Demonic puppy? Nah -- he just plays one on Blogger......

Nature -- with extra nature free of charge!

My Neighbor John (father of Zeus) sometimes helps out a florist friend with deliveries or floral designs near the holidays. This is lovely, because I often receive bouquets of fabulous flowers for no reason at all. Can't tell you what it does for a girl's mood to get flowers out of the blue.


Tonight, Boom and I were heading out for our evening stroll and poop (do I need to clarify that only Boom participates in the second? hope not) and we were confronted with the world's largest bug on the screen door. I don't mind bugs, they are way more manageable than mice. So, I'm standing there trying to figure out if it is a really big cricket, or a really fat and short preying mantis, and if either of those can fly, when Neighbor John gets home from work. He inquires what I'm doing, I explain, and he comes over to investigate.


Neighbor John is of the opinion that it is a big cricket. He touches the back end of super bug and it rises up (one question answered!) and whirs away. Where did it go? I say looking around. Even Boom seems disconcerted. Oh well, gone now. So I turn my attention to the huge sheath of flowers in Neighbor John's arms. Peach roses, those dark reddish things I never remember the names of, and some pretty berry thingies. (I live next to a floral decorator, clearly, I'm not one.) I remark how pretty, Neighbor John says have them, I demur, and then of course, take them. This girl knows when she needs a little beauty in her life. So, I carry them in to the kitchen and head out for a walk, having been assured they can wait that long to be put in water.


Nice walk, usual bunch of suburbanites trying to parallel park, same old, same old. Strolling, pooping, all accomplished as expected. Home and into the kitchen to take a stab at arranging the flowers in a semblance of order. I trim stems, I sniff roses, I turn around to get a vase from above the cabinets behind me.









And there he is -- super bug. Clearly, his leap to freedom was to the lush foliage 10 inches away. I mentally revise my opinion of his flying ability. Super bug is now roaming the ceiling of my kitchen. He had plenty of time to crawl out of the bouquet, up the cabinets and roam around. Now, he's directly above the vase I need. Like so:






I consider my options. Look for a broom or mop or something to flick him down and then sweep him out the door? Too risky -- all manner of things could be broken when the brooms start flailing. Leave super bug alone and hope he makes his way peaceably down to ground level. Yep, I went with option 2. Plus, when I got a chair to retrieve the vase closest to him, he clearly trembled, so not thinking he's a big threat at the moment.


So, the flowers are in the vase and super bug is in the kitchen. Nature, gotta love it!

Tell all your single friends, Flowers are ALWAYS welcome!

XO, JamieSmitten

Happy Thanksgiving!

Never did feel much affinity for Columbus, so I'll go with the Canadian holiday today. No shortage of things to be thankful for either.

All Right Now (baby, it's a-all right, now)

I had to Google "lyrics all right now" to find out who sang that song. That's what kind of week I've had. All extraneous facts have been relegated to the attic storage of my brain. Still there, if I'm willing to climb a few flights. Bad Company, in case you've had the same week.

The good news is that I am all right. Now.

* * * * *

Helping to make everything rosy, puppy Zeus has arrived for his 5 day stay. He is a very good natured puppy although Boom might dispute that when his extremities, neck, and face are being chewed vigorously. And when Zeus sleeps, it is absolute. Sprawled out, snoring with vigor, and paws paddling away. I could live without the 5 a.m. wake up call, but that's a small price to pay for this much puppy love.





Dig those crazy mismatched eyes!




Boom and Zeus don't stand still for nobody!



Chewing on a bone instead of on Boom

* * * * *

Four new cds have been purchased as "necessities" for the making of my Shuffleathon cd. No progress on assembling the cd though. I made the mistake of reading some of the reviews from the previous Shuffleathon and now I've got creation anxiety. Ah well, it will be a slice of smitten and how can that be wrong?

* * * * *

Finally, do yourself a favor and read about crafty buns here. Who knew my Blush had such talent in his nether regions? Who knew I'd ever be able to slip 'nether regions' into a post?

I did.



Tell all your single friends, JamieSmitten is smiling again.


XO, JamieSmitten

Shuffleathon 2007

There is a price to pay for wandering aimlessly around the blogsphere: a mix tape. For you kids out there, a compilation cd. I stumbled across Shuffleathon 2007 here and on a whim, signed up! (Technically, I convinced Wombat to sign up and then she forced me to follow suit.) But here I am, I've received my recipient's information (can't tell you details, SwissToni frowns upon that sort of thing), and I've already created and rejected 3 lists.

I've also realized that I can't find half the songs I know are in my laptop as they are on my Zen and couldn't have made that voyage immaculately. So, while I spend time at work building the *perfect* playlist of 12 songs, I'm dreading the thought of having to go home, get all those cds, and load them into a new, clearly labeled folder.

Plus I've already ordered one cd and will probably have to buy a few more to enable my vision. Not what I should be doing in light of the lost cash fiasco. Sigh.

However -- I CAN'T WAIT to receive my cd in the mail. It will be just like Christmas!

Things I Adore, Things I Abhor

[Yep, I'm doing this again. Nope, I'm not putting links to previous TIA/TIA. Too cranky.]



5 Things I Adore Today:

• Free cherry tomatoes! (I "liberated'" them from Neighbor John)


• A cool breeze (finally, dog walking without the sweat)


• Fluffy, non-itchy dog fur (looks like Boom's new food is working. Sadly, his fart incidence is on the rise)


• This blog (amazing pictures and a chance to lire en francais)


• This interpretation of Pachelbel's Canon on guitar (get hooked on the classics, kids!)

5 Things I Abhor Today:

• Bad Irish accents (I'm talking about you, new thug guy on Heroes)


• Lost wallets (my fault, I know. Hate the loss, not the loser)


• Mondays (I work for the Man)


• Mondays (felt like a twofer)


• Absolut New Orleans (I'm not much of a vodka fan, but who seriously thought mango and black pepper was a nice thing to do to drinkers trying to support Gulf Coast relief efforts?)

Hmmmmmmm. The lost wallet really annoyed me (DMV on a Saturday anyone?) but I'm getting over it. I think Adore wins, but only by a Boom-length tail.

Must be the full-ish moon

Many, many years ago, I read a book by Fay Weldon and was captivated by one paragraph. I remember fumbling around late at night by the weak light of the bedside lamp for a scrap of paper upon which to record the words. I knew I would want to read them again.

The scrap of paper ended up being the back of an envelope -- deep red, maybe a Valentine? -- and I wrote straight across the flap. A little less glue and I'd have half a profound thought. (Not the first time.) The paper was folded and tucked in my address book where it has remained to this day. I read it now and again. It still gives me pause that one writer's words can strike a reader like lightning, true and to the core. I want to write like that. I want to make someone stop, go back, read again, and feel a connection.

I pulled that scrap of paper out tonight on purpose. Because words can close the distance between writer and reader. Words can.

"...Erotic consciousness. Reader, what is etched in yours? What collar-bone, what little patch of textured skin, what dangling pendant? Think! Remember! Keep back the glacier of age by the sheer warmth, the sheer force of sexual recollections, wild imaginings! It can be done: it is worth the doing."

I'm amazed at the prescience that made me respond to those words. At the time, the glacier of age wasn't even visible on the horizon. Maybe I knew that many of my years would be spent remembering, rather than doing. Or maybe I was just glad to be in the midst of making those memories hand over breast.

I'm ready to make more.

Note: I think this quote was from The Shrapnel Academy, but really, you can't go wrong with any Fay Weldon.


Tell all your single friends -- books can amaze.


XO, JamieSmitten

I've Got Nothing

.....to offer tonight. 400 people were given their walking papers by the Man yesterday and I'm still processing all the turmoil.

So here are some pretty pictures from my last visit to the cottage. No Man there, I should have stayed.

Boom and his cousin Roxie, impatient to get in the lake

Ah. Just like old times. I had to take a picture.

Every sunset is a different color.

Ditto.

The cottage is in Canada and this picture rocks.


This picture is for Scott. Old school outhouse. Well, it was old school until my uncle hung a mirror in it to see who was coming up the hill behind him.

XO, JamieSmitten