I love...Christmas.

You've probably been thinking: "What did Jenny do for Christmas this year?!"
Well, relax, I'll tell you.

The long holiday weekend started early, with me being sick. Thursday I woke up not felling well. I'll spare you all the details, but I spent some quality time with my bathroom that morning. I then proceeded to sleep...all day. Not exactly sure what was wrong, but I didn't get my appetite back until Saturday evening, so I have decided to call it a "Christmas Diet"!

After a long Thursday nap I was feeling well enough on Friday to venture out and finish my Christmas shopping. I visited Room Service in Ohio City, the new shops on East 4th Street and Big Fun in Lakewood. Then I stopped by the grocery store to pick up ingredients for a dip I wanted to take to a Christmas party that evening. The recipe included cream cheese and pepper jelly relish all mixed together in one bowl of yumminess. However, I blanked on the ratio of relish to cream cheese, so once I mixed it together it came out bright pink. And I mean pink as in Pepto-Bismol pink. Or as in kinda scary looking to eat with a cracker pink. I was running late, so decided to still take the dip and hope for the best. The party was a great time. It was a gathering of the Hunt Club Pool Rats - a group I managed to sneak my way into during college when I met my good friend Rachel (aka: Moose). She brought me around enough that the Hunt Club friends she grew up with couldn't get rid of me. I should also note that one of the Pool Rats, Ryan, managed to earn 1,000 From Chalk With Love bonus points by mentioning my blog a gazillion times throughout the night.

I then spent Saturday-Monday in Columbus where my sister Susan and her family live. The rest of my family met up there for the weekend, too. We laughed. We ate. We rationed Great Lakes Christmas Ales. My dad made some repairs to my slowly dying car. My 2-year old niece taught me that the word "mine" can be used to answer just about any question. And I was given the new nickname of "butter pockets" (I can't remember exactly why, but it was funny).

For Christmas I got several great items, including a crockpot and pink leopard print mixing bowls that I'm sure I'll eventually use while wearing my apron. I got Tina Fey's book "Bossypants", which I've heard a lot of good things about and can't wait to dig into. I also got Shel Silverstein's newly released book "Every Thing On It", and as I've previously stated - I love Shel Silverstein - so this was especially exciting.

All in all, it was a great weekend (minus the opening Thursday sick-nap scene). I hope you all had a great holiday weekend, too!

Now that the Christmas weekend is over it's time to focus on planning a 2012 NYE celebration for this weekend! I know I'll be with some good friends downtown, but need to pick the place(s), the props (like last year's drink hangers), and the outfit.

Are you ready, 2012?

I love...pizza.

This week I got an email, but it wasn't just any email.
It was an email about pizza, but it wasn't just any email about pizza.
It was an email letting me know that I had won a gift card to Little Caesars!
You see, over the weekend I stumbled upon a contest on Metromix.com where you had to write about your favorite pizza topping and then every week they would choose a winner. It was as though they were asking me to spell my name. So I entered and several days later I received my pizza email.

If you know me, then you know that receiving that email was an exciting moment, because: I.love.pizza.

The dough. The sauce. The cheese. How can you not love it? It's great fresh & hot or leftover & cold. Dress it up or keep it plain. The options are endless.

It's pretty difficult for me to turn a slice down, which is why several years back I went on an accidental pizza crawl in Cleveland. I believe it was a Saturday during college football season, so some friends and I had ventured out early in the afternoon. Around lunchtime I opted for a slice of pizza from Panini's. Then around dinnertime some friends and I got a pizza at a little shop on West 6th Street. Then around bedtime I had a pizza nightcap at Guy's Pizza on Coventry Road. It was a delicious day (and in my memory it was a "no calories" Saturday).

Now I live in Tremont, where Edison's (a pub with a pizza kitchen that is open late into the night) is just a quick walk from my apartment. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but I know it's a delicious thing.

So I am eagerly awaiting my pizza gift card and planning my next pizza purchase. If you're wondering what I listed as my favorite pizza topping: banana peppers! I explained that just when you think pizza can't get any better - BAM - it's banana pepper-tastic.

Is there more that I can say about pizza? Sure, but it's best that I stop now, because all this pizza talk only makes me want to eat this blog post.

I love...the snooze button.

You know the saying: "The early bird gets the worm"?

Well, the thing is, I've never been a fan of worms.

I have a long-standing relationship with my snooze button. I can find it in the dark, with my eyes closed, during an indoor snow storm full of snooze button-defending unicorns* (*if snooze button-defending unicorns existed). I'll hit that button so many times that eventually it gives up on me and turns itself off.


Five more minutes of sleep? Yes, please. Five more minutes of laying here with my eyes closed thinking about how I should just get out of bed already? Yes, please.

As much as I love that little button, I'm starting to wonder if our relationship has gone too far? Perhaps bordering on 'unhealthy'? For the past couple weeks I've been willing myself to get up early (or even just 'on time') and work out. But every morning that alarm has gone off and -BAM- I can't get enough of that snooze button. The first week it was purely BEEP, snooze, BEEP, snooze, BEEP. The second week my mind was on board with the plan so I didn't actually fall back to sleep after hitting snooze, but my body still wasn't playing along. So though I was awake, I didn't actually step out of bed right away.

Now, here I am, typing it out. Maybe this will help - I'm breaking up with my snooze button. It's not you, Snooze, it's me, seriously. Maybe we can meet up again on a Saturday or after a random nap. Until then we'll always have our happy memories of 6:52 a.m. ...and 6:57 a.m. ...and 7:02 a.m.

Oh, I should also note that this doesn't mean I'm going to be going after any worms, the early birds can still have those. I'm cool with being the early Jenny who gets the coffee and oatmeal.

I love...random short story Sunday.

What is "random short story Sunday"? It's a Sunday where I post one of the short stories that I've written.
When is "random short story Sunday"? It's today...right now! Random, huh? So grab your Snuggie, make some hot chocolate and curl up with this story about a porcupine & balloon animals.
Enjoy!

The Poptastic Poppy-Pop-Pop
by: jenny chalk

Once upon a time there was a puffy, purple porcupine named Poppy-pop-pop. Poppy-pop-pop was just about the happiest porcupine there ever was. He was happy when he fell asleep and happy when he woke up. He was happy when he stubbed his toe and happy when he got a cold. He was even happy when someone stole the wheels off his car - "Eh, I should do more walking anyways," he'd say.

There was only one thing in the whole world that made Poppy-pop-pop angry, and that was...balloon animals.

Poppy-pop-pop's balloon animal hatred started when he was very young. For his 5th birthday party his parents ordered a clown to come and entertain the kids. The clown had a big red nose and crazy blue hair, he smelled of alcohol and couldn't say Poppy-pop-pop's name without hiccuping. All the porcu-kids loved him! The clown danced around in the backyard, occasionally falling over and making everyone laugh. After he'd been there a while, he pulled out a huge bag of balloons. All the porcu-kids gathered around him and he began to blow up the balloons and twist them into tiny animals...well, at first he only made snakes, which were the easiest to do as there was nothing to do except blow up the balloon. But after Poppy-pop-pop's parents had a stern talk with the clown and gave him an extra twenty bucks he began to get more inventive. One porcu-kid got a pony. Another got a giraffe. Then another got a bumble-bee. The party was a hit! Then it was Poppy-pop-pop's turn, he asked for a teddy bear. The clown twisted and turned the balloon and created the most adorable balloon teddy bear anyone had ever seen. Poppy-pop-pop was soo happy!

That night Poppy-pop-pop carefully placed that cute, little teddy bear next to him in his bed. He wrote an entry in his journal titled "Me & My Balloon Bear...Forever". Then he fell asleep. Unfortunately in the middle of the night Poppy-pop-pop rolled onto his left side and popped that cute little balloon bear. He burst into tears. The next day he buried the little balloon pieces in his backyard and vowed to never, ever love another balloon animal. The mere thought of another balloon animal made his quills boil. When he was old enough he did some research and moved to a town with no clowns or balloon animals. Since then he'd been only happy.

One Sunday, years later, Poppy-pop-pop was walking home from his jazzercise class when he noticed a sign on one of the lamp posts that read: "First Annual Balloon Animal Parade! Starts today at 11:34 a.m."

Poppy-pop-pop looked at his watch, it was 11:33! He began running towards his house, if only he could get inside then he could close his blinds and watch reruns of Saved By The Bell until the parade was finished. But it was too late and he was too tired from jazzercise, he ran right into the path of the balloon animal parade. There were porcupines everywhere holding balloon dogs, balloon elephants, balloon ponies. Poppy-pop-pop's quills began to raise up. He imagined himself spinning in circles and popping all of the balloon animals in his path just to get them out of his sight.

Just as Poppy-pop-pop was about to lose it, a small little porcupine walked up to him from the crowd, smiling and holding out an adorable little teddy bear balloon. Poppy-pop-pop was suddenly flooded with memories of that teddy bear balloon animal from his 5th birthday. He asked himself why he'd been holding this hatred for all other balloon animals - they were still adorable. He told himself he should give them another chance. So he reached out and accepted that adorable little ballon bear from the little porcupine. He smiled, and gently held it out in front of him as he looked it over.

Then he karate popped that adorable little balloon bear. He was too old for toys, what would he do with it?

Poppy-pop-pop skipped home, made some chocolate chip cookies, took a bubble bath and fell asleep...happy. He didn't hate balloon animals anymore! He was officially the happiest porcupine there ever was.

The End

I love...Thanksgiving.

"Bloggle, bloggle!" That's the sound I think my blog would make if it was a turkey.

But my blog is not a turkey, it's a blog. That's why tonight the sound coming out of my blog is "type, type, type" as I recap a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend. A lot happened, so grab some leftovers, sit back and get ready to use those fancy reading skills...

Wednesday night (Thanksgiving Eve) I went to a birthday dinner with some friends at Crop's new location in Ohio City. The space is awesome and the food was yummy. After dinner we went to Market Avenue Wine Bar for another drink. There we saw a man that we were pretty sure was Cleveland Browns' player Peyton Hillis. As he left I joked that it wasn't him because he wasn't holding a football and he was wearing a belt. My friends pointed out that football players wear belts while they're playing. I suggested they should instead wear some sort of bodysuits. As we discussed the "belt vs. bodysuit" topic we lost track of the Mr. maybe-Hillis, and that was that. Later on we said our goodbyes and I found out that some other friends were nearby at Dragonfly. I stopped by to say hello, danced a quick salsa dance, then we walked down the street to Speakeasy to dance some more, and then we walked around the corner to Touch to dance even more. Looking back, this night of dancing was the perfect way to prepare for the day of eating that was to follow.

Thursday morning my sister Lisa picked me up and we headed to the airport to fly out to Washington, DC where our aunt and uncle live. At the airport ticket kiosk I went to enter the first three letters of my destination city and my sister and I were quite amused when the option of "Batman" appeared on the screen (mainly because of this Crank Yankers phone call that my sisters and I are obsessed with). After the flight, our parents picked us up and we went to our hotel to freshen up before dinner. There we were greeted by our sister Susan and two of her kids, Sean & Ryleigh (we missed you, Bill & Conor!). Ryleigh has finally remembered my name without prompting, which made my afternoon as she ran down the hall yelling "Aunt Jenny". We all squeezed into my parents' van and headed to our Aunt Rosemary and Uncle Mike's house. I walked in carrying a cooler my parents had packed up, which resulted in my relatives asking if I was ready for a Thanksgiving tailgate (actually, it didn't sound like a bad idea). I helped in the kitchen by rolling the crescent rolls with Lisa (a stressful and important job) and filling the water pitchers. Not to toot my own horn, but that was some of the best bread and water any Thanksgiving has ever seen! We ate, we drank, we Thanksgiving-ed it up.

On Friday everyone did their own thing during the day. Lisa and I visited the National Portrait Gallery, then wandered a bit and visited the very rarely seen Starbucks. That evening all of our cousins met up for happy hour in the Georgetown area. Then we headed back to our aunt's house for some pizza, which was eventually followed by our goodbyes since we were all headed our separate ways on Saturday morning.

The 2011 Thanksgiving weekend is now drawing to a close and I'm thankful for every deliciously wonderful part of it, from my friends to my family to the dancing to the laughs.

I hope your holiday was deliciously wonderful, too!

I love..."Almost Famous".

When I moved into my current apartment I didn't get cable. So when I wanted to watch something, I watched DVDs. On a regular rotation in my DVD player were the "Sex & the City" seasons, "500 Days of Summer" and..."Almost Famous".

The movie "Almost Famous" is on my list of top three movies. It makes me happy. I can quote it. I can fall asleep to it (and I have, several times). I make other people fall asleep to it (like two birthdays ago when my sisters were visiting, I tucked them into my bed and made them fall asleep to it, which is why my sister Lisa now fondly recalls my 'Almost Famous channel').

My love for the movie started a while back, cause it's awesome. If you've seen it, hopefully you're shaking your head in agreement right now. A young boy (and aspiring writer) travels around with a rockband and sees the ins and outs of the road and fame. He meets the lovely Penny Lane and lots and lots of awesomeness ensues. If you haven't seen it, you need to see it. Here are some of my reasons why...

The Quotes: As I mentioned, I could pretty much quote the whole movie, but I'll spare you. Instead here are a few highlights.

• "It's all happening!" - Once you hear it in the movie, you find it's pretty easy to use in day-to-day situations. When you do say it and someone around you offers recognition of what movie it's from, it's like you've found a secret club of Almost Famous groupies (well, Band-aids).
• Some other favorites: "Your aura is purple!"; "Feck you!"; "I hurt the flower."; "Rockstars have kidnapped my son."; "I didn't invent the rainy day, man. I just own the best umbrella."

The Music: Of course with a movie about rockstars, there's plenty of music throughout. There are some songs I can't hear without thinking of the movie. I'm okay with that.

• "Tiny Dancer" - Ah, the bus scene. This movie moment made me forever fall in love with this song. One night in college I snuck away from a party to go back to my apartment and listen to it. One of my roommates came home to find me dancing alone to it on our coffee table. Luckily she and a couple other friends happily joined in as we all sang along. As great as that was, I still can't wait for the day where I'll be on a bus and this will happen:

• "Mona Lisas & Mad Hatters" - Another Elton John song made its way into the movie. Though I'm not looking to recreate this particular scene, I did take a liking to the song. Unfortunately it didn't make its way onto the soundtrack, so I quickly bought the next CD I could find with it.

• "The Wind" - Penny Lane hangs out after a show to dance around on the trash left behind by fans as this Cat Stevens song plays in the background. It may sound like a weird scene, but I've noticed that after a concert when the lights come on and people have cleared out, somehow the trash of fans does look more poetic than trash looks when left on the side of the road.

Etc.: Want more? Well, there's also the fact that at one point in the movie the band sings a song written by Shel Silverstein. Or that the band plays a show in Cleveland and stops at Swingos. Or that the main character is a writer who gets an amazing opportunity.

Still, these are only a few tidbits to explain why I love this movie. I watched it again last night and today the aftertaste of it still makes me want to be a rockstar, or Penny Lane, or something in between.

Tonight my inner-Jenny is calling for an encore viewing, so as soon as I post this I'm going to press play on the DVD player. Why fight it..."it's all happening!"

I love...old sweatshirts.

Want to know what I'm wearing?

A sweatshirt.

Not just any sweatshirt - it's a sweatshirt that I've owned since my freshman year of college. I got it when I went for orientation. It's gray with large letters on the front that read: BGSU. It was my first "I'm in college" clothing item.

This sweatshirt has been with me through a lot. I wore it to class. I wore it when I didn't go to class. I wore it to bed. I wore it on walks. I wore it when I was sick. I wore it inside out and outside in.

Today the sleeve hems are torn, it's faded, there's a slight hand print in white paint on the back of it and small pen marks on the front of it.

Other sweatshirts have come and gone. But this one has managed to make it through all of my moves and my closet cleanouts.

I know there's more to this sweatshirt than the cloth that it's made of. There are the moments that happened when I was wearing it. Like the moment my friend put her painted hand print on the back of it (ahem, moose...), and the moment I accidentally marked it for the first time with pen (...and then marked it a second time).

There's a lot of warmth, a lot of comfort and a lot of memories wrapped up in this old sweatshirt. And now, on a chilly Wedneday night more than 10 years after I first got this sweatshirt, I'm wrapped up in all of that, too. And it feels good, no great, no...it feels sweatshirtastic.

I love...puppy chow.

Here I am, alone in my apartment, and just one room away in the dark it waits for me. It's puppy chow and I want to eat it...all of it.

I'm not talking about dog food, I'm talking about that mix of cereal, peanut butter, chocolate and powdered sugar. You might call it by a different name...but whatever you call it, it's delicious!

Over the past couple months I've found several occasions to make this yumminess. Once for a tailgate, once for a party and tonight I made it to take into work tomorrow for an office potluck.

Making it is the easy part (and it gave me a reason to wear my apron!). The difficult part is trying not to eat it all once I'm done.

I've been able to hold off from eating it all night, but it's getting late and before I go to bed I should probably try some just to make sure it's okay. It's a difficult job, but somebody has to do it. After all, my coworkers are counting on me. So just one bite...well, maybe two.

Have a yummy night!

I love...future Jenny.

In life it's important to take the time to think of someone other than yourself. How do your words affect your friends? How do your actions affect your neighbors? And let's not forget...how do your words and your actions affect your future self?

Or in my case, how do my words and actions affect future Jenny?

Like last summer when I was choosing a popsicle to enjoy. I found I had one grape popsicle and one orange popsicle left in my freezer. Though I preferred the orange over the grape, I went with the grape. Why? Because I knew that in a few days, future Jenny would be happy to have the orange one.

In the past I have bought clothes and not worn them right away. Then one day months later, as I'm looking for something to wear, I notice the perfect unworn top pushed to the back of my closet with the tags still on it...that's right, I had shopped for future Jenny!

Now that I think about it, thinking about future Jenny may be the perfect diet plan. Sure, I may want that piece of cake today, but future Jenny won't be so happy when her pants don't fit tomorrow. A moment on my lips, a lifetime on future Jenny's hips.

So remember, what you do right now will eventually affect your future self. But don't stress out about it, the last thing your future self wants is to have stress lines all over your face.

p.s.: Hi, future Jenny! Don't forget to buy milk...

I love...singing.

This past weekend I went on a singing binge.

It started on Saturday morning, I woke up early to sing with my friend's band at the Midtown Cleveland Healthline Classic Race. It was cold, windy and awesome. We did covers from "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" to "Friday I'm In Love" to "Good". By the end of the morning I was freezing, but my voice was warmed up for the singfest that was about to happen.

Sunday I spent the day watching football with some friends. We were all pretty tired from the previous day's festivities, but a couple of us perked up at the idea of Sunday Karaoke at Flying Monkey in Tremont. We arrived, we sang (my selections included "I Think We're Alone Now" & "Cryin'"), we stayed out too late - it was a success.

Monday night I went with a few friends to a Yelp Elite party at Beachland Ballroom. The theme? Costumes & Karaoke! Dressed in semi-80s clothes (a.k.a: my own clothes to the extreme), I first tried to sing "Hit Me With Your Best Shot", but the CD didn't work. So after some more consideration I went with "Something to Talk About". Eventually the party was drawing to a close, but my friends and I hadn't sang quite enough yet, so we made our way back to Tremont for karaoke at Prosperity. Yes, it was a double karaoke night! We gathered at the front corner of the bar and started putting in our requests. It was a pretty full room at this point, so the pressure was on. Then the DJ called my name and there I was, singing..."Don't You Forget About Me".

As Monday turned to Tuesday, my three-day sing-a-thon drew to a close. By the end of it I was exhausted, but I'd do it again and quite possibly I will. See you around the microphone!

...lalalala!

I love...writing.

Over the years I've collected a lot of journals. I think I have a box of them in my attic, there are probably still some at my parents' house, and tonight I counted seven on my bookshelf. Some are filled on every page, in others I've written on random pages - the 5th page, the 20th page, the last page.

They're filled with my thoughts, short stories, song lyrics, poems, ideas for a screenplay, and then some pages are just filled with beginnings, middles or ends of stories that are waiting to be revisited.

As I flip through their pages it's a nice little trip down Jenny-lane. It's a reminder of what I've loved for a long time...writing. I write when I'm happy, I write when I'm sad, I write when I'm bored, I write when I'm stressed. I write in my apartment, in coffee shops, on airplanes, at the park. I even used to write in the middle of class. Writing makes me happy, it makes me...me. And sometimes stumbling back upon your own "me" is pretty nice.

That's what happened tonight. I gathered up these journals, flipped through the pages and stumbled back upon my own "me".

On a piece of paper torn from one journal and tucked into another, dated in 2006, I found this:
"He wants to keep her forever
with her head on his pillow
and her body between his sheets.
He would give up everything else
just to lay there,
living the rest of his life
in her eyes
and through her breathing,
traveling along the curves
of her body
with his fingers
and his hands,
careful to leave her dreaming -
forever."

Then on another (undated) page in another journal I found this:
"In an itty bitty town, in an itty bitty house, lives an itty bitty ant with an itty bitty head and itty bitty hands and a large apple named Appleonia (well a regular-sized apple, but to him it's giant)."

Then this:
"Jenny Chalk
Jenny Chalk
Jenny Chalk
Jennifer Chalk
Jenny Chalk"
(I like practicing my signature.)

As I type these out I'm already editing them in my mind. What will become of the couple in their bed of forever? What does the future hold for the itty bitty ant and his large apple? What will happen to Jenny Chalk?

You'll have to wait and see, and so will I.

I love...leopard print.

My obsession with leopard print started in college.

First I got a leopard print purse. Then a tank top. Then it was my bed sheets and comforter. I found a leopard print dress that I wore for a birthday. Then I'd borrow my roommate's leopard print pants. I found some sweaters, a lamp shade, gloves, a scarf, an address book, jewelery, a cute winter hat...

Turns out you can find pretty much anything in leopard print.

Over time I have learned an important lesson about leopard print: Less is more. You don't need to wear a pair of leopard print gloves, hat, purse and jacket all at once. Try just the gloves. Or just carry the purse. Maybe just a jacket with some small leopard print detail.


Some of my original leopard print belongings are no longer with me, like my comforter that was outgrown by my bed. And my tank top that got old and worn. And my leopard print halter dress that I never should have owned (oh, did I not mention that it was a halter dress? um, yea...college?). Then other items have been updated, like my original purse that was given away and eventually replaced with a small leopard print clutch. Or my scarf that I eventually lost and replaced with a new leopard print scarf.

Tonight as I changed my clothes before heading over to a friend's house for dinner, I realized the weather had gotten just chilly enough to wear my comfy, leopard print sweater. This reminded me of another lesson I've learned about leopard print: Every day should have a little bit of leopard print in it.

I hope your day is full of love, laughter and just the right amount of leopard print!

I love...aging.

As I type this, I am one year older than the last time I typed here.

Well, I guess I'm officially one week older...but what I'm trying to say is that I've had a birthday!

Of course, with a birthday comes an increase in age. So yes, I've aged. And I love it.

Some people look at aging as growing another year older. I like to look at it as gaining another year.

It's another year of knowing long-time friends. Like this year when a friend took me out for a birthday dinner and pointed out that we've now known each other for 16 years.

It's another year of learning new things about yourself. Like the year I learned that I liked pickles when I forgot to pick them off my cheeseburger.

It's another year of overcoming your fears. Like the year I sang at my first open mic night.

It's another year of meeting new friends. Like the year I went off to college and met some of my best friends. Or the year I moved back to Cleveland and met some more of my best friends.

It's another year of inside jokes. Great movies. Wonderful songs. Good choices. Bad choices. New beginnings.
It's another year for you to make even better than the year before.

My newest year started off with good friends, sunny skies, a dance party and karaoke.
It was a great start to another year that is full of possibilities...

  

I love...weekend stories.

This weekend I slept with a pilot.

Okay, I guess I should probably start from the beginning of my weekend to explain how this came about. Here's what happened...

Friday I woke up with a bit of a cold. I'd felt it coming on for a couple days, but Friday it was in full force. This was a bummer since I had a wedding to go to over the weekend, so I decided to push through and ignore it. Friday night I went to ABC Tavern in Ohio City to celebrate my friends' 30th, 31st and 32nd birthdays. I gifted them each with a light-up yo-yo...I think they enjoyed them (yo? yo!). I made it somewhat of an early night since I was getting up extra early the next morning to catch a flight to Charlotte, NC for the wedding.

Saturday morning I was up before the sun. My cold was still hanging around, but I continued to ignore it. I got to the airport and flew to Charlotte with no problems. Some family friends were kind enough to pick me up and let me stay with them. We had lunch, caught up and then got ready for the wedding. The wedding was for my friends Adam & Kelly. It was a wonderful, outdoor wedding, the bride was beautiful and they both looked so happy! The reception was a great time and I got to see a lot of people that I hadn't seen in awhile. We drank. We danced. We sang. We stayed up late. And we spoke with fancy accents and used our fingers as fake monocles (I do declare it was hilarious!). Congratulations to Adam & Kelly!

Then that brings us to Sunday. I woke up and that sneaky cold was still hanging around - and now it was angry that I'd been ignoring it, but with the weekend coming to a close I was no longer concerned with ignoring it. I said farewell to my friends, got to the airport, made my way through security, bought a large orange juice and, in somewhat of a cold-haze, I found a seat at my gate. Sitting next to me was a little boy in a Josh Cribbs jersey trying to charm a nearby stranger for candy. I, however, had no interest in candy, I had only visions of sleeping on the plane dancing in my head. Finally we were able to board. It was a small plane and a full flight, I watched as seats filled up all around me, little Cribbs walked on the plane and sat behind me, but the seat right next to me remained empty. Just as I thought I'd managed to find the row with the only open seat on the plane, a man in a pilot uniform walked through the door. He spoke with the flight attendant and she pointed toward the open seat next to me. He walked back, smiled, but just before he sat down the flight attendant told him he was allowed to sit in the cockpit if he'd like. He declined, stating that he was okay in the seat and was planning to fall asleep. As soon as he said that, I knew we'd get along wonderfully. I think I was asleep before the flight attendant finished telling us where the emergency exits were located, my cold had finally won. The next thing I remember is little Cribbs screaming and kicking at the back of my seat. Apparently the candy he'd acquired earlier was now kicking in. As my eyes opened, I realized I'd slept for most of the flight. I slowly picked my head up and looked to my right to find the pilot was also asleep with his head almost touching mine.

So that's the story of my weekend and how after all of the birthday-partying, wedding-celebrating and cold-ignoring, I finally ended it by sleeping on a plane, with a pilot.

I love...polite road rage.

My drive home from work today was...frustrating. I started on my usual route, but some roads were closed and every turn I took turned out to be the wrong turn. And with every wrong turn there was traffic, traffic and more traffic.

Several years ago this would have been no problem. I used to be the person letting everyone merge, letting everyone turn and patiently waiting as the person in front of me scooted down the road at 5MPH.

But that all changed and somewhere along the line I developed a small case of road rage.


To be clear, I don't have the chasing people down the highway, running them off the road type of road rage. Mine is more of a "polite" road rage.




For example, I often catch myself yelling things like:

• "Share the road, please!" (when someone isn't letting me merge on the highway)
• "I'm not going to send you an invitation!" (when the person in the lane next to me with their blinker on isn't moving over as quickly as I would like)
• "Oh please, after you!" (sarcastically - when someone cuts me off)

Then there was the time I was driving my sister Lisa to Columbus to see our family. There we were on I-71 South, nice weather, no traffic, and the guy in the car behind me could not have been any closer to my car's bumper unless he was sitting on it. I watched him in my rear view, then looked away and chatted with Lisa. I looked again, he was still there. I was in the middle lane, the lanes on either side of me were wide open, what was he doing? Still, I remained calm. Lisa and I chatted about something that she then began to look up on Facebook. I looked again...he was still there! That's when I couldn't take anymore and I yelled: "What do you want, sir?!" Though the tone of my voice made Lisa look as though she wanted to jump out the car window, it was what I actually yelled that made us laugh till we cried. That went on for about five minutes, and somewhere in that time the guy behind me realized there was more than one lane on the highway and he passed me.

As for today's traffic situation, I managed to make it home while only dropping a few "P "& "S" words ("please" & "sir").

So the next time you're driving with me in traffic get ready to tip your hat or curtsy your butt off, because being frustrated doesn't mean you can't still be polite.

I love...dream-dating celebrities.

Everyone's talking about the news of Beyonce & Jay-Z expecting their first child, which was revealed on last night's MTV Video Music Awards. An exciting announcement for the couple, though when I heard the news I couldn't help but think of several years back when Jay-Z and I dated...in my dreams.

Yep, Jay-Z somehow made his way onto the list of celebrities that I have dream-dated.
Here's our story:
We were a serious item in this particular dream. He came over to my house to watch a movie, but then took a call on his cell and when he hung up he told me that Mariah Carey was coming over to watch the movie with us. I was annoyed at this addition to our date night, but decided to stay calm and go with it. Then Mariah showed up and Jay-Z sat next to her during the movie, instead of next to me! Can you believe it?! Needless to say, Jay-Z and I haven't been on dreaming terms since.

But life (err, dreaming) goes on! I had a few other brief and random dream-romances, including:

50 Cent
50 and I had an "on again, off again" thing. It all started when his song "Just a lil' bit" was really popular. In my dream he kept telling me to do random, day-to-day things "just a lil' bit". For example: "Close the window just a lil' bit ... a lil' bit more ... a lil' bit more" or "Move that chair just a lil' bit". I got so frustrated that we had our first dream-fight when I told him: "50, I'm getting really annoyed, just tell me what the end result is supposed to be here! Window up, window closed? Chair over here, chair over there?"
We met up again at a movie theater a few dreams later, but it was too late because at that point I was out on a date with my new guy...Nick Lachey.

Nick Lachey
Nick and I went to see a movie together. We shared some popcorn, then we held hands and he walked me to my car. Umm...that was pretty much it. Our dream-relationship didn't last very long. It wasn't him, it was me...or maybe it was him...or maybe it was my alarm clock.

Now that I think about it, it's been a while since I last dream-dated a celebrity. I think I'm due for a new one. Fingers crossed for a dream-date with Justin Timberlake or Ryan Gosling sometime soon!
Actually, what time is it? 8:01 p.m.?
That's not too early to go to sleep, is it?

I love...smiling.

There's an old saying that goes: "Smile, it holds up your eyes!"

Haven't heard it before? Well, now ya have. Curious as to where this saying came from? It was started just over 10 years ago, in a dorm room, by a girl named Jenny Chalk.

To me, smiling is pretty uncontrollable. You wake up, you see a friend, you hear a joke, you see the sunset, you see a puppy, you hear a Prince song...okay, maybe that last one is just me. But still, whenever possible, why not smile instead of frown?

Sure there are moments where smiling is the last thing on your mind, or on your face. And some of those moments last longer than others. But after all is said and done, again I ask - why not smile?

Your smile could be the smile that causes another smile, that causes another smile, that causes yet another smile, and eventually there are a lot of smiles - and one day when you need a smile to get you out of a bad moment then your smile karma will be coming back around.

Still not convinced that smiling is all that great? Try making yourself a list of reasons to smile.
Here are some examples from my list:

My family
My friends
Prince
Pizza
Shel Silverstein
Puppies
Other people's smiles
Giggles
Great songs
Love

But if you still can't find even one good reason to smile, then smile for your eyes...cause something has to hold them up on your face.

"Smile, it holds up your eyes!" -Jenny Chalk

I love...bobby pins.

Over the past few years I've enjoyed using bobby pins to try out some different hairstyles. I'll pin my hair into a high bun, a messy bun, half up, I even had a brief affair with the Snooki-style pouf (well, it was more like a mini-Snooki-style pouf).

Eventually the bobby pin became my new best friend. I bought them in bulk, and it wasn't long before bobby pins took over my life.

It started out innocently enough. I'd climb into bed and realize I still had a bobby pin in my hair, so I'd place it on my nightstand. Or I'd be getting ready to leave and throw a couple in my purse in case my hair needed reinforcement later in the day. Or I'd be holding five in my hand and one would slip out onto the floor without me even noticing.

Now there is probably a bobby pin in every purse I own. There are bobby pins on my nightstand, on my floor, in my car, in the street next to my car, in my pockets, in my desk drawer at work. Sometimes I'll be in a checkout line and take my wallet out of my purse, only to accidentally fling a bobby pin across the counter...they're everywhere. If I'm ever lost, it's probably a fair bet that you can follow a trail of bobby pins to find me.

But they do their job and they keep my hair in place. And if MacGyver is ever looking for a sidekick, he can always call on me: Bobby Pin Girl! I'll always have a bobby pin to help him pick a lock or diffuse a bomb...or to keep his hair out of his face while he picks a lock or diffuses a bomb.

I love...ending bad jokes.

You may find this hard to believe, but sometimes I manage to tell a bad joke. I know, I know...that sounds impossible, but it's true.

Perhaps this happens to you, too? Well, the next time you're in the midst of telling a joke that you realize is not going to end well...never fear, Jenny's Bad-Joke-Ending Suggestion is here!

Here's an example of a bad joke, followed by my suggested ending:
"Hey, don't stand under that garage door ... cause it might fall on you!" Then, just before the crickets set in, I follow it up with a finger point, an awkward hip shimmy and a weird sounding 'Haha aahhh!'

That way I break up the silence and people don't remember me as the girl who told a bad joke.

Instead I guess they remember me as the girl who dances awkwardly and makes weird noises.

I can live with that.

I love...Zukey.

This weekend I watched my friend Cami's dog. His name is Zukey (short for Zucchini), and he's pretty awesome. Here are some highlights from: The Jenny & Zukey Weekend of August 2011!

FRIDAY
I picked Zukey up after work and got him settled into my apartment. I have a bright pink floor pillow that I put out to make him feel comfortable. I think it worked.

SATURDAY
We woke up earlier than I enjoyed, which led to a late morning nap on the couch. Then I took Zukey for a long walk around Tremont. He peed on everything in sight. A couple in a car stopped to ask what kind of dog he was, I told them he was a miniature pinscher. They didn't believe me because they didn't think he had the right coloring for a miniature pinscher. I told them I was pretty sure he was a pinscher, but he wasn't my dog and I could be wrong. Hours later I thought of an even better comeback: "Hey, don't question me!" Later that afternoon we watched Sex & the City while I painted my nails. I think Zukey is an Aidan fan.

SUNDAY
My friend, Carrie, is moving out of her downtown apartment in a couple of weeks, so Zukey and I went to keep her company as she's now in serious packing mode. On the walk to her place Zukey and I took a detour by where "The Avengers" is being filmed on East 9th Street, hoping to catch a glimpse of Robert Downey, Jr. We also walked by a hotel where a valet guy knelt down to pet Zukey. I chatted with him for a minute, but then he exceeded his "appropriate petting of a random dog on the street" time, so Zukey and I moved on. We hung out at Carrie's for a bit, then got hungry and all three of us headed back to Tremont for a calzone from Edison's (delish!).

Then the text came through...Cami was back in town and ready to reclaim her lil' doggy.

I had two options:
1) Tell her I was home and she could come pick him up.
2) Not respond and hope she'll eventually forget that I had him.

I went with #1.

But here's looking forward to The Jenny & Zukey Weekend of August 2012!

I love...growing up.

When I was little I wanted to grow up to be a Barbie.

I loved my Barbies with their perfect make-up, their clothes, their accessories, their constant 90 degree-angle arms…but I digress. I wasn’t sure exactly what “growing up” meant or when I had to do it by, but I was sure that adult-Jenny would love to grow up to be a Barbie.

Somewhere between then and now I started to grow up. I went to college, made great friends, moved out on my own, got a job and then another job, and I continued to ask myself what I wanted to be when I grew up.

But with all the concern around figuring out what to be when you grow up, maybe there's a second question that we're supposed to be asking ourselves along the way: What do I want to be while I grow up?

Sure, it's important to find a goal in life. But what will you be while you're working towards it?

Will you be kind?

Will you be funny?

Will you fall down?

Will you get back up?

Will you love?

Sound like simple questions? Maybe they're supposed to be.

So as I continue “growing up” I’m going to enjoy what I’m doing along the way.
My own wish list? Well, I want to be kind, I want to be funny, and when I fall down I want to get back up. I want to be giving, I want to be calm and I want to love. I want to be understanding, I want to be goofy and I want to be honest. I want to be Jenny.

And maybe, every once in awhile, I'll still check the job boards for a position listed under: "Barbie". I can be "Happy Barbie" or "Jenny Barbie". I'll practice holding my arms at 90 degree angles, just in case.

I love...aprons.

I'm not much of a cook. At my old apartment, it was a friend who discovered my oven was broken when she tried to prepare some food before a party.

However, I do enjoy wearing an apron. Especially after my friend Colleen bought me this adorable one with cupcake designs on it for my birthday a few years back (she also happens to be the same friend who discovered my broken oven - wonder if she was trying to tell me something?).

Sometimes I wear it when I'm washing dishes. Or when I'm cutting up vegetables. Or when I'm warming up leftovers in the microwave. Or when I'm making macaroni and cheese. Or when I'm dancing around my kitchen trying to decide what to eat.

It makes me feel fancy...and chef-y, which makes me want to try cooking and baking more often.

I wore it the last time my parents came in for an Easter visit. I was baking some of those easy cookies where they're already sliced and ready, you just have to put them on a tray and pop them in the oven. I had already put the cookies in the oven when my parents arrived, so I greeted them in my fancy apron and we caught up a bit. I kept checking on the cookies, but they always seemed like they needed just a few more minutes, so I left them a few more and a few more and then, well, I burned those "easy" cookies. My dad told me not to worry. He said they just tasted like burnt popcorn.

As far as my cooking skills go, hopefully practice will make perfect.
But until then, if I'm going to burn things, at least I'm doing it in a fancy apron.

I love...the "!"

Ah, the exclamation point!

It's a shout of excitement wrapped up in an upside down "i".
It's the hot sauce of an email, or the fireworks of a text message.
Where's the party? It's at the end of this sentence...!

I'm aware that I may tend to overuse the exclamation point (if that's even possible), but I want people to know when I'm happy or excited about something. And I'm happy or excited about a lot of things. Sometimes I try to monitor and/or decrease my exclamation point usage, but it's difficult to decide when to keep it and when to lose it.
Just look at the difference an exclamation point makes in the responses to the following question:
Q: "Want to meet for dinner at 7?"
A1: "Okay." <read: "Fine, that's not the time I would have picked, but whatever.">
OR
A2: "Okay!" <read: "I'll be there, can't wait!">

There's a lot of emotion in that little exclamation point. If you're full of emotion, too, then I say go ahead and use that exclamation point until you wear the "!" off of the button on your keyboard.

Happy Wednesday. I mean, Happy Wednesday!

I love...vacation.

I spent last week on vacation, hence my lack of new posts.

I was in Hilton Head, SC with my family and some family friends for most of the week, then we drove to my parent's house in Hickory, NC and then drove to Nashville, TN for my cousin's wedding. It was a great vacation!

Since I didn't post anything new throughout the week, please accept these vacay tidbits to make up for it:

Airplanes
On an airplane I prefer the window seat. You can watch as the ground beneath you gets smaller and smaller and then finally you're up in the clouds. For that time on the plane you're in limbo from where you just left and where you're about to go - and you can look out to the clouds and dream of what's to come. On my flight out to Hilton Head we happened to be up in the clouds as the sun was setting. The sky was pink and it looked like we were flying through clouds of cotton candy. After we landed I got my bags and walked out of the airport with a stomach full of airplane peanuts and a head full of cotton candy dreams.

Beach
My Beach List:
Beach chair - check
Beach towel - check
Beach book - check
Beach beers - checkity-check-check 

A Good Book
I like to have a good book to read on vacation. This particular vacation I headed to the airport with some old books to read, but wanted to find a new one at the last minute. I stopped in the airport bookstore and went in search of one particular book. Unfortunately they didn't have it in the store, but the person helping me suggested another book I might like - "God Never Blinks" by Regina Brett. I skimmed it, bought it and I didn't like it...I loved it. It's a book about 50 life lessons that Regina Brett has learned so far and had posted in her column in The Plain Dealer. The first lesson had me tearing up by the pool and a later lesson had me laughing on the beach. If you haven't already read it - I highly recommend it. It was just what I needed on this vacay.

Mean Girls in White Dresses
One afternoon I was heading up from the pool to get ready for dinner. As I approached the elevators in the parking garage of our building I noticed two little blond girls in white sundresses standing outside the elevator doors. They were holding one of the elevators open and smiled at me as they said, "You can get on this one!" I smiled back as I stepped on the elevator, "Well, thank you!" - what sweet little girls. I went to press the button for my floor and that's when I saw it, someone had pressed all of the floor buttons. Those little girls in white! I quickly stuck my arm out to stop the doors from closing and jumped out just in time to see the girls turn the corner with their arms around each other - giggling. I waited a moment and then pushed the button for a new elevator. While I waited, the two little girls came back around the corner (ready for their next victim, I'm sure) and they looked stunned when they saw me standing there. "Hello, girls," I said with a smile.

Nice Girls in White Dresses
On Saturday my cousin Stephanie married her husband Allen in Nashville. It was a lovely ceremony, my cousin looked beautiful (I could go on and on about her dress) and they threw an amazing reception with lots of personal touches, delicious food, dancing and sparklers. It was a great day - congratulations, Stephanie & Allen!

New Friends
My family arrived in Nashville on Friday evening. We ate a quick dinner in the hotel restaurant and then my sister Lisa and I decided to grab a drink at the hotel bar. That's where we met Gary Plummer, a former pro basketball player. He bought us a drink, we chatted (he, of course, brought up LeBron), then he convinced us to go out in downtown Nashville with him. We cabbed it to the bars together, waited in line together, got a drink together and then...Lisa and I lost track of our new BFF. However, we woke up with some lil' headaches to remember him by the next morning. 

Coming Home
I do enjoy a vacation. It's nice to take a break, go somewhere else and spend time with family and friends. But there's something about driving down the highway, seeing the Cleveland skyline and knowing I'm almost home. On Sunday, I went from the airport to my friend's house in Parma to pick up my car. She caught me up on what I missed while I was gone. Then I headed home. As I got closer I saw the Cleveland skyline and decided to take a detour to drive through downtown and get reacquainted with my city. Then I headed back to Tremont to see if my apartment had melted in the Cleveland heat while I was gone. It hadn't. It was there waiting for me to come home.

That night I fell asleep with memories of a great vacation and some cotton candy dreams still lingering in my head.

I love...J/K.

When people started saying J/K (instead of "just kidding") a while back, I would say it as an "I can't believe people are saying this instead of just using the actual words"-type of joke. However, once I started, I couldn't stop.

Since then I've been J/K-ing all over the place. At parties, at work, at restaurants (one waiter was very confused on what my real order was by the end of our conversation). During my last birthday party I managed to J/K my sisters through the many stages of "J/K":
Stage 1: That's funny
Stage 2: Now it's annoying
Stage 3: Now it's funny how annoying that is

Maybe it's time for me to move on past all the J/K-ing? Maybe it's time I get serious? No more jokes, no more abbreviations...

...J/K, J/K!

I love...my gray high heels.

I have this pair of really cute, round toe, gray high heels. I could walk around the city in them for hours without any pain. I love them and I wear them...a lot.

Unfortunately, my love is starting to take it's toll on them. Today I noticed that they don't stand up very straight anymore when they're placed on the floor. I can hear the heels squeaking when I walk. And if you look closely you might think that I let an animal chew on the heels as there are tiny marks all over them.

But still, I love them.

I know there's the chance that one day I'll be in an accidental re-creation of this Mentos commercial, but I can't stop wearing them quite yet. So until that day, whenever I wear those heels I will walk carefully and I will carry an emergency pack of Mentos with me wherever I go.

I love...early morning car-aoke.

Here is a scene from "Jenny Chalk: July 12, 2011":

It's not even 8:30 in the morning yet, I'm sitting in traffic, not moving, though the clock seems to be moving twice as fast as the rest of the world. I'm remembering that wonderful time from two hours earlier when I was laying in bed, still sleeping. Then I flip the radio channel and hear this:

...and suddenly I'm wide awake!

Pick on me if you like, but I've been an Aerosmith fan for a long time and though Steven Tyler is on his own with this song I'm still a fan of that voice.

So there I am, fresh off the highway, windows down, waiting for the car in front of me to realize the light is green, but it doesn't matter because I'm holding an imaginary microphone, shaking my hair and singing at the top of my lungs!

Yes, this morning I was lovin' me some karaoke in the car (or some car-aoke)!

Hopefully the guy sitting in the car next to me was loving it, too.

(Note: I would have posted this about twenty minutes earlier, but I couldn't stop re-playing this song.)

I love...magic money pants.

Okay, as far as I know there's no such thing as magic money pants, but if there was then I would love them.

Instead I'll settle for a close second: ...finding forgotten money in a pair of pants, which is what happened to me today. I was wearing a pair of jeans, reached into the back pocket and found a $10 bill! This discovery added a little extra happy to my day. It was like I made money just for putting on pants!




In fact, I'm going to suggest that you go into your closet and put some money in a random pair of your pants right now...your future self will love it!

I love...Shel Silverstein.

If I could have a dinner party with any three celebrities, living or dead, the first one I'd call is Shel Silverstein*.

There is so much to love about him, where to begin?

I'll start with "The Giving Tree", which is still one of my favorite books. In elementary school I was in a play where we acted that story out and I was the tree! (I should note that my parents don't recall this play, which either means I didn't tell them about it at the time or it was a dream, but either way...I was the tree!) If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it. And of course there are his many other books, like "Where the Sidewalk Ends" and "A Light in the Attic", just to name a few.

As if his books alone aren't a good enough reason to love him, here is some "did you know" info about ol' Shel:

• He wrote songs, including "The Cover of the Rolling Stone" (which was featured in one of my favorite movies: "Almost Famous").
• He drew cartoons for Playboy magazine.
• He and I were both born on September 25th.

Shel Silverstein was a big inspiration for me as I grew up and got into writing. He didn't fit into one mold. He wrote for both children and adults. He wrote things that didn't always make sense, but that you couldn't forget. He made it okay to let your imagination completely take over.

Today I have some of his books placed around my apartment - available to be read at any moment. And hanging above my desk is one of his poems that reads:
"Listen to the mustn'ts, child.
Listen to the don'ts.
Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossible the won'ts.
Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me...
Anthing can happen, child.
Anything can be."

I love it, and I'm listening to you, Shel!

(*Note: If you're wondering...the second celebrity invited to my dinner party would be Prince and the third celebrity is TBD.)

I love...the letter "U".

I have always been a fan of the song "You've Really Got a Hold On Me". Originally done by The Miracles, there have been several covers of the song since and earlier today I was listening to this cover by She & Him:

But I can never hear the song without remembering the first time I heard it...on Sesame Street. Not familiar with that episode? Watch as Smokey Robinson sings the song and meets a very persistent letter "U":

I loved that skit as a kid! And even now I still find it pretty entertaining, well, now I find it entertaining with a dash of creepy when the U won't leave him alone, but in the end they seem to be friends...so the U can't be that bad.

I love...long weekends.

As I set my alarm to wake up for work tomorrow, I'm thinking about Friday and how it seems like forever ago. Having an extra day off of work makes the weekend even better and with the holiday there were plenty of activities to fill up the extra time. Here are some of my weekend highlights:

Friday
I made my second visit to the newly opened Market Garden Brewery on West 25th Street (which should actually have it's own "I love..." post from me, because I love it there). The place was packed and the beer was delicious. Eventually we made our way down the street to the Garage Bar patio and then visited ABC Tavern for a game of pool to end the night. As far as Ohio City goes, the USA Today article is true.

Saturday
I went to an all-day cookout in Tremont. We ate some good food, played cornhole, drew pictures with chalk on the sidewalk, gave beer to a wedding party taking pictures in the park across the street and cheered every time a passing car honked in response to the "Honk for the USA" sign in the front yard. The night ended with us getting caught in a thunderstorm - so, wet and tired, I made it home in time to catch the end of a Saturday Night Live rerun.

Sunday
I went for a run and then quickly negated the exercise by getting Taco Bell with a friend. We ate while watching episodes of Parks & Recreation. It was a funny & delicious afternoon - it was funlicious. That night I had dinner at another friend's house and headed back out in Tremont to celebrate a 30th birthday.

Monday
And finally, there was today! I spent the day at a cookout/pool party, which was actually a cookout/"one person got in the pool while the rest of us sat in a circle around the pool" party. Then a few of us went downtown to watch some fireworks from a friend's apartment. Unfortunately, a building blocked most of our view, but the fireworks sounded great.

I hope you all had a safe, happy and looong 4th of July weekend!
Now I'm going to bed. Good night, weekend.

I love...not being on fire.

Today my hair dryer tried to kill me.

Seriously.

I plugged it into the bathroom outlet...nothing.
Hit the reset button...nothing.
I tried a different outlet...nothing.
Then I tried yet another outlet...success! The hairdryer turned on. I flipped my hair over and started the drying process...until 10 seconds later when - "sizzle, sizzle, crackle" - my hair dryer stopped running.

Not only did it stop running, but some small orange sparks flew from the dryer, through my hair and toward my wooden floor. As I watched the sparks in slow motion, these thoughts went through my head:

• I'm not wearing shoes, how will I stomp out a fire?
• Is my hair on fire?
• Guess I'm wearing my hair wavy today.

In the end the sparks did nothing; they went out before even hitting the floor (phew!).

I survived, but alas, my hair dryer is about to meet the dumpster.

Better luck next time, hair dryer!

I love...lightning bugs.

There are a lot of things that remind me of when I was just a wee little Jenny.

Cookie dough reminds me of licking the mixers clean.

Making the bed reminds me of how my mom used to stand at the foot of the bed while I stood at the head of the bed, and she'd throw the sheet up into the air so I could run under it.

Wheelbarrows remind me of my dad pushing me around the house in our wheelbarrow when he was outside doing yard work.

Then there are lightning bugs. When it got dark on a summer night - there they were. Tiny, blinking lights flying through the air. My grandparents had given my sisters and I a couple of small, wooden lightning bug houses and if you caught a lightning bug you could put it in there and hold the blinking light in your hands.

You had to stand still, set your sights on a lightning bug and follow its path. Light on - light off - light on. Usually I'd manage to catch several of them and they'd climb all over that little lightning bug house. Then when it was time for me to go inside I'd let them all go.

My favorite part wasn't necessarily catching the lightning bugs and it wasn't necessarily watching them climb around in the little house. My favorite part was letting them go and watching them light up the night sky together. It was like an awesome ending to an awesome movie, and the awesome movie was my day. There was something so hopeful about it, something so "until next time, lightning bugs".

Tonight while walking home, I saw a couple lightning bugs and realized it had been a while since I'd seen one. Or maybe it had just been a while since I'd noticed one. I held my hand out and the bug quickly landed and then took off again, blinking into the night. And I loved it just as much as I used to when I was little.

So until next time, try to take some time to sit and watch for lightning bugs. They could be anywhere, just waiting for you to notice them as they fly higher and higher...

I love...dancing.

According to thefreedictionary.com, "dancing" is defined as:

1. To move rhythmically usually to music, using prescribed or improvised steps and gestures.

2.

a. To leap or skip about excitedly.

b. To appear to flash or twinkle: eyes that danced with merriment.

Well, I love to dance...so I guess that means I love appearing to "flash" or "twinkle"? And I can guarantee that my steps are always improvised.

Some people may think that dancing should be kept on a dance floor, at weddings, at clubs, etc. But personally, I think dancing works just about anywhere. If we learned anything from "Footloose" - it's that dancing can't be stopped!

So you may find me dancing at a bar, at the grocery store, in my car, or at my apartment (on my couch). And I'll probably be dancing to songs like this:

Or this:

Or this (yay, Prince!):

Orrr this:

Hope to see you "leaping or skipping about excitedly" sometime soon on the dance floor...or in the frozen food aisle...or on my couch.

Ready, set, DANCE!

I love..."Once Upon a Time."

I’ve been thinking about this blog for a long time. I knew I wanted to write about life and all the crazy, funny, random, great things that I love about it, but how to start it? Would people like it? Would people love it…would I love it?

I love writing, but every time I sat down to start on this blog-venture I’d freeze up: That one is too cheesy. That one is too long. That one is too “whatever.” It was like the Goldilocks of blogs.

I was stuck in the process of write, delete, wait, repeat.
Then I sat down and wrote this: 

“Once upon a time there was a girl named Jenny Chalk, and this is her blog.”

And it was just right.

So, I’m Jenny (you can call me Chalk), it’s nice to e-meet you. And this is my blog - from me, to you. I hope you like it, or even love it.

Love,
Chalk