I love...boy bands.

I peed in a men's bathroom on Sunday.

 

But more on that later. Right now I'm going to name a few bands: Boyz II Men; 98 Degrees; Fleetwood Mac; New Kids on the Block.

 

Three of those bands played a show together at the Q in Cleveland on Sunday night. I'll let you guess the combo...okay, stop guessing, the show didn't include Fleetwood Mac.

 

It was The Package Tour! And though I continued to accidentally say we were going to see Boyz II Men, 98 Degrees, and 'NSYNC (seriously...even yesterday I was telling my co-worker a story about the show and she had to correct me), I was still excited for the chance to see these groups that I never saw when I was younger.

 

Opening the show was...Boyz II Men! And they can still sing their booties off. A little End of the Road, a dash of Motownphilly - so great. I should add that this moment of seeing Boyz II Men was making up for years ago when they were supposed to be my first concert, but my parents decided I couldn't go because it would keep me out too late on a school night. Granted they definitely are now "Men", but I was finally at their show and I was able to legally drink a beer while there.

 

Following the Boyz was...98 Degrees! During their set I had several thoughts, which I'll list here:

1) Wow, Nick Lachey and his dimples do NOT age.

2) These guys still make women swoon (myself included).

3) I find it awkward when there's one guy in a boy band who, while the other band members are stripping off their vests and shirts, doesn't even take off his heavy blazer.

4) There are some songs that singing along to is just like riding a bike. No matter how long it's been, you hear the first note and the words come back to you. That was the case for me and 98 Degrees' song "Give Me Just One Night (Una Noche)". The song also brought back memories of how I used to sing: "Give me just one night...and a nacho!" #incorrect

 

After the heat from 98 Degrees, there was a break before our eardrums and vocal chords were about to be pushed to their limit. It was time for...New Kids on the Block (NKOTB)! (*no lie, I just typed "'NSYNC!"...what is my problem??) Never being to a NKOTB show before, I wasn't sure what to expect. I imagined some side stepping, some hand clapping, maybe some arm waving. Indeed there was all of that, plus even more...

 



NKOTB!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One thing I immediately learned is that Donnie Wahlberg works out and he's not afraid to show it...at some moments I thought I was at a live performance of Magic Mike. And I didn't hate it. In fact, you know how people say "I wouldn't want to run into him in a dark alley" when they're scared by someone? Well instead I'll say "I wouldn't mind running into Donnie in a dark alley". Shortly after I had this thought Donnie ripped off his shirt and threw it into the crowd, which is when two women grabbed it and began pummeling each other in the head to keep it. At that time I decided that I would not want to run into those two women in a dark alley filled with Donnie's sweaty shirts. Still the show continued on. They did a quick medley of popular songs that were not their own...including "Kiss" by Prince (I was in heaven)! Then after more singing, dancing, screaming, and running in and out of the crowd while narrowly escaping womens' grasps, NKOTB ended the show.

 

Our ears ringing, we left and passed several bars while walking to our car, but we didn't stop for a drink. I mean it was after 11pm, on a work night. My parents would have been so proud. Instead I went home with boyband songs playing in my head.

 

The End...

 

...oh wait! If you're still reading you might be in search of the reason I peed in a men's bathroom. Well, it's because the Q was smart. They figured with a crowd of mostly women it was a good idea to increase the women's bathroom situation, which they did by decreasing the men's bathroom situation. So after 98 Degrees when there was a rush for the bathrooms, my friend and I followed a short line into a bathroom labeled "Women". However we all came to a stop when we were greeted by a wall full of urinals. After several doubletakes we realized the bathroom signs had been switched out and for that night boy bands may have ruled the stage, but women ruled the Q!

Okay, now it's really The End (...of the Road).

I love...random short story Sunday (#4).

Hello, friends! Here we are: another Sunday with another random short story from my random collection of short stories...just like the random short story Sundays that have come before it!

 

This story actually would have been more fitting a week ago on St. Patrick's Day...but I was downtown most of the day, enjoying the holiday with random beverages. And really, who would have remembered reading it on that day anyway? So instead you get it today. Cheers!

 

 

Oscar's St. Patrick's Day

by: jenny chalk

 

Once upon a time, in a land right under your feet, there was an ant named Oscar.

 

Oscar was the happiest ant in his town. He always smiled at the other ants he passed on the street and he whistled a happy little tune while he worked in his yard. In fact, all the ants in Oscar's town called him, "Oscar, the happiest ant you'd ever want to meet who smiles and whistles" (the ants had to be careful not to get Oscar confused with "Simon, the sleaziest ant you'd never want to meet who smiles and whistles").

 

One day (March 17th to be exact) Oscar was walking down the street and smiling at the other ants, when he heard a large group of ants laughing and singing inside a local pub.

 

"Sounds like a great time in there," Oscar thought to himself. So he walked in.

All the ants in the pub were dancing around, wearing green clothing and green beads. Some ants even had green stickers on their faces and green top hats on their heads. Oscar walked up to the bar, "What's going on?" he asked, "Is it green day?"

"No," the bar-ant replied.

"Is it top hat day?" Oscar continued.

"No."

"Is it recycling day?"

"No," the bar-ant replied, "It's Saint Patrick's Day!"

"What is Saint Patrick's Day?" said Oscar with a confused look on his face.

 

"It's a new thing we're starting this year," explained the bar-ant, "we all celebrate by drinking too many green beverages and wearing too much green stuff and then everyone falls asleep in random places around town and we wake up tomorrow wearing the same clothes we have on today. I read about it on the Anternet."

 

"Wow," said Oscar, "Sounds harmless, I think I'll give it a try."

 

And with that Oscar joined in on the celebration. He bought a green beverage, borrowed some green beads from other ants and put half his paycheck into the jukebox, playing Usher's song 'Yeah' as many times as he could. The last thing he remembered was telling an ant he'd never seen before that he was awesome and challenging another ant to who could hold their breath the longest.

 

The following morning Oscar woke up in a tree. Well, he woke up sometime between falling from the tree to the ground. "Ouch," mumbled Oscar. He stood up, rubbing at his antenna, and looked at the town clock..."NOON?!" he shouted.

 

Oscar crossed his arms and stumbled back to his house. As he passed other ants on the street they waved and yelled, "Hi, Oscar!" This did not make Oscar happy. He didn't smile, he didn't wave, he just put his hands to his temples and grumbled at the other ants to be quiet.

 

From that point on March 18th became known as Oscar the Grouch Day.

 

As soon as Oscar got home he showered, drank some water, took some tylenol, and closed all his blinds before getting ready to go to bed. But before he crawled into his bed he marked down March 17th on his calendar for the following year: "St. Patrick's Day!" And he added a green smiley face.

 

The End

I love...straw wrappers.

Today I got a pop...a soda pop...a fountain soda pop, to be more specific. I don't normally drink pop, so this was a special treat. But the pop itself wasn't the only treat, because along with the pop I got a straw for sipping purpose, and along with the straw came a wrapper. So you know what that means...it was time to find out if someone was thinking about me!

That's right, you don't need a fortune teller or a crystal ball to find out if someone is thinking about you. All you need is a straw wrapper.

It's easy. You remove your straw from the wrapper, tie the empty wrapper in a knot, and if the knot breaks then someone is thinking about you (happy face), or if it doesn't break then no one is thinking about you (sad face).

Or, wait, is it if the knot does break then someone is thinking about you or if it doesn't break then someone is thinking about you...?


That's the thing. I've tied a lot of straw wrappers into knots in my life, but I'm not sure what the outcome means. I've never really known. Yet I still tie every straw wrapper I use in a knot. Even the plastic ones, which is silly since they don't really break...they just stretch and twist and then kind of cling to your hands...frankly, it's annoying. But regardless, I still tie them.

I've held up many a garbage can line while making sure to tie my straw wrapper before throwing it away. And in my purse you can often find bits and pieces of straw wrappers that were at one time tied and broken...or not broken.

Is someone thinking about me? Is no one thinking about me? As far as I know, it could be both. I guess you could say people are always *knot* thinking about me (hahahaha...ha).

My point is (yes, there is a point)...order those drinks, use those straws, and tie those wrappers, cause the world is full of straw wrappers just waiting to tell you that someone may or may not be thinking about you.

And on second thought, maybe it wouldn't hurt to get a crystal ball? Then the crystal ball could tell you what it means when the knot in your straw wrapper breaks!

I love...blushing.

This afternoon I was stopped at an intersection downtown and saw an older gentleman dancing on the street corner as he was waiting for his turn to cross the road. He looked in my direction and I threw my hands up in the air and bounced my shoulders a bit to return the dance. Then I looked to my left and the guy in the car next to me was giving me a confused look...and I felt myself start to blush.

If you know me at all or have seen me out and about then chances are you have seen my cheeks get nice and rosey. It could happen at any moment. I can't control it.

I might blush for any of the following reasons:

I trip in front of a group of people.
Someone gives me a compliment.

I'm asked an embarrassing question.

The person next to me is asked an embarrassing question.

Someone on TV is asked an embarrassing question.

I say something stupid.

I say something smart.

I drink too much red wine.

I'm warm.

I'm cold.

I'm Jenny.

 

I could go on. But I won't. I'm getting embarrassed.

 

It's been that way since I was little. I noticed it more so in school, like when the teacher called on me to answer a question in front of the class or a boy I liked picked on me by hitting me on the head with his folder everytime he walked to the pencil sharpener (true story).

I used to hate it and at a certain point it affected my everyday routine. I spent time in class trying to figure out how to make just the right amount of eye contact with the teacher and then pretend I was writing down amazing notes so they wouldn't call on me. Or when my friends said the folder-hitting boy did that cause he liked me back I would find ways to not sit close to the pencil sharpener so he couldn't draw attention to me. It even affected my wardrobe, as I'd try to not wear much red so that if I blushed people couldn't say "Hey, your face matches your shirt!"

The thing about my blushing is that the actual blushing makes me blush more. So I'd start to blush, then feel I was blushing and blush more, then someone would say "Hey, you're blushing" and I'd blush even more...and at that point I'd pray that either my face would explode or the room would go dark so I could make a quick getaway.

I used to hope for a blushing "cure". A potion. A cheek-transplant surgery that would give me the less blushy-cheeks of other people who were able to handle random situations without looking like a blush make-up model gone overboard.

As I've gotten older it's gotten better. This could be the result of guys no longer hitting me on the head in front of my friends to express their feelings. Or it is probably just the result of becoming a lot more comfortable with myself. I'm a goofball who is sometimes clumsy and often says random stuff, and since I've mentally accepted that I think my cheeks have come to accept it, too.

 

But still, I do blush. The difference is that now I don't hate it when I blush. Sure it'd be nice to be able to control the blush level from time to time, but I don't want to stop it anymore. I've decided that it is just my way of showing that I'm feeling every emotion of every moment as they rush through my body and then ultimately show in my cheeks. And you know what else? I like wearing the color red and if my face ends up matching my shirt - cool, I'm color coordinated.

I have a feeling that blushing is always going to be a part of who I am and I'm okay with that. Actually, I look forward to that moment years and years from now when I'll be an old woman dancing on a street corner while I wait for my turn to cross. I'll be the same Jenny, just older and gray...and red.

I love...dishwashing.

It's been over six years since I've lived somewhere with a dishwasher. When I first looked for apartments in the Cleveland Heights area hardly any of them had dishwashers as they're all in older buildings. I was a bit nervous about the idea of not having that amenity. But then my desire for the location won over my desire for a dishwasher, and I realized "Hey, these hands at the ends to my arms are great dishwashers". After a few years there I then moved to Tremont and a dishwasher wasn't even a factor in my apartment search.

Over the years I've grown to enjoy washing dishes. Don't get me wrong, it's not something I want to do on a Saturday night. And there was the night a year ago when I was washing dishes before bed, broke a glass, sliced my finger, started bleeding, and as I started to freak out I vowed that if I survived the horrible cut I would never wash another dish [*spoiler alert: I survived. But only after calling my friend Megan and telling her I was certain I needed stitches; she kindly played along, picked me up, and as we drove out of Tremont she asked to see the cut, after which she told me that a strong bandaid would probably suffice. She was right.].


But again, dishwashing is not so bad. In fact, it can be kind of fun. And here are two reasons why:

1) Punishing the Dishes: In college, though we had a dishwasher, sometimes my roomies and I would still just wash the dishes in the sink, especially those dirty pots and pans. And when it came time to wash those dirty dishes, I didn't think "washing" them sounded fun, so I came up with the idea to "punish" them instead. How can you punish dishes? Well, I would fill the sink with warm soapy water, throw in the dishes, and then walk away as I yelled "Now you stay there and think about what you've done!" Then I'd watch TV until I decided they had learned their lesson and were ready to be cleaned...and then used again.

2) Kanye West's "Gold Digger": You probably know the song - and/or can listen to it here. It's fun to dance to, fun to sing along to, and -in my opinion- fun to wash dishes to. That's right, when I'm washing dishes I've got Kanye and Jamie Foxx singing along in my head. The reason is that anytime I go to wash the dishes and start pushing up my sleeves, all I can think of is the lyric: "There's dishes in the back, he gotta roll up his sleeves". And from there the song is in my head and I'm all "She take my money, well I'm in need...", and then it's just a big ol' dishwashing dance party in my kitchen.

Those are just a couple reasons why dishwashing isn't so bad. PLUS it gives me a reason to wear my apron. If I ever move into a place with a dishwasher I probably won't know what to do with it. Maybe I'll just use it to store sweaters.

Speaking of dishes, I have some being punished right now and I think they've finally learned their lesson. So I gotta run, Kanye & Jamie are waiting... "She take my money, well I'm in need..."

I love...random short story Sunday (#3).

Today I realized something. It's been almost a YEAR since my last random short story Sunday post.

Unacceptable, right?

So here you go! Take a few minutes this afternoon to read this ol' story I wrote about two bumblebees, cause it's story time on Jenny's blog.

Red & Pink: A Buzz Story
by: jenny chalk

Once upon a flower there were two bumblebees.

 

One bumblebee was named Red - he liked apples, stop signs and cinnamon bubble gum; he did not like the color pink.

The other bumblebee was named Pink - she liked cotton candy, flamingos and original bubble gum; she did not like the color red.

On one side of town you could often find Red buzzing near stop signs and smiling while blowing bubbles with his cinnamon bubble gum. On the other side of town Pink would be petting plastic flamingos and buying bags of cotton candy, while blowing bubbles with her original bubble gum.

Red and Pink had heard about each other and their opposite color preferences, but had never met until one rainy Thursday night...

Red and Pink were both out with friends at a local karaoke hive. Red had just finished singing his favorite song - 'Red Red Wine' - when Pink buzzed in. He didn't know who she was, but he thought she was beautiful. She got up on stage and sang 'Pink' by Aerosmith; Red couldn't take his eyes off of her. When she buzzed off stage they began talking. They talked all night, forgetting to even exchange names, and suddenly the hive was closing and their friends were ready to leave.

"Come on, Pink!" yelled Pink's friends.
"Come on, Red!" yelled Red's friends.

They looked at each other in shock.

"You're Red?"

"You're Pink?"

And before they could say anything else their friends were dragging them home.

Red couldn't sleep that night. He'd always pictured Pink as a gross, pink-loving bee, but she was beautiful and funny and he liked her alot. But could she like him back if some of his favorite things represented her least favorite color? That was when Red decided to change his color-loving ways and try to embrace everything about the color pink.

That night Pink had the exact same thoughts about Red.

The next day Red called Pink and invited her to lunch. When they met at the restaurant, Pink was wearing a red dress. "What do you think of my dress?" she asked.

Red liked it, but was confused - was this a trick? "Yek, it's gross," he replied.

Then Red presented Pink with a pink flower. Pink started to smile, then remembered her plan. She took the pink flower and threw it on the ground.

They sat there in an awkward silence for awhile; each thinking that the afternoon was not going as planned. But then they began talking and laughing and it felt so comfortable. Red talked about his job as a writer for a local magazine. Pink talked about her job as an antenna stylist. They liked the same kind of movies and enjoyed going to the same hives around town.

For lunch Pink painfully ordered an apple pizza and Red ordered a cotton candy souffle. However, neither of them touched their meals. As lunch ended they talked about different things they could do afterward. Red suggested a tour of the local flamingo farm and Pink suggested a tour of the best stop signs in town.

They buzzed outside as they tried to agree on an activity. Neither would give in to the other's suggestion. As time passed, it started to get awkward again. Pink reached into her purse and pulled out some cinnamon bubble gum. Red grabbed a piece of original bubble gum from his pocket. As they began chewing their bubble gum, Pink couldn't take it and she spit her gum on the ground. "I'm sorry! I can't do this, I've just never been a fan of the color red!" she cried.

Red spit his gum out as well, "I know! I really don't like pink. But I think you're great!"
Pink nodded, "So are you!"

 

That was when they realized that they didn't need to change who they were for each other. And they didn't need to like or dislike everything that the other bumbleebee liked or disliked.

Pink may not have liked the color red, but she liked Red.

Red may not have liked the color pink, but he liked Pink.

 

So Red handed Pink the pack of original bubble gum and Pink handed Red the pack of cinnamon bubble gum and they buzzed off into the sunset together, blowing red and pink bubbles the whole way.

The End

I love...2013.

  It's just over half way through the first day of 2013 and I love this year already!

I rang in this new year in a way that I haven't in a long time, or possibly ever...I was at home, alone. I had big plans for the night. I was going to get gussied up, go to dinner, then to a NYE party at my friends' house (where it was rumored there was going to be karaoke!). However, for the past week and a half I've been fighting off a cold and yesterday when I woke up it was obvious that the cold was winning. I tried to push through hoping I could pull it together, but when I got out of work early and stopped at the mall to find some last-minute cuteness to wear, I found myself in a fog staring at a sparkly dress that likely wouldn't have fit over my right leg and decided I should make the wise choice to stay in. So I spent the night at home with juice, a glass of wine, some pad thai from Ty Fun, my fanciest pjs, and the Dick Clark special, which allowed me to kind of sing karaoke when Carly Rae Jepsen performed "Call Me Maybe".

I proceeded to fall asleep on my couch off and on until about 3a.m., when I finally moved to my bed. Then I woke up this morning ready to start the day and the new year, but found that I had no electricity, and subsequently no heat. Soo...that brings me to right now, where I sit on the second floor of a Starbucks in downtown CLE. (*I note "second floor" because it makes me feel fancy. I'm basically like the queen of Starbucks right now, just sayin'.)

Granted, the second floor of a Starbucks is not the first place I thought I'd start out my 2013 New Year's Day, but it's been pretty cool so far. I mean, I'm the queen; one couple just walked in with a cute dog; lots of happy people keep walking in declaring "happy new year"; plus I had a gift card (bonus)! Also, this has given me some time to focus on a very important mission I've taken on over the past few years...to decide on the new year's motto.

What is a "new year motto", you ask?

It's the motto to live by for the new year. Some words to carry with you. Something to strive for. Perhaps some motto history would help to better explain:

2009: "Shine in '09!" This is when it started. Some friends and I were at brunch on new year's day and thought "we need a motto!" So we brainstormed, and it my friend Brian came up with "Shine in '09!" And shine we did!

2010: "Be like Jenny in 2010-y!" This motto never really caught on, but it's super catchy, right?? Whatevs, I lived by it. And I guess Jenny McCarthy did, too.

2011: "Name your drink giraffe Kevin in 2011!" This was the result of a NYE celebration on West 25th Street. I brought a bunch of those plastic drink hangers that are shaped like animals (incl. a giraffe) and we handed them out and used them all night. Soo...why not create a motto for the new year around them. (*"Be like Jenny in 2011-y" was not approved by my friends...whatevs.)

2012: "Rearrange your shelves in 2012!" Well, um, not lots of things rhyme with "12". People still weren't keen to "Be like Jenny in 2012-y" and why not take some time to rearrange your shelves?

2013: Now here we are...a new year and a new motto. After insight from friends and some serious thought on my part...the motto for 2013 is: "Don't be mean in 2013!" Sure these are words to live by every year, but since "mean" and "teen" rhyme so nicely, I don't think it hurts to reiterate the idea this year. So don't be mean. Just don't. It's silly. And this is a motto coming directly from the queen of Starbucks, so it's very official.

If you're interested, here were some runners-up:

"Keep it clean in 2013"
"Go green in 2013"
"Be seen in 2013"
"Eat Jimmy Deans in 2013" (*w/plans to ask Jimmy Dean to sponsor the year)

"Be like Jenny in 2013-enny"

Happy New Year, friends and soon-to-be friends! I hope you all have a great 2013...be amazing, be new, be inspiring, be you. And remember..."don't be mean in 2013!"