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!"

I love...ornaments.

Ta-da! My Christmas tree is officially decorated!
 

See:

 

It's actually been decorated for over a week now, which is pretty good for me. Normally there is the long process of bringing it in the box down from the attic and letting it adjust to the hallway for a few days; then taking it out of the box and letting it adjust to standing upright for a few days; then I start to put on the lights but get annoyed when one strand goes out so I leave it in the corner in shame for a few more days; then one Sunday I finally fix the lights, add the ornaments, and...BAM: it's Christmas all up in my apartment.

Nope, this year I made it all happen in one day. It's probably because I'm getting to be more mature and responsible with age...ahem...



Disco ball ornament

When it comes to decorating my tree, for the past few years I've used purple lights and a set of silver ornaments. They consist of round ones, skinny ones, big ones, little ones, and sparkly ones.

There's even a few small ones that look like this disco ball ornament (did someone say "tree par-tay"?!):










However, wanting to add a little extra "Jenny" to my tree each year, I have happily acquired new ornaments that I throw into the Christmas tree decorating mix. Here are a few of them:



Save the Date ornament

My friend Colleen and I handmade this ornament in 2007. The bug (on the left) is a tribute to a small bug that we saw the previous summer. We were sitting outside our friend's house in Little Italy during the Feast and it was hot...really hot. We saw an adorable little bug on the sidewalk (and for me to call a bug adorable takes a lot), it was one of those little wooly/fuzzy bugs and it was just inching along. Suddenly it started flipping around like it was dancing. Then...it stopped. It died right in front of us! Of course we'd both seen dead bugs before and seen others or ourselves squish bugs, but never seen one die all on its own. For weeks after that we told all of our friends about the story of Little Bug (as we dubbed him) and his story became a part of our group. We drew him on magnets that we made for our birthday party invites...then we drew him on this Save the Date ornament, which was an invite to a joint party we threw for our friends Rachel & Matt that year. A few of our friends tell us that they still hang their ornament up every year...and so do I!



Chicago ornament

This ornament was a favor from my friends' wedding in Chicago several years back. It was a great weekend - we sang karaoke at their rehearsal dinner (hosted at a delicious pizza restaurant), celebrated their beautiful wedding in the Sears Tower (I know..."Willis Tower"), and toured the city. I thought that this favor was a sweet idea and now every Christmas when I hang it up on my tree I think of them and that great weekend.














S'more ornament

I got this ornament at an ornament exchange party a couple years ago. A bunch of friends were back in town for the holidays, so we all got together to catch up, eat, drink, and exchange ornaments! The ornaments were all wrapped so we didn't know what we might be getting and we passed them back and forth until finally whatever ornament you were holding was the one that was yours for keeps. I unwrapped mine to find this adorable marshmallow guy! And up until the moment when I leaned in close to take this picture, I thought it was simply that - just a cute marshmallow guy sitting on a piece of wood. Upon closer inspection...I have now realized it's actually a s'more guy! Even cuter! I guess you learn something new about your Christmas tree ornaments every year. That's a saying, right...?








Youngest child ornament
 

Last year my mom got me and my sisters each our own ornament. This was mine and it says "youngest child", because, well, I'm the youngest child. My ornaments don't lie!

 



Pickle ornament

And then there's this one. It's a pickle. I think my mom also gave me this ornament one year and said it is a Christmas tradition for people to hang pickles on their Christmas tree and that it brings good fortune in the year ahead. I didn't question her, though have since Googled it and confirmed that it is indeed true. So now, every year, I have a pickle on my tree. Yay! Bring on the fortune.



And that is the tour of my Christmas tree ornaments. Now for the next few weeks I get to enjoy the lit up Christmas tree each night as the holiday spirit takes over my apartment. Until, of course, I need to start the process of UNdecorating the tree: removing the ornaments and getting annoyed when they all don't fit in the very same container I kept them in the year before; taking off the lights; waiting a few days then folding up the tree and getting annoyed when it doesn't fit in the same box that it also did NOT fit in the year before; then tying it up and putting it back up in the attic.

 

But who wants to think about that, so for now I'm just going to enjoy this wonderful Christmas tree night light filled with lots of happy memories and disco dance party possibilities. Tis the season...to disco!



I love...being thankful.

This Thanksgiving I had a lot to be thankful for:

My family

My friends

My new car, Tootsie

Pizza

Prince

Leopard print

Carly Rae Jepsen

Bubblewrap

The word "love"

Laughing

Jimmy Fallon

Blue Gatorade

The ability to j/k

Heart shapes

Empty gyms

Instagram

The #37

Pillows

The list goes on and on...so I'll just pick out a few to discuss here:

My family
My family alternates between three different relatives' homes that host Thanksgiving. It's the one time of year that we get together with aunts, uncles and cousins to catch up and laugh our faces off. This year it was at my aunt & uncle's house in Cincinnati. Unfortunately I wasn't able to go to Cincy to be with everyone this particular year, so my parents were nice enough to drive up to the CLE to have dinner on Thanksgiving-eve with me and my sister Lisa. We went to Light Bistro in Ohio City. The food was delish and we had a lot of laughs as we discussed everything from confit to the time my mom and I got in the wrong van in a store parking lot. Then Thanksgiving morning they all headed down to Cincy to see the rest of my fam for the weekend. Fortunately I'll be able to see them all in February at my cousin's wedding - thank goodness for love!

Empty gyms
After sleeping in a bit I woke up on Thanksgiving morning, watched some of the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade, then got the urge to go to the gym (in anticipation of what I would be eating later in the day). My gym has 24-hour access and upon entering I found that I was the only person who had this "go to the gym on Thanksgiving" idea. I had the place to myself! I decided to use this opportunity to do all the things I don't normally do at the gym when other people are there.

As I started running on the treadmill a Beyonce song came on my iPod and I was inspired to see if I could run, dance and sing like Beyonce all at the same time while keeping my breath. I could! Well, for a few minutes at least.

Once my treadmill concert was done I decided to attempt playing with the big ropey things. They're those large ropes that are bolted to the ground and you're supposed to work out with them...somehow. I'd never tried them before, cause there are usually too many people around and I don't understand what I'm supposed to do with them. I picked them up and shook them up and down. I twisted them in circles. I crisscrossed them. I still didn't know what I was doing, but I was sure I was getting stronger-ish.

Then I went downstairs to the weight room. I'd used the room before, only a few of the machines that are close to the front - some arm ones, the leg ones. Today, since I had the whole room to myself, I did what I've never done before...I walked all the way to the back of the weight room! It was amazing- there was a different floor back there. Then I saw it, a large silver bowl full of chalk! This changed everything. I now know that I'm welcome in the weight area anytime. They have chalk there, I'm Chalk...get it? In fact, even though I'm sitting at a coffee shop typing this right now...it's good to know that I'm actually at the gym right now, too. I feel even stronger!

My friends
There is a lot to say about this topic. I often stop and think about how lucky I am because of the great friends I've met in my life. I've met so many people who are kind, thoughtful, hilarious, fun, helpful, caring, and did I mention hilarious? Instead of going through all of those people in this post, I'd like to touch on one instance of friendship over this Thanksgiving holiday.

As I mentioned earlier, I wasn't able to join my family in Cincinnati for the holiday dinner. Upon hearing this my friend Colleen immediately invited me to join her and her family for dinner. (And after that, several other friends also invited me if I still needed a place to go.) So I joined her, her boyfriend and her family that evening. We drank wine, sampled cheese, discussed fingernails and movies while researching topics on our phones, and then we ate...everything from turkey to rutabaga to pumpkin pie...to anything else that falls in between at a Thanksgiving feast. It was a wonderful dinner, accented perfectly by the tiny salt & pepper shakers that we each had at our own seat.


I hope you had and are having a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday with family, friends, and possibly your own personal gym for an hour or so. Go ahead, shake those ropes...and if you need me, I'll be in the weight room.

I love...mittens.

Recently I bought a pair of mittens. These mittens:

As cute and soft as they appear in this picture, our relationship almost ended as quickly as it began. Let me explain...

The thing that originally pulled my attention their way was the "sale" tag hanging off of them at H&M. But the thing that made me pick them up and buy them was their cute, little, mitteny appearance.

The past few winters I've gone with regular gloves or fingerless gloves, so upon seeing them I thought to myself: "Hmm, it's been awhile since I've had mittens." Then I bought those little mittens and excitedly put them on as soon as I got in the car to drive home. I felt great! Just me and my new mittens.

As I started driving I went to change the radio station. But I couldn't. My fingers were all too close together to hit the right button on the radio. They were trapped. I was having a case of finger-claustrophobia! But I couldn't take the gloves off at that moment. I was driving. I was getting on the highway. I was merging! 10 & 2. 10 & 2!

Luckily it only took a few seconds for me to chill out. A song I liked came on the radio. My fingers were fine. They weren't suffocating, they were just bonding. They were warm and cozy.

I was wearing mittens. And I liked it.

I suggest you go out and buy yourself your own pair of mittens, then the next time we cross paths we can have a mitten high five! But for safety reasons you should probably wait until you get home to put them on and break them in. Maybe wear them while watching this scene from an episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

"jfkfmkolkdjsmkl." -typed by my mitten-hands (translation: "The End.")