UGH!

Not sure if any of you can even SEE this. Apparently, you can get malware from pictures as well as gadgets, etc. So I removed any remaining gadgets and deleted pictures that I added to posts in the last week to see if that helps.

Still working on it...

Oh GREAT!!

Just when I'm getting back into the swing of things...

I think I have some sort of malware or something on my blog. I have to figure this out. Maybe I need to change my template or something.

I'll be back....

Gone but not forgotten

I know I've been a total slacker lately, so first of all, I want to apologize to my bloggy friends who bestowed the following awards upon me within the last month while I was gone.

THANK YOU!

The first one comes from Tom at Sophisticated Lunacy who finds hilarity in all kinds of everyday stuff and the second one comes from Miss Nikki (which, by the way, always reminds of Prince's song, Darling Nikki) at Life's a Bitch, guaranteed to make milk come out of your nose.

Funny thing is, they're the same award.

Sort of.

They have different pictures and one is The Versatile Blogger Award and one is the Versatile Blog Award. I'm posting them twice to reflect my greatness.


>


The rules are pretty much the same and since I never follow them anyway, this is what I'm going to do. I'm supposed to list 7 things about myself (so you're getting 14) and then list 15 bloggers who are deserving of being the best of the best, or something like that...

Here goes:

1. My favorite color is red. It's hot and bold and sassy! Oh, like me.

2. I curse like a sailor. FU#@ yeah, I do.

3. I'm incapable of doing math in my head. 1+1? I don't know....4?

4. I love black patent shoes. And yes, they do reflect up.

5. White cake is my favorite. There's really nothing more to say.

6. I could ice cream every day of my life. Again. Nothing.

7. I'm a sucker for a man in uniform. Or out of uniform.

8. I HATE hot weather. And everyone around me knows it.

9. I have freckles. Not in a gross way, though.

10. My hair would be completely white if I didn't color it. Found my first gray hair at 13.

11. I think air conditioning is the greatest invention ever. See #8.

12. I'm 5'9. And right now, the ideal weight for a 5'11 man.

13. I love horror movies. Pinhead rules!

14. I'm currently in a purely sexual relationship with my body pillow. Don't tell my down pillow. I don't want him to get his feathers all ruffled.

That was funny. See what I did there? Feathers. Down. Award winning humor, my friends.


I would like to pass this award(s) on to the following:

Tiffany @ Life Requires More Chocolate Anyone with a title like this is a friend of mine. And she's an Ohio girl to boot!

Cashier @ Confessions of a Cashier If you have EVER worked with the public, you must read her blog. Oh. And she's from Ohio, too!

Jessi @ Things I Use to Be. Jessi's a Chief in the Navy and my current new crush. Check out the bod she's been perfecting! Okay, she doesn't live in Ohio anymore but we won't hold that against her.

Southern Guy @ Simply Suthern Funny takes on everyday life with a southern accent. Okay, I don't KNOW that he has a southern accent but I'm assuming. Not from Ohio but there's still time.

That's my list of 15 bloggers. What? That's not 15? I told you I wasn't good at math.

I'm a work in progress

Okay, so I tried working out at the gym and I hated taking the time to drive the 6 minutes to get there, I hated worrying about what I wore and I hated that every time I was there, another machine had an "out of order" sign taped to it. Yes, the membership didn't cost me a dime but even for free, I just couldn't get motivated.

So I tried P90X. Again. It really is a fantastic workout but it's a huge commitment of time since each workout is at least 60 minutes long and you're supposed to work out 6 days a week. I fell off that wagon, too.

Then I watched the new show, Losing it with Jillian. You probably know Jillian Michaels from The Biggest Loser. Can I tell you how obsessed I am with her?

And when I saw this?!?!



Whoa. Are these two dating? I still watch Las Vegas reruns just to see Vanessa Marcil's ass.



(Sidenote to all my new readers, No, I'm not a lesbian but I have a tendency for HUGE girl crushes.)

No, my crush isn't Vanessa, although she certainly is yummy. It's Jillian Michaels.



I know!

She's not even my type. I usually go for the trashy blonde, Pam Anderson types but there's just something about Jillian. She scares me a little but I'm not hatin' it. I joined her Facebook page along with 346,000 of her closest friends and someone mentioned her workout DVD, 30 Day Shred.

Of course, I immediately purchased it.

Number one, because it's Jillian. Duh.

And number two, because it's only 20 minutes. Yes, it's every day but it's only 20 minutes. Even I can commit to that.

It's circuit training and it has three levels. I thought that I would most likely be at level two to start. Well, I was wrong.

Level one is a lot of basic exercises: jumping jacks, squats, lunges. The sequence is 3 minutes of strength, 2 minutes of cardio and 1 minute of abs. Bring it, I said!

Can I just tell you that this DVD KICKED my ass? It was fantastic! Of course, the next morning, I couldn't get up from the toilet and I tried to send Bernie for help but Lassie she's not.

After 6 days, I feel fabulous.

That's right.

Me.

Chrissy Starr.

Stuck to a workout for 6 days in a row.

And I'm loving it!

Move over, Vanessa. There's going to be a new ass in town!

Okay, that didn't sound right but you know what I mean.

Thank you, Charles Dickens

This is exactly how I feel right now.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way. .

RIP, Jimmy Dean

I'm really going to miss your thick, juicy sausage.

Secondhand Sunday

Sundays are my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I re-post a "vintage" entry.

If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.


"Do you smell that?"

Original Post Date, September 28, 2009


I stopped wearing perfume a few years ago. It wasn't really a conscious decision. I ran out of a fragrance I had been wearing and the prospect of picking out something new was too overwhelming. You know I'm incapable of making decisions. And a whole bottle of perfume is a big commitment. You know I have trouble with commitment.

The last fragrance I wore was chosen by a man I was seeing. We had gone out a few times when he said to me, "I have to ask you something."

"Okay, go ahead."

"I don't want you to get mad."

"Well, gee, when you preface it like that, I guess I'll do my best."

"I would like to take you perfume shopping."

"Oh. So you don't like my perfume?"

"Um..honestly, sweetheart, no, I really don't."

"Oh. Okay. Well, what is it about it that don't you like?"

"Well, you kinda smell like an old lady."

"Oh. Like Bengay and urine?"

"No...no...just cheap and overwhelming."

"Oh gosh, well, when you put it like that, how could I be mad?"

And honestly, I wasn't. It amused me more than anything else.

So I've been thinking about my whole dating life or lack thereof. Maybe it's not as black and white as boy meets girl. There might be something to the olfactory angle. Just maybe I should be thinking of it in a more primal way like animals do. Let's analyze this.

Animals rely on pheromones to attract the opposite sex and signal mating readiness. Researchers studying animals have shown how pheromones work, tracing complex neurological paths to stimulate parts of the brain that are deeply rooted in instinct.

A male hamster smeared with vaginal secretions from a female hamster will attract male suitors. Queen bees ensure their royal status by excreting chemicals that sterilize the other female bees around them. A female boar, after one whiff of a particular secretion from a male boar, will immediately assume the mating position. It usually takes me two lemon drop martinis.

I remember back in the late 80's, a pheromone perfume was introduced to the market that claimed to attract the opposite sex. Of course, when I was in my 20's, it didn't take much to attract the opposite sex. Guys wanted the hot girls in Jordache jeans and girls were eager to expose their boobies to boys wearing pink T-shirts under Armani-like jackets a la Don Johnson in Miami Vice.

The existence of pheromones as sexual attractants in humans is debatable. Some theorize that they don't exist at all or that they exist in the young but weaken with age.

I think we've all come to the realization that I'm a sucker for a pretty face. And that these pretty boys don't serve me well in my quest for a long term relationship. So I'm going to do my own clinical trial on the pheromone phenomenon. I will act as both investigator and participant.

Phase One: I'll place another personal ad online but this time, I'll seek out the successful and stable; yet sheepish and insecure, regular guy. The one who has a 4 bedroom house in a subdivided neighborhood in the hopes that he'll meet Miss Right and fill those bedrooms with the pitter patter of little feet. He's the one who's worked his way up the corporate ladder and defied the theory that only attractive people get ahead.

Phase Two: When we meet, I'll hug him hello and casually spray him with pheromone cologne. By the end of the night, I'm hoping to feel enough tingly tinglies for me to want to see him again.

Phase Three: The protocol will mandate one spray and one lemon drop martini each time we go out. Bowling and/or a night of Dungeons and Dragons optional.


Conclusive evidence of the existence of pheromones as sexual attractants will be proven when I order a second lemon drop martini.

Be sure to stay tuned for the published results of this study.

Dad

It’s been a while since I posted an update about my Dad. As you may recall, he was diagnosed with Stage 4, non-small cell carcinoma in September.

In simple terms, that’s inoperable lung cancer.

At that time, he was given a prognosis of 12 months, if he was lucky. He vowed to fight this and not become a statistic and honestly, 6 weeks ago, you wouldn’t have even known there was anything wrong with him.

But lung cancer is an insidious beast that doesn’t rest until it has defeated its victims. He was doing really well on the traditional chemotherapy so the doctor decided to switch him to a chemo pill. That didn’t bode well with his system and he lost a great deal of weight so the doctor had to stop the treatment. I’m shocked at how much he’s declined in the last few weeks.

I took him to the bank on Saturday and while I did his banking at the window, he talked to the bank manager. I’ve taken to spontaneous bursts of tears lately and I started crying at the teller window. The teller, Ernestine, excused herself and went into another room. When she returned, she was wiping tears from her eyes and she whispered, “He’s one of my favorites.”

Me, too, Ernestine. Me, too.

His health has gradually declined and he’s been bouncing in and out of the hospital. I learned yesterday that “getting closer” is the hospice term for when someone is nearing the end of their life. I wish I didn’t know that.

For now, we'll just be grateful for every day we have with him and hope that he can stay comfortable as he "gets closer."

Mother Nature's Wrath

Like the rest of the country, we've been experiencing weather extremes. This spring, it's been an exorbitant amount of thunderstorms with the accompanying buckets of rain.

This morning around 4AM, I was awoken yet again. Not by the rain, but by Bernie, who was frantically trying to get on the bed and hide under the covers because she heard a distant rumble of thunder.

Within 15 minutes, it was a full fledged storm. I always worry because I have so many huge trees in my yard and the largest sits right next to my garage. I cautiously peeked out this morning and held my breath for a minute until I was sure all my trees were still standing.

No such luck with the Griswold's down the road. Remember them? The family with the over the top Halloween and Christmas decorations?





Here's their front yard today.



I found the family sitting across the street in lawn chairs watching the remainder of their tree come down. Thank goodness that no one was hurt but the 3 vehicles in their driveway weren't so lucky.

This is 5 hours after the the tree company started the cleanup so you can imagine what it looked like when it first happened.








Mr. Tree Guy,

Please put your shirt on. This sight is more frightening than the damage the tree did.

Secondhand Sunday

Sundays are my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I re-post a "vintage" entry.

If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.


"I'll miss you when you're gone"

Original Post Date, November 5, 2009

When I was young, I used to to wonder why my parents would get nostalgic over seemingly lame stuff like grocery stores of days gone by or older model cars. Who cares??

Well, I get it now. Sort of. Sometimes I surprise myself by how overly sentimental I feel about silly stuff.

Like Juicy Fruit gum. My grandfather always used to keep two packs in his pocket for me and my sister. He would give it to us and we would rip into it only to find that it had been in his pocket for so long that the gum had melted to the wrapper. It was the most delicious gum I ever had.

Or Fritos. There was a city pool that we went to as kids. I was always allowed one treat from the snack bar and I always chose a bag of Fritos. I would run out of the pool and eat them one by one while my hair dripped all over the bag. When I smell Fritos, I can still see the dolphin in the middle of the baby pool.

Or my mother's bracelets. My mother had a set of gold bracelets that her mother had given her and she only wore them on special occasions. When my parents went out, the older couple next door, Uncle Gene and Auntie Margaret, would babysit. I had huge separation anxiety issues as a child and I would pretend to be asleep while I waited for my parents to come home. As soon as I heard the jingle of the coins on my mother's bracelet, I knew that I would be home safe in my bed soon.

My latest starry eyed sentiment came yesterday when I heard that a roller coaster from an amusement park that I used to go to as a child had received the ACE Roller Coaster Landmark designation, awarded only to coasters of historical significance. The Big Dipper was the 14th oldest roller coaster in the world and the 10th oldest in the United States when Geauga Lake closed in 2007.

All the rides were auctioned off and hauled away, except for the Big Dipper. It was sold for $5,000, significantly lower than the $50,000 it cost to build it in 1925. Lest you think the bidder got a great deal, keep in mind that it will cost upwards of $3 million dollars to move it and no decision has been made yet where that might be. So it sits as a solitary reminder of what used to be.


I have such amazing memories of going to this park as a child and I remember riding the coaster for the first time, certain that I was going to fly out of the seat.

I just spent the last 30 minutes on YouTube watching tributes to Geauga Lake. I was almost brought to tears by one playing Michael Bolton's, How Am I Supposed to Live Without You as the background music when I thought to myself, What the hell is wrong with you?!

Come take a ride with me on this gem. Hold on tight!

Stripper Chick Wisdom

Chrissy's real truth about life that no one will tell you.


"I know you hate your job, but let's face it, you aren't smart enough to do anything else."

Oh my!

Gosh, I really need to trim my bush.