I’m Friggin Rich

Photo by me

Though I have yet to find a pot of gold and dance wildly with leprechauns, sighting a rainbow is a magical event.

On second thought………….

There are two pots of gold across from me on the couch. I call them Jase and Cricket. Well, sometimes I call them asshole and turd ferguson.

I found many pots of gold at my retail job today in my co-workers and customers whom I can joke and laugh with.

AND in the conversation with a bestie almost 1,000 miles away on my drive in.

Come to think of it, another pal in Arizona that messaged me I’ll be getting a book Monday and another who consistently checks in on me.

AND my eldest son and his girlfriend brought us pizza and tiramisu on Sunday along with completing a 1,000 piece jig saw puzzle with us.

Of course I have to mention we are all wealthier with blogs from : Kate, Goldie, Robin, V, Pooja G, Kacha, Ashley and so many more!

Holy Shit, I’m fucking RICH………oh wait……there’s no leprechauns…..

Imogene “Idgie” Threadgoode

Photo by me

Jase and I out in public is at best hysterical.

Today’s adventure was the hospital. I gave the elderly man at the front desk my information. I could have sworn when he looked at the gal and gentleman next to him he said, “Imogene”.

A grin broke out on my face. Bubbling with enthusiasm, I blurted out, “Imogene! I love that name! That is such a great name, who’s name is Imogene?”

Jase standing next to me, “No Mare, imaging.”

Me, “I know honey, Imogene, isn’t that a great name!”

At this point, I was perplexed why no one behind the counter volunteered themselves as Imogene. Why no one was sharing in my excitement. Why was everyone looking at me like I pooped my pants?

Jase, “I-M-A-G-I-N-G, imaging honey, no one’s name is Imogene.”

If you’re familiar with the book/movie “Fried Green Tomatoes”, the name Imogene holds a special place in your heart. Much more than “imaging” ever will.

I’ll now hand the keyboard over to Jase to regale his take on this mornings exchange:

Jase here. Honestly there’s not much more to say. Mare was out of pocket; a total comic relief this morning. After she heard what she wanted to hear…the name I-M-O-G-E-N-E, she stood around looking like the only kid on the playground who didn’t get the punchline to the joke.

I’m allowed to poke fun of Mare. I tease her and say she’s not really a Ginger or Day Walker (with all of her cute freckles and gorgeous red locks of hair that stretch down to her butt). I say she’s more of a blonde dying her hair red. Or that she lives under the world’s deepest rock. Why? Cause she rips on me too. I’m pretty clueless. I have book smarts like math and physics, but when it comes to practical knowledge, that’s a different story. I have the street smarts of June Cleaver. But together….well we make up one well rounded brain…lemme just add a very good looking brain at that.

Mare here again.

There’s something about genuine laughter that lightens the heaviest of situations.

On our drive to the hospital, we listened to one of my favorite tunes. The lyrics help direct me to a better place. They remind me to honor all emotions and that we’re all in this together. Oooo this song gives me the “goosies” every time.

Wash Your Dirty Bits

There are days I feel like I’m falling out of a tree like my cat pictured above.

Shower?

Fuck no. That requires energy.

Jase kindly tells me when it’s time.

“Honey, you look like you brushed your hair with a pork chop.”

That’s when the hippie showers no longer cut it. You know, the 1 minute dirty bits rinse with the detachable shower head. Pits, tits, and ass as Jase refers to it……(I also include my vag)

A Proper Ass~hat

When you are asked to purchase coffee, please remember to take it out of the car when you get home.

If by chance you forget, and 30 inches of snow falls while you sleep, be a proper ass~hat.

Dig it out for your coffee deprived girlfriend.

The Forgotten Beet

It’s a beet.

Forgot it in the oven last night.

It was remembered upon bed time.

The oven was turned off.

The beet was forgotten again until this afternoon.

The least I could do was give it a face. The poor thing grew a mouth and a mole above it’s lip.

It’s now a dignified beet. There’s a stark resemblance to Gonzo.

My “Shining” Moment

I channeled my inner Jack Nicholson the other night when I came home to a locked house and no keys.

Clearly I did not get as far as Jack and the only resident on the other side of the door was Cricket the cat meowing for me to fill her food dish. The only fear was the fear of starvation.

I will say I looked more fashionable than Jack in my camouflage sequined jeans and my fringe Minnetonka suede boots. Take that Jack, this chick knows how to beat a door down in style.

I also created a masterpiece for a kick ass photo, and for that I am quite proud.

I sat in my car for 2 hours until Jase got home.

He opened a window……….