Blogging

The Love Letter We All Should Write

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Happy Halloween, Chipmunks!! Do you like my costume? I’m dressed up as a serious writer today.

Terrifying, I know.

And all because I bumped into a certain someone last weekend and suddenly felt 19 again, reeling from that…

…crazy, head-over-heels first love.

…can’t-stop-wondering-what-they’re-doing-right-now-and-how-about-now-and-how-about-now first love.

…overwhelming, exhilarating, exhausting first love.

Almost as exhausting as carving a custom jack-o-lantern seemed to me this year.

When an experience kicks up those old emotions -in my case, heartache, rejection and unworthiness- there’s so much I wish I could tell my younger self.

So I did.

Dear Younger Me,

Your first love has a sacred place in your unfolding. These wounds will heal, though the phantom pain will be, at times, very convincing. What an amazing gift to feel so much for another. Tap into this heartbreak and transmute those tears into the stuff that will fortify your soul. You are full and bright and beautiful.

You have this person to thank for showing you what you need from another: Someone who will be there for you in every moment and honor you as an equal. Someone who will strive to build you up as they build themselves up, too.

This person is an important part in strengthening your spirit, for the love you seek requires a heart that knows itself.

How else will you recognize its reflection?

Love,

Wiser Older Me

~*~*~*~*~*~

What did your first love teach you? What do you wish you could tell your younger self about it? (If this question makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to post pictures of dogs in costume instead.)

~*~*~*~*~*~

Blonde Moments, humor

Would You Like Fries (and a concussion) With That?

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“My father-in-law and I have this friendly banter going,” my friend, Stacey, explained over dinner the other night. “We like to bust each other’s chops.”

“Wait ’til she tells you about the latest,” her wife, Lauren, added. “My dad decided he wanted a new shed, and being the way he is, he had to get all of the measurements–”

“Like, all of the measurements, including the weight, so he’d know the impact on the grass,” Stacey said. “The whole nine.”

“Technically you need a permit,” Lauren explained.

“Hang on,” I replied. “You need a PERMIT to get a SHED? Just a regular SHED?”

9.-Small-Shed
Reason #1,654,923 I’m glad I sold my house. Photo credit

“Yeah,” Stacey nodded. “But no one does it. Including her dad.”

“Wait for it,” Lauren smirked, raising her eyebrows.

“So,” Stacey grinned. “He got his ‘illegal’ shed a couple of weeks ago. And I decided I’d prepare a little letter from the county zoning office. It took me four hours.”

Go-Jules-Go_prank-zoning-letterI stared between Stacey, Lauren, and this magical document, mouth agape.

“No,” I finally managed.

They explained that they had waited until an evening when they knew both of Lauren’s parents would be home. Lauren’s mom was in on the whole thing. On the chosen night, Lauren’s mom got up from watching the evening news and surreptitiously rang the doorbell, pretending someone was there. She returned to the living room, holding the letter out to her unsuspecting husband.

Needless to say, it was a slam dunk.

None of us could have ever predicted that only moments later I would need to recruit Stacey’s letter writing abilities for myself…

In the midst of discussing the many merits of Lasik eye surgery with my friends at the other end of the table, I leaned forward a couple of inches to take a sip of my drink.

“I’d do it again every year if I had t–”

*BAM*

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Photo credit

Everyone turned and looked to see where the alarming *THUD* had come from. My eyes welled with tears.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” our waitress exclaimed while I tried to gather my bearings.

What…Huh…?

I blinked.

It took me several seconds to realize our waitress had snuck up, ninja style, on my right, to clear a very, very pointy plate. Our fates collided the moment I decided I was parched, leaning forward a few millimeters…

*CLUNK*

The corner of my right eye nailed the corner of the plate she had just lifted.

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No one knew what to do. I didn’t have enough wits about me to explain that this was the only manner in which I ever got injured. Randomly. Freakishly. Embarrassingly. (I think it runs in the family. …All of the family.)

  • Age 7: Broken crotch: Balance beam or playground torture device? Jury’s still out
  • Age 15: Left butt cheek scar: Courtesy of a jagged bathtub faucet when I bent to get the soap
  • Age 19: Right eyebrow scar: Eyebrow ring + glitter eyeshadow. ‘Nuff said
  • Age 30: Left wrist scar: Pushing a tray of cookies too far into the oven
  • Age 34: Sprained sesamoid (“Turf toe”): Too-small high heels and an over-caffeinated stride

This time, though, there was clearly someone else at fault. (And yes, the above list is but a mere smattering. You’ll just have to wait for my memoirs.)

Stacey immediately began drafting a letter to the restaurant from my “attorney.” While we awaited her final touches, I answered a text from my new bloggerunicorn-vegan retreat friend:

Outdoorsy-NJ-style

~*~*~*~*~*~

Any other freaky accidents happening out there? No? Just me? …Who are you? Where am I?

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

humor, Uncle Jesse

Caring for My Dog: A Simple 137-Step Guidebook

Dear Reader,

Congratulations! After careful review, you have been selected to oversee my 8-year-old Australian Labradoodle, Uncle Jesse, while I’m away. Given the exceptional taste you’ve demonstrated by reading this blog, I feel marginally concerned certain you’ll be able to accommodate my dog’s daily demands.

Because I’m so confident in your abilities, I’ve attached only the abbreviated version of my 137-step guidebook. If at any time you find yourself doubting your caretaking capacity, please call one of the nineteen numbers I’ve listed in the back of this manual.

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STEP #1 – HYDRATION

It’s imperative that both you and Uncle Jesse remain hydrated at all times during his stay. This includes, but is not limited to: chilled, Brita-filtered water, refreshed 6-30 times per day, washing and drying the bowl after each rotation. In a pinch, you may provide tap water; we strongly discourage the use of bottled water.

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You will know you’ve misstepped if you’re greeted by this pose.

STEP #2 – NUTRITION

Uncle Jesse insists upon an on-demand supply of V-Dog kibble. If any kibble goes uneaten for more than 12 hours, please sample before deciding whether to discard.

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Regarding the placement of his bowls, please select a warm, well-ventilated, cushioned area of the home where he will feel comfortable dining in his preferred reclined position.

Each time Uncle Jesse reenters your home after his mandatory nature bathings (see Step 3), he will expect a “treat” for his willingness to return to your humble dwelling. Acceptable treats include homecooked, plant-based items, arranged on a ceramic plate as follows:

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Should you question your ability to select a permissable food item, I’ve drafted this reference card:

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STEP #3 – EXERCISE

Uncle Jesse has grown accustomed to 5 miles of brisk walking out-of-doors each day; however, this can be broken into 2+ segments as we understand your employer refused to provide a leave of absence for this visit.

UJ-Maine-hiking
Uncle Jesse prefers the unsullied Maine wilderness, so I’ve emailed you a weekend itinerary that would allow for the 16-hour roundtrip.

As with hydration, stretching is paramount before each session. If you find he is panting for more than three and a half minutes upon returning, please encourage him to lie down and point your fan directly on him:

UJ-with-fan-on

STEP #4 – ELIMINATION

Assuming you’ve strictly followed steps 1-3, you can expect an impressive number of bowel movements per day. These occur in varying volume and composition during the aforementioned 5-mile walk, so carrying an array of multi-sized “poop bags” is prudent.

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Please refer to attachment B for a list of defecation coordinates that meet Uncle Jesse’s poop-to-house-distance ratio requirements.

STEP #5 – SLEEP

Uncle Jesse is deeply committed to “total wellness” and therefore insists upon 12+ hours of uninterrupted rest time per day. Please leave your bedroom door ajar at all times. I noticed you had extra pillows on the couch. I suggest moving these to the bed while he adjusts to sleeping in a new location.

Placing towels on the bed to protect your linens will only arouse his rancor.

UJ-bed-no-towel-on-pillows

STEP #6 – PLAY

You’ve probably heard that most dogs enjoy fetch. Being of a highly sensitive nature, Uncle Jesse would rather remain indoors for playtime, with you sitting on the ground and tossing his toys directly into his mouth while he perches on the couch.

If you fail to amuse him, he will notify you by placing the toy between his chin and the pillows that I’m sure you have remembered to return to the couch before beginning this exercise.

UJ-done-playing

STEP #7 – INTERACTION WITH LESSER BEINGS

Uncle Jesse and I are still reviewing the finer points related to the presence of any…well. You know.

Sophie

At this stage in our discussions, we would both prefer if you locked any “Others” in the basement for the week as we believe it will reinforce the natural balance of things and keep all parties safe from psychological harm. We’re just looking out for your well-being here.

STEP #8 – EDUCATION

Uncle Jesse has an ever-expanding repertoire, with evidence of his aptitude appearing at 10 weeks old.

To maintain this intellectual agility, we enjoy practicing shake, stretch, sit, lie down, paw, other paw, little speak, big speak and “Watch the hair, huh!” on a daily basis.

Please also feel free to pass by our local Catholic church at 7:00am, 8:00am, 9:00am, 12:00pm and 6:00pm so that he might work on his pitch.

STEP #9 – GROOMING

Do not, under any circumstances, tamper with his hair, nails, ears, or teeth. If he appears standoffish, remember to say “please” before asking to pet him.

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Soooomebody forgot her manners.

STEP #10 – TRAVEL

Should you need to chauffeur Uncle Jesse, please leave the back passenger side seat free (he will not tolerate the other side), and leave the window rolled down fully, provided the speed does not exceed 45 MPH and/or the temperature remains above 50 degrees Fahrenheit.

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If you do not excessively stare, he will permit one rearview window photograph per car ride.

And not to worry, dear reader – those new lights in each room are simply CIA-approved surveillance cameras.

~*~*~*~*~*~