There Ain't No Goin' Back

Lately, I have been pondering what it means to grow older. I hadn't given much thought to my age until recently, when the appearance of several grey hairs made me pause to consider how quickly time has been passing. And, despite the cliche, I still feel eighteen years old.

I have few regrets about my life, but I do harbor one great regret--perming my hair. I spent at least ten years with my hair permed and cut into short layers. I know, I know, it was the 80's and early 90's--everyone was doing it at the time. But I have come to realize that perming my hair may be the regret I dwell upon for the rest of my life.

I wore my hair in tight, mousse-covered ringlets all throughout my teen aged years. Add to that a combination of bad makeup, bodysuits, and really baggy pants and VOILA! Instant regret! I cringe every time I look at a picture of myself from those years.

Why, you may ask, have I included a picture of Richard Simmons in this post? The answer is simple: he is a representation of what I looked like for ten years.

Thank you, Richard Simmons, for being a constant reminder of why I don't actually want to go back in time and relive my youth.

Ready To Read

Normally, I am a prolific reader. Reading is my favorite way to spend time, and I can read fairly quickly, so I go through books pretty fast. And, for the most part, I have no problem finding reading material--there are so many great books being written all the time!

Every so often, however, I find myself in a slump. My motivation to read dies for awhile, and I abandon my favorite past time. When this happens, I rely on fellow readers to recommend a really great book. It almost always gets me reading again.

I am currently in a slump. So I appeal to you: RECOMMEND SOMETHING. I'm dying here....

As a tribute to this, my 100th post, I offer a quiz:

Can you name the character in the picture?

As usual, the winner will be awarded no prize whatsoever.

Okay, you can have my admiration.

Liar, Liar

First, I must warn you that this story may cause you to feel some disappointment in me. But--as part of a self-imposed penance--I am going to come clean.

I dislike the practice of door-to-door sales. The intrusion always catches me off guard, and I never know how to let the seller down gently. I have tried a few approaches: "No, thank you," "We're not interested," "We already have one of those," but none of them work so well as "I am unemployed right now." I know it's horribly dishonest and an insult to all those who actually are unemployed right now. I can assure you: after this experience, I will never use that excuse again.

One afternoon not long ago, I opened the door to find a teen aged boy standing on my doorstep. He was selling discount cards (like the Happenings Book...) for his high school football team. I listened to his sales pitch, then shrugged my shoulders and delivered my line. Of course, it worked like a charm, and he left without argument.

Only a few moments later did it occur to me that he looked somehow familiar. I suddenly realized that, in fact, he was familiar to me: he attended my church. This could not have been a worse situation. Now everyone at church would know one of two things about me: 1) I was unemployed or 2) I was a liar.

Panicking at the thought of burning forever in Hell, I chased the boy down the street, confessed my sin, and paid him $20.00 for the discount card.

"It's okay," he said. "My mom uses the same line."

And Many More...

My son has recently been invited to a rash of birthday parties. In fact, he attended two on Saturday alone. His fervor over each party reminded me how great it was to be a kid and to attend sugar-filled extravaganzas for each of my friends.

My own birthday parties were always very exciting, but perhaps none so much as my fifth, which was to be celebrated at the ultimate birthday party location: McDonald's. (At least, it was the ultimate location in the early 1980's--I realize it has now been surpassed by Chuck E. Cheese.) My sister and I would host a joint party, as our birthdays were only a week apart, and we were each allowed to invite several friends.

I was beyond excited at the prospect of enjoying my own Happy Meal while watching my friends sing songs in my honor and toss extravagant presents in my lap.

At the party, I was thrilled to learn that the birthday girl receives unlimited refills of Sprite. Delighted, I gulped down cup after cup. That--in combination with several leaps into the ball pit--caused me to feel a bit woozy. The party's climax came while my friends were singing "Happy Birthday" as my mom placed a caramel sundae in front of me, the birthday girl.

I don't remember much, but I do remember what my sundae looked like covered in vomit.

Reunited....And It Feels So Good

I am happy to announce that, thanks to several hours of couples counseling, my blog and I have decided to give things another try. We will be taking things slowly, as we still have many issues to work out. For instance, I have a tendency to be neglectful at times. And, conversely, my blog can be rather demanding. We are going to do our best to remain on good terms, despite our painful breakup in June.

Please wish us luck in our endeavor, and to those who may choose to rejoin us, we say:

HAPPY READING!

It's Over Between Us

Dear Blog:

This is not an easy letter to write, but I have been thinking about it for some time and have decided it's time to end things. I have been feeling a growing distance between us, and perhaps the time is right for us to go our separate ways.

Please don't be upset. It's not you, it's me.

We had some great times together, but I need my freedom to try new things. So, rather than feeling guilty about neglecting you or being embarrassed by a mediocre post, I will leave you now. That's right, this will be my last post on Jennie Banennie.

Hopefully, we can look back on our time together as pleasant and can remain friends. I will always treasure the moments we shared.

With much respect and devoted adoration,

Jennie

Beep Beep

I know it may be hard to believe, but sometimes I make mistakes. Yes, it's true. I have been known to be awkward and clumsy at times, and the combination of these two qualities can be difficult to overcome.

Last week, as I was backing my car out of the garage, I showcased my awkward clumsiness in a pretty major way. I drove into the wall. It was actually just a small 3-foot-wide barrier wall protecting the water heater and furnace, so it didn't cause the garage to collapse. It did, however, cause my self-esteem to collapse.

Please remember that this is our brand new house. How could I possibly face my husband after causing such destruction?

As I surveyed the damage, I considered possible ways to stage a cover-up. It would not be easy; the dry wall had cracked all the way to the ceiling. Still, there had to be a way to escape the situation without further humiliation.

I decided to leave town.

I write this from a hotel room outside of Las Vegas. If my husband asks, you haven't heard from me, and you have no idea what happened to the garage. Also, I am now going by the name "Dorinda."