The Post About Wearing a Girdle to the Hospital

Heart Day 2011
My parents celebrated 41 years of marriage this month.

Instead of gifting them with some snazzy "couple" gift like matching snuggies, I went with separate gifts since marriage really means a husband and wife making a conscious choice to stay in it to win it.

For my Mom, I bought us two tickets to Heart Day 2011. Our all-expense paid trip included an EKG, lipid profile, blood pressure screening and metabolic profile.


1. My mother was adamant I should have filled out the above form albeit it was only required if you're over 40. Let my attachment disorder commence.

2. Do not wear spanx for an EKG meant to begin and end quickly. Specifically, not a onesie. It's okay to sport a muffin top when medical professionals are weighing you.

3. The man who reads your test results and starts commenting on them with words like "pulmonary" and "medicinal" is probably a doctor. My mom questioned his qualifications when he didn't chest bump her for high blood pressure.

4. After fasting for 12 hours, we were on the prowl for coffee. The hospital was kind enough to serve it on the side of doughnuts, cinnamon rolls and snack packs of M&Ms. I'm guessing it was the "Screwyourtestresults" buffet.

5. My mother is the proud parent of a heart-of-an-athlete daughter. Although she's not really sure how old I am, she can rest assure my ticker's a good one.

Serious Sidebar: 90% of women have one or more risk factors of developing heart disease, the #1 killer of women. Check out the American Heart Association for great tips on reducing your risk!

{image: Jamie}


The Post About Heating up Your Workplace

Temperature for Productivity
Random tidbit in last month's Real Simple magazine.

Temperature is a harrowing topic at my workplace.

Here are the top 3 "heated" discussions we discuss when we discuss things in a heated discussory manner.

1. Dirty dishes left in the sink. There's some sort of regressive childhood disorder going on here. I blame doting mothers.

2. Coffee comparable to brake fluid. It's not good. You can pretend it is, but it's not. I will choose the high road on the brand, but it rhymes with Loyal Pup.

3. Talking in the hall outside someone's office.

My personal work pet peeve:
Entering the restroom immediately after someone else has taken care of some profound business. I work quickly to exit before someone enters and blames me for the assault on the senses. Is that just me?

For the record:
This gal with the muffin top is always freezing.

What's your work drama? PDA, disappearing staplers, keyed cars?

{image: Jamie}


The Post About Christmas in Lights

Since I was blog silent during the recent major holidays, I failed to share some fine chasing rabbit moments.

For New Year's, I visited Caryann in Nashville with the other bestie, Kara. We found ourselves searching high and low for entertaining activities since Kara's husband requested we avoid as much debauchery as possible.

Caryann is a self-proclaimed non-planner when it comes to non-work. This trait led to a riveting visit to
The Lipton Lights in Franklin, TN. This light display at a neighborhood house collects donations for the Lance Armstrong Foundation.

Helpful background information: Caryann tends to make friends with people who like to work puzzles. I am not one of those friends.

I apologize for that two minutes and eighteen seconds you'll never get back.

I'll be dropping a Whip My Hair cover soon.


The Post About Growing a Valentine

A gift from my friend Allison:
Grow a Man
He grows to full size in 3 days.

My friend Caryann's response:
"Why have you been waiting 35 years if it only takes 72 hours?"

I was asked this morning why a nice girl like me doesn't have a valentine. I'm reminded of one of my favorite movie quotes:

'For years I was too young to get married. And I went directly to 'Why aren't you married? What's wrong with you?' There were those 10 minutes in 1992 when I was exactly the right age and weight to be married. But I forgot to set the alarm and I slept right through it."

Gwen Moss,
'Til There Was You

Happy Valentine's Day to all my rabbit chasers! May you feel tons of love today.

Preferably in the form of gifts.

Rabbit Question? What's your favorite thing to get on V-Day?

{image: Jamie}


The Post About The Rabbit Recommends v.86

Each week I post a readable or watchable and/or a listenable of which I'm fond. You can choose what happens after my recommendation. Ignore, embrace, debate.

Earlier volumes of The Rabbit Recommends can be found


Parks & Recreation has replaced The Office as my favorite workplace comedy. I look forward to a revival affection for Michael Scott and the white collar gang when Will Ferrell guest stars at the end of this season. The P&R cast covers Entertainment Weekly this week with a feature article of 101 Reasons to Love Parks & Recreation. I agree with all of them.

This recent episode shows the town residents debating over what items should go in a time capsule.

One word: Twilight.

Some of my favorite quotes from Parks & Recreation:
I got my first job when I was 9. Worked at a sheet metal factory. In two weeks, I was running the floor. Child labor laws are ruining this country.

Yes, I'm married. But my wife understands that a good politician has to be appealing to the ladies. The fact that I haven't even gotten close to cheating on her is a disappointment to both of us.

I did a little research, and divorce is the number two most stressful event in a person's life. Of course marriage is number seven. So, watch out everyone. It's all bad.

Recommending Disclaimer: I don't suggest anything because I get it free or because I have some sort of illicit relationship with a former news anchor of SNL's Weekend Update. I save all of those questionable dealings for those who send me gifts on Valentine's Day.


The Post About Too Early for Beer

Trader Joe's is a poor man's Whole Foods. I heart it.

I was introduced to this delightful grocery store by my friend Allison. She may or may not have developed a passion for "Joe" based on the selling of
Two Buck Chuck.

Since Trader Joe's hasn't set up shop in Alabama, I'm forced to pull in whenever I'm traveling near one. I've been known to skip national monuments in order to get a recycled bag from here. Or a cheap set of votive candles from

On a recent stop at a Nashville Trader Joe's, I discovered this:

No Beer Until Noon
Mom - I wasn't purchasing any of this vile liquid. Big hug.

Despite a lack of affection for beer, I'd like to chat about this policy. What's the purpose in holding people back until the PM? Since Trader Joe's opens at 8am, there are 4 hours of no beer sales.

What's the point? Or better yet, what's your opinion on dry Sunday mornings?


Genuinely Curious

{image: Jamie}


The Post About Conversations: Judge Judy Said

I like to think my humor lies somewhere between "make you giggle" and "furrow your brow."

I'm often asked if my parents are funny.

This is the transcript of a conversation I had today with my mother that serves as Exhibit A in proving my parents' hilarity.

Like Judge Judy always said "Neither a borrower nor a lender be."

Umm... She didn't say that originally.

Well, of course not. The guy who invented electricity said it.

You mean God?

No, Benjamin Franklin.

I'm pretty sure it was Shakespeare who said that.

{rolling her eyes at me in exasperation} Uh, Benjamin Franklin was QUOTING Shakespeare.

{blink. blink.}

Disclaimer demanded by my mother:
She was remembering Benjamin Franklin saying that while appearing in an episode of Bewitched.

Further evidence to support my claim.


The Post About The Rabbit Recommends v. 85

In the past, I've posted a readable or watchable and/or a listenable of which I'm fond. I realized I didn't have to be married to that format since the rabbits are not the boss of me. However, I'll still post things I love and they will often fall into those categories.

You can choose what happens after my recommendation. Ignore, embrace, debate.

Earlier volumes of The Rabbit Recommends can be found

I cannot recommend Joy Williams & John Paul White of The Civil Wars enough. I've tried. But thousands of us who have spent our hard earned cafemochaandpoundcake money on their new album, Barton Hollow, can't all be wrong since it's #1 this week on iTunes. You can snag a free download of the title track at iTunes or Topspin. And then you can snag the delightful single "Poison & Wine" for free on Amazon. AND THEN you can snag their album Live at Eddie's Attic for free at Sensibility Music.

Then take your dollars & cents and help them feed their bellies.

This song, To Whom it May Concern, is currently on repeat. I offer it up as a prayer to God and Neil Clark Warren.

I caught them live at Workplay in Birmingham Friday night and it was scrumptious. As were Joy's shoes.
The Civil Wars at Workplay
They're at the beginning of a great tour with Lucy Schwartz, so catch them if you can. I cross my heart that you won't regret it.

{image: Jamie}


The Post About The Slushdicament of Winter

Snow on Leaves
I love the seasons.

Two of them.

Ahh, there's the sun. And tulips and Reese's Easter Eggs and hair that doesn't have to fight static or humidity.

College football and boots and Halloween and a reprieve from bad summer TV programming.

Summer in Alabama is really not worth discussing. Humidity, bugs, and people wearing less clothing than God intended.

But the real stick in the mud is winter.

Here are the top 5 things I despise about Old Man Stupidhead.

Chapped lips. Lip balm causes heart disease. Because it sure as heck can't seem to moisturize lips.

Gas. You evil, evil utility. My cyber friend, Laurel Mills recently tweeted "...glad to have worked so hard this week just to pay the gas company." Boo to warmth.

Darkness. I still don't fully grasp Daylight Savings. Can we add the sassy extra hour of sleep with no astronomical effect? YES WE CAN.

Sadness. Closely related to #3. I don't speak to my girlfriend Kara because she's all seasonally disordered in winter. Vitamin D, vitamin D, where for art thou Vitamin D?

Global Warming Discussions. Nothing like some sleet to prompt opinions on meteorology. Mine included. For the record, your Facebook News Feed isn't ACTUALLY NEWS. If you don't trust Diane Sawyer, how can you trust your 4th grade lab partner who you don't see in real life to tell you what to think about anything.

What chaps your hide in Winter? Or better yet, what is delightful that I seem to be missing?

{image: Jamie}


The Post About The Devastation of 35

Since the boy who almost left his shirt on my car bumper brought my blog back to life, I think it's fair to share what caused the temporary writing coronary.

I celebrated a birthday - November 5, 2010.

It was the best of times. Girlfriends and Italian food and big hair and presents. I can't wait to tell you about the presents.

It was also the worst of times. Thirty. Five.

A number that didn't sit well. It was like a plane that suffered some turbulence on the approach and then crash landed in the river. And not a Chelsy Sullenberger in sight to save it.

I felt sadness. And then more soul-crushing sadness. I couldn't pick out the guy in the lineup who had broken in and stolen my joy.
I suddenly sensed I'd been left behind. Friends were married with children. And not married for 2 years, but 10. Their children weren't toddlers, but pre-teens. I had friends who spoke 3 languages and owned businesses and operated on brains and had passports.

I tried to conjure a list of all the blessings in my life. But the only thing I saw on the paper was a chicken scratched directory of missing moments and failed attempts at progress.


So writing about all the minor rabbits I still chased almost hourly seemed like placing a magnifying glass on all the major rabbits that were missing.

Blech. Part deux.

So I went radio silent. And not just with my writing, but with reading too.
Google Reader
This was my Google Reader as of this morning with more than FIVE THOUSAND unread posts. Como se dice "Holy Moly?"

I had forsaken my blog and any and all other blogs

But it's a new day. One God designed for me. How did He manage to pull me from the funk? Well, there was some head patting and then some nudging and then there was a guy named Peter who tried to cross the road in Toms.

"Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do My best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious - the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not the things to curse." Philippians 4:8 The Message

P.S. I've settled my debts with 35. She and I are going to try and learn to live together amicably until her uglier, ignorant cousin 36 moves in.


The Post About Blogging Again Due to a Boy in Toms


I had a birthday on November 5. This was the date my blog flatlined.

It may be related to a little mid-life shindig where calm and mature self-reflection morphed into yelling at God and my friends and the ladies of The View.




Seriously, what's a girl got to do to maintain some Kelly Kapowski hair?

I'll share a little more about the Rabbits being dead in the water tomorrow. I promise.

So what brought me out of this funk? It's all about a boy in skinny jeans and Toms. Let me share...

This morning, I went to Samford University, for work. For reference sake, SU is a religiously-affiliated institution.

As I drove around the gorgeous campus, I was transported to a time several years ago when I hit a boy in khakis & a polo because my laser vision had locked on an available parking spot and not the road. He was fine, so good times.

Today, as I drove 15 mph, I noticed a boy chatting with a girl in an adjacent parking lot 100 feet away. He started running. Fast.

In the next 4.5 seconds, I imagined hitting him with my car. Not in a vindictive way, but simply because it might be unavoidable. Plus, I had the right of way - no crosswalk, no stop sign. Then I thought of the wisdom of Evelyn Couch who, in a similar situation, responded "I'm older and I have more insurance."

But then he stopped running.

No collision, right?

But he started running again.

And he tripped and made out with the sidewalk. I slammed on my brakes and swerved right into a road sign.

Here's the transcript of what followed:
Are you okay?

Dude, you almost hit me with your car?"

- - This may have been when the director asked me to lose my marbles - -


I was late for Econ and I thought I could make it.

- - And then I saw them - -

Dude, you CAN'T RUN in Toms. That's why the kids in AFRICA don't even want them!!!

- - I realize I'm acting like a crazy person - -

Let's start over. My name is Jamie.

Hi. My name is Peter.

- - Apparently, I wasn't emotionally prepared to start over. - -

You're kidding, right? Of course, you're Peter.


You know, doofus disciple who did stupid things before thinking?

Dude, Peter was awesome.

Well, this was your equivalent of trying to walk on water.

God may be trying to rid the earth of guys wearing women's jeans and plaid shirts.

Be forewarned.
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