Life Before Facebook

Don’t get me wrong, I love Facebook. So much so that I’ve added it to my early morning routine. It goes something like this.

1. Wake up. Put feet on floor. Avoid mirror.
2. Make coffee. Tap fingers while waiting on coffee
3. Cheat, slip cup under agonizing slow drip and get first cup
4. Sit in front of computer until coffee hits brain

After fueling, I check Facebook to see who’s celebrating another birthday, what animals need rescuing, and other miscellaneous posts. It’s what I do. However, some days it leaves me cold. It’s on those days that I’m reminded of a time when writing/receiving letters or cards was an important line of communicating with friends and family.

Whatever happened to writing a page or two, or even a short message (dare I say it?) longhand; and then actually mailing them? Who doesn’t love getting something in the mail besides, “we’re going to come and get your stuff if you don’t pay.” Bawwhahaha…you want my dust? Puleaseeee, be my guest.

For the record, I do have ONE friend who writes and it is always so exhilarating to know a letter is on the way. I wait impatiently with double—no wait, triple excitement as I watch for the post-person to deliver my friend’s fun-filled, detailed letter. Planting myself by the window, I watch…and wait…and wait. Kinda like the coffee thing.

Then…spotting the vehicle carrying my bounty, I race out to the mailbox in case she even thinks about NOT stopping. Post-person pulls up, rolls her eyes (why does she do this?) as I thrust my hand in her face and yell at the top of my lungs, ‘GIMME! GIMME!’ By the way, what’s a duffus?

Sadly, it seems writing letters or sending cards is a dying art. Well, except for bill collectors. Yet why?

Its fun, your replies can stir creative juices in your mind, and it keeps the post office in biz. It is a win-win.

Thank goodness peeps like Pam have excellent cards for practically nutin' so I can continue spreading joy (or some would say, manure) to my buds. Why not write to someone today; specifically, ME. Make it as straightforward as you want. Or lie. Lying is acceptable along with gossip, half-truths, and even no truths. Just write. I’ll be waiting outside with my dictionary looking up new words; like duffus.

Queenie - Waiting impatiently for letters, cards, and what the heck; donations in large, unmarked green bills; not the other kind.

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Top 5 Most Annoying Commercials

Every once in a while I need a rant. Here tis. Commercials annoy me. Like I need a car that can drive faster than I can sneeze? Or see a family of mucus doing the rumba in my throat?

However, if I listed every single commercial that annoys me, this blog would never end. So I narrowed it down to the "Top 5 Most Annoying Commercials" here in the Queendom.

Here they are listed one to five, with number FIVE being the big winner.

The AD SHAMEPAIGN...

1. Swifter Duster - Somebody please fire that ad person. You're not funny, you're overpriced, and I have one word left for you. MUTE. This commercial makes my butt want to crochet barbwire. Nuff said.

2. Victoria's Secret - Here's the REAL secret. Out of the bazillion women in the world, 10 can wear your "stuff." The rest of us visit the store, find nothing fits our bodes, gag at the prices, and then go home and eat a box of Oreo's. I have one word for you and it's a special one. P-O-R-N. What's the difference in that and VS commercials? And now I'm making room for all of the comments from the bazillion men in the world.

3. Old Navy - The talking mannequin movie was done in the 70s. Get over it. I have one word for you. Done. Make that two. Boring. There are tons of ad people unemployed. Fine one that's hungry and dump the ones insisting we'll LOVE seeing more talking mannequin's using words like "bootie." Hell-O OLD NAVY! Old being the operative word here.

4. Musinex - Do I really have to tell you that the short, ugly, slimy, fat guy with the raspy voice WILL NOT, I repeat, WILL NOT make me rush out and buy your product? I have one word for you. Gross. Make that one, GROSS. Notice the all caps? Pay attention because you almost made it to number five which is the MOST ANNOYING.

And the MOST ANNOYING COMMERCIALS ARE...

5. Political Ads - I could write a thesis here. You call our homes all day with recorded messages AND after 7:00 at night, UNINVITED, and right in the middle of "Dancing with the Stars." This alone should get you jail time.

You invade our TV's, ad nauseam (pun intended), and you sling mud against your opponent thinking this will make YOU look all innocent-like. My kids used to try that one. Didn't work for them either.

Do you stop there? Are you KIDDING me?

You send mail giving us more "dirt" on your opponent, you blatantly campaign at funerals (Hey, why not? In some states, the dead vote anyway), and you actually stand on the highway waving at us as we go to work. Some call this "target practice." I'm just sayin'...

Listen up...we're tired of you. You have nothing new to say, no respect for the voter's intelligence, and you never tell us what YOU will do. What you give us is the standard lines of "more jobs, more industry for our states, then more mud slinging. This is older than the dust in my living room. Too bad I can't "Pledge" you away...Pledge. That's the word I have for you.

The Pledge of Allegiance...try reading it. Or the Constitution. Remember those?

Quite frankly, I would love to see you run away with the mop and the mannequin, in fancy underwear that rides up in places that never see sunshine, doing the rumba.


JJ - Feeling better already! Who made YOUR list?

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Senior Citizens Discounts - I'm in!

I love coupons, don't you? Just think. You can get 50 cents off a product if you buy ten of them! How cool is that?

Whatttt? Oh sure, like you couldn't use ten cans of potted meat? I suppose next you'll tell me you've never heard of potted meatloaf. Potted spaghetti? Mac and potted cheese? Potted roast? A milk potted bath?

No matter; 'cause recently I discovered there's an even better discount going on called, "Senior Citizen discounts." Now I know you find it hard to believe I fall into this category, but alas, da Queen here is a SC. Young at heart, yet senior in body and mind. Let's hope they don't catch up to each other.

AnyHOO...did you know you can get Senior Coffee at McDonalds, Hardee's and all the other fast food places? Not only that, but you can drive around and go back thru the window and get another one! Same discount. I ain't lying, either. Another three trips and you have a full cup, too. Only in America.

Movies, restaurants, hotels, and even some concerts offer senior discounts. Car insurance? Discount. Clothing? Discount. Some places even DOUBLE your coupons on Saturday. I swear, senior discounts are like bird poop, they are everywhere! There's even discounts for Gyms, if you're crazy enough to join one.

So tell me; why aren't doctors and hospitals in on the game? Hello? Would it hurt them to offer a dollar or two off broken bones or surgery? I can just see it now..."Ah, Ms Queenie, that will be $14,278 dollars to remove your appendix, BUT! Today, if you let us take out that nasty old gall bladder, you get a two-fer. Two for the price of one! Whatcha say? You in?"

A two-fer? You betcha! This old gal wasn't born yesterday and I know a deal when I hear one. I may have to cut back on the potted meat sales, but a two-fer? I'm in.

Come one peeps...get with it. Seniors rule. At least for the next twenty years or so.

Discounts - that's what I'm talkin' bout.

JJ - Plotting, potting, and discounting her way through life.

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Grandchildren Teach Us

My grandchildren offer me insight, eye-openers, and heartburn. They also give me pure and unconditional love. Who else does that?

The most important thing they offer though is lessons in life, should I care to learn them.

After this past weekend at Bernie's grandma’s house, I was once again the student.

My grandchildren taught me:

1. Kids are smarter than we are, or were. When discussing upcoming birthdays, it seems I'm not "with it." In their hip language, one said, "Grandma," (insert rolling eyes); "Check THAT off your list. Nooooobody gets THAT!" Well excuse me...if an etch-a-sketch was good enough for ME at six, it should be good enough for you.

A laptop? I don't thinkkkkkk so. Who do I look like, Donald Thrump? (Okay, maybe on a bad hair day, but that's beside the point)

2. Kids love, absolutely LOVE games and especially hide and seek, i.e., hiding things of great value from grandma. Anybody seen my glasses?

3. Kids love to sleep with grandmas. Two kids and one fluffy grandma cannot sleep in one bed no matter how much you cling to the side. Don't EVEN suggest taking out the three dolls, a teddy bear missing a nose (that's another story), or their favorite books, movies, and half-eaten fruit. Snug as a bug in a rug...sigh.

4. Kids want to help. Teaching them responsibility is a good thing unless they decide to water your plants when you're not around...and the hardwood floors. Shop vacs...they are our friend.

5. Kids love bath time and getting naked. They also love to watch grandma's hissy fit when they run outside to greet the neighbors. Never turn your back on a 4-year old. EVER.

6. Kids love to dance; however, showing them YOUR moves from 196_ is a big mistake. Suddenly, you feel your age and the hysterical laughter doesn't help.

7. Kids love to help make milkshakes. Note to self: Check lid on mixer. Keep shop vac near.

8. Kids love to play dress up. Especially wearing your favorite blouse as they eat Spaghetti-O's. Ewww...Shop vac's can't fix that.

9. Kids love makeup and perfume. They love smearing it on until they resemble hookers...oh, and making the cat smell pretty. At least now the cat can't hide. I just follow the smell. Padlocks, they are ALSO our friend

10. Kids love their grandmas. Why not? It's the only place they can come, totally be kids, and eat, drink, and ah…be scary.

I love my grandchildren more than my life. They make me so happy when they arrive. On more adventurous days I’ll admit, I'm equally happy when they depart.

My grandbeauties have taught me that sleep, glasses, and live plants—these things can be replaced—but love, unconditional love bestowed with giant hugs and sloppy kisses...never.

JJ, the proud grandma knowing they just don't make a Hallmark for that.

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When Old Friends Collide

This past week I had the pleasure of dinner with some classmates from high school...the "girls," as I've labeled them.

Yes, we graduated like a 100 years ago, but that night, just that one night, we were sixteen again.

The chatter was nonstop and the laughter, tales, and love for one another was alive and intact, even after all these years.

By the way, if they mention anything I did in school, it's a lie. I was framed, I tell ya, framed.

Time may think it has been successful in being unkind to us and our bodies, but time be damned. I saw girls that have been transformed into some of the most beautiful women on earth.

I saw nothing but sparkles in each woman's eyes. There was evidence of growth and maturity of the best kind as they told the stories of their lives since school. I witnessed a love for each other that cannot be measured, nor interrupted. Not even by time.

Yes, the wrinkles and our "fluffiNESS," was there. No one noticed. Like a buried time capsule, we opened every memory and discovered lost treasures, once again.

Each "girl" undoubtedly left with a full heart. Time may have changed us physically, but time cannot alter hearts that are connected. It cannot penetrate, or harm, the love that was passed back and forth across the table that night, because just like the ketchup bottles, it was refilled.

As the nice people at the restaurant turned out the lights, (Yes, we closed them down) we parted with many hugs and with tears, and also promises to meet again, very soon.

I'll not deny that time does march on, but for one night--that one, special night--time was gracious and oh so giving, allowing us to fill the atmosphere with our yesterday's.

Most of all, we walked away knowing...we did, and we do, matter.

Dinner = $14.00 bucks and worth every penny
Whose boobs now touches our knees = It was a draw
Who did what in school = I was framed I tell ya!

Rekindled friendships = Priceless

JJ - Proudly, one of the "girls"

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New Friends Needed

I have a friend who just put in a pool. She's worried that Wally World might not have the outdoor cushions for her lounge chairs in the color she wants.

My heart bleeds.

Another friend just received a new car for her birthday from hubby...plus tickets to her favorite entertainer, a first class hotel, and moola to spend on...whatever. It's out of town, so should she drive the new Lexus or take the Corvette?

What a burden.

And yet another said she's retiring and found out her retirement was actually more than she's bringing home NOW. But she's worried and has committed herself to monthly pedicures instead of weekly.

It's a cold world (insert rolling eyes)

Then there's my friend who says its near impossible to find a summer home on the river complete with furnishings...this was said as she forked over 300.00 for a pair of shoes.

Let's see...that's 150.00 per foot.

I'm not jealous of my buds. Okay, big fat lie. I'm jealous down to the bone, but I DO love them. Honest injun.

It's obvious though, I need a new set of friends.

I've decided to hang with deadbeats from now on so that my life can appear suckLESS. So, if you want to run with da Queen, you must first meet my low standards.

Da Queen's Running Buddy Qualifications are:

• You work your fingers to the bone yet you're always broke
  
• You're wearing underwear the same age as your oldest child
  
• You're car is older than the underwear
  
• You buy store brand items vowing they do not taste like cardboard
  
• You've convinced your cat that bologna is good for them
  
• Your 401K is...wait, never mind, you don't have one
  
• You like fried pickles (I just threw that one in, it's optional)
  
• The Salvation Army gives YOU stuff
  
• You don't have any bad vices cause you can't afford to be bad
  
• You peep through your neighbors windows to watch cable
  
• You rob Peter to pay Paul...and Mary
  
• Your "decision-making" dial is set permanently on stupid

Applications are now being accepted on a first-come basis.

Whoever said writing was a profitable business, didn't write humor for a living. The line forms at the rear. Mine...for kicking.

JJ - Down and out in Alabama

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What's in a Name?

A friend of mine says her name gets slung around and misused all the time. Same here. When you have a name that is synonymous with a state, and you live in a town that is also a part of that state, guess where your mail goes.

Living in Athens, AL, but having the first name, Georgia, means that well-meaning letters and post go to Athens, Georgia, then they are returned to sender.

That's when I'll get a call or email saying, "Hey, your letter/card/check was returned to me." CHECK? You sent my CHECK to the wrong place? A pox on you! Why I ought-a-- Ahem...sorry.

I've considered having my name changed to prevent this, but what's in a name? Heritage, that's what.

I was named after my Uncle George who drowned at a tender, young age...and I adored him. He was kind, gentle, and everyone that knew him loved him. I'm hoping for name-osmosis. Hey, it could happen. So change my name? No way.

But it's not only mail that gets sent to that other state, it's callers who don't know me and who take liberties with the pronunciation...LIKE Georgie (I detest that one), or Georgianna, or Georgina. How hard is it is say, GEORGIA? It's two syllables, for Pete's sake. GEOR-GIA.

There you have it. One name, two syllables. Except, of course, when it was Mom. Then it became Georgia Lynn Staggers! Did you do ____! (fill in the blank) and yes, I usually did it. Bawwwhahahah...but that's another story for another day.

I'm proud of my name and love the fact that Uncle George is looking down and most likely saying, "I-ya-ya...that girl...is she a mess or what?"

I ams who I ams...you can call me Georgie (but you're out of the Will), call me Georgianna, call me Hard-headed Hanna, or anything else you want to call me...within reason, of course. I will answer. Especially if you have a check in hand.

A Queen by any other name is still a Queen.

Geor-gia (pronounced Jaw Jaw when said realllll slow and reallll Southern)

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Celebrating the 4th, and Towanda

Americans everywhere are cleaning out the old grills, making homemade ice cream, buying up hot dogs (the nectar of the Gods) and getting ready to celebrate the 4th of July. Sure wish the firemen would let me use my grill again.

AnyHOO...I'm celebrating too. Only my celebration of freedom and independence is two-fold today.

Freedom and independence means celebrating first why we are free (Thanks to ALL of our Armed Forces, love you!) but it also means celebrating who we really are because we have been given this precious choice.

It means never having to tell a lie about how you feel, what you think, or if those pants really do make your best friend look wider than a moving van.

It also means being all that you can be, stretching yourself daily, and living the life you really want; despite the naysayers.

I like to think of myself as Towanda (Kathy Bates) from the movie Fried Green Tomatoes.

Whenever I pull into a Wally World parking lot, I always remember those morons who deliberately steal Towanda's parking space right out from under her. Bawwwhahahaha...bad move, whippersnappers.

In an instant, her life of being the whipping post for others and always doing what they told her she should do, flashed before her eyes.

Towanda snapped. Enough was enough. She slammed into their car and kept doing it until she felt empowered. She drove off a new and happy person, changed for life. From that day forward, she was true to her own self.

Are you being true to yourself?

You don't have to run over anybody, or their car, to be the woman/man you want to be. Just follow your gut and live your dream. If you aren't living your dreams, whose dreams are you living?

Towanda yourself!

If you want to be a singer, do it.
If you want to be a dancer, do it.
If you want to be an actor/actress, for Pete's sake, do it!

If you want to be a humor writer, a pox on you. Just joshin' with ya, Hun...do it!

Celebrate who you "really" are inside and if you start having doubts, just shout to the world, TOWANDA ...and feel the power!

I know I do...

JJ - Celebrating her TowandaNESS

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