How To Write a Blog at Least Once a Year or Would Someone Please Remind Me That I Have a Blog.

Blog...blog...blog...blah...blah...blah...

I'm trying this blogging thing one more time... someone please remind me every so often that I have a blog so I'll write on it.

This blog will be stories about every day life---things that actually happen to me---with at least a modicum of truth in the stories.  They may be exaggerated, just a hair, for comedic purposes only.

So, if you know anyone who smiles, with teeth, often, please ask them to like or post a comment or view this thing or whatever bloggers need to get some kind of attention.

Or maybe blogging is out of style.  How would I know?  I barely know how to sign in to my own blog.



I have 2 jobs right now that I get about $1.25 a month.  If this blogging thingy works out, I may or may not be working at my current jobs.

 I work with seniors at the YMCA (not high school seniors).  I teach chair yoga, Pilates and Silver Sneakers.  Basically, I do chair yoga and Pilates because the ending is a 5 minute time to take a nap or to get myself ready to take a nap when I get home.

I do a little more in Silver Sneakers where I basically teach the 60 and up crowd how to get their heartbeat up by doing 60s/70s dances--the swim, the jerk (this one usually injures them), the pony, the monkey, the hitchhiker, disco and a few new ones like the water sprinkler and lawn mower.

My other job is a home based business where I do a lot more home than business. I sell healthy herbs, spices and oils for those who want to eat healthy.  I do this mainly because I like the products and do not want to die earlier than I need to.

But what usually happens is that a customer will tell me how they'd like to buy some products but she is SO strapped for money right then and then tell me a very convincing sad story of woe.  I, then, usually feel sorry for her and give her the product and a massage and a pedicure on the spot.  It's later that I found out that "the customer" was on her way to a Thirty-One party  or Premiere Jewelry where she spent $150.

So you see my dilemma?  I either need to quit sleeping in exercise class or get some actual customers or ask you to get one bazillion people to view this blog so I can continue to sleep in exercise class and give away my product.

McKenna, my daughter, is on her way to a Thirty-one convention right now and if she would get every 31 consultant which is about 1 out of 2 people in the world, to view my blog, I'd really get some readership!

I have always wanted to be and do a lot of different careers.  No, not  actual careers, maybe just jobs.  Well, maybe not jobs, just experiences. Well, maybe just something to do on any given day so I won't get bored.

I started school to be a dancer and be on variety shows.  But I don't really have the drive to do anything big.  It's not that I'm lazy; I'm efficient.  That means I wait until I need to do several "standing up things" before I get off the couch and then I sit until another set of standing urges happen. 

 I changed majors to  be a journalist, mainly because that is something I can do sitting down. But, I found out that I tend to not listen to details and make up funnier ones.

After college, I interned at a TV station and waited to be discovered.  While waiting,  I signed up to be substitute in the school system.  I had just moved to this area and didn't know that there were several counties.  I ended up signing up in the roughest, toughest, rootin' tootin' county in this area.   Immediately I was called by the "scary" school, but, since I'm not into details, I did not know that.  I was 22 and I looked 12 and I ended up staying at that school (Josey) that whole semester.

I did not get killed or pillaged or anything.  

During that summer, I still interned at night and worked at odd jobs through Manpower.  I helped open new banks and did camera demonstrations at KMart.

By the next fall, Josey High School still needed a sub for, wait for it...wait for it... Driver's Ed.  So at 22,  I taught  the hormonal 15 yr olds to drive.  This is extra funny if you know me because I don't even like to drive!  My friends call me "Driving Miss Daisy" because they always have to pick me up.

 Next, I got a job in Public Relations at the Medical College of GA.  We were assigned stories, but also pick topics to explore. We were allowed to interview with anyone working at the college and write our story.   For my picks, I mostly interviewed psychiatrists about obscure diseases. Thus, became my lifelong hobby of murder and mental illness.   But I will tell you that if you are joining a club or a church, do not write those as your hobbies!

Then we moved to Delaware.

In my PR job there, I once dressed up as a giant chicken for United Way of Delaware and was in a parade.  It was so fun until I realized that we had "paraded" to a really bad part of town.  I was standing in the ghetto as a giant chicken and my car was at the start of the parade.  So, what to do, take off the the poultry head and be in possible danger or leave it on and walk two miles back as a chicken?

I clucked and flapped my wings all the way back.

After my Chicken Job, I accidentally started teaching 3 yr. old preschool at the Y.  They couldn't find a teacher so I said I'd be happy to sub until they got a teacher.  And I did and I was there every day for 9 months when incidentally, had my second child the day after class was over.  Think about it...it's a math equation!

After my near death of being roadkill and playing with small children who "were supposed to be potty trained" before they could start school,  we moved to Atlanta.  I accidentally (again) became a preschool music teacher.  I took my kids to to preschool one morning and they had just fired their music person.  I offered to help them out until they found someone.

 I stayed 3 1/2 yrs. and taught the kids words like glockenspiel and the words to show tunes.  The only class I got in trouble with was the time I gave everyone a band-aid to put over their mouths so  they could only hum during class.

Then we moved to Upstate New York.

I did not find any jobs there nor did I get one by accident.  But, in my defense,  we stayed there less than a year.

But while there, I met some great friends and I threw a "If I'd known you when I moved in, I would have given you a baby shower" to one of my new friends.   By this time her child was about 5 months old so everyone gave her a used toy.   I made two cakes using the "doll dress" cake mold.  I put them side by side and iced them like a pair of boobs because she was nursing.

Another party I hosted was my own surprise birthday party.  Lance was out of town on business on my birthday.  I invited all of the neighborhood women to come to a potluck supper.  When they showed up, I told them, "surprise, it's my birthday party.   I gave each one them a gift (that I had bought for myself) to give me for my birthday.  After supper, everyone circled around while I opened the gifts.  It was the first time I had ever gotten everything I wanted!

Lance has not been out of town for any of my other birthdays.


Then we moved back to South Carolina.

Here I've done about 14 different things and am up to date with my jobs from the first part of the blog.

Two things that I still haven't done but they are in my sights are  1. Be a dog walker like Dharma and  2. Be a writer like Erma Bombeck (for those that aren't old, Google her).  Bombeck was a writer that made me laugh until she wrote something about dying of kidney disease.  Really, one should not laugh about that. 

Now, after you politely ask a big wad of people to view my musings, I will post my boring days, not so boring days, silly days, and crazy days.  Occasionally, I might even be serious.

I think I initially started this as a food blog, but I've changed my mind. But since I barely know how to type, I'll just leave the fork motif on it. 

Thanks for helping me on my quest to be the new Erma Bombeck.  If this doesn't work, will you let me walk your dog?

Thanks for sticking with me and remember to occasionally send me a message so I'll remember to write!

Love,

JLou or Joo Joo to my grandkids

P. S.  I am tired, it's late.  If I made any grammatical errors that spell check did not catch...I don't care!  Pretend that you are not OCD about that kind of thing.