jaimes

I just spent seven days in Virginia with family and friends, and I’m a little out of sorts. I’m in a weird mood that I’m not sure how to shake off. It’s been building for a while, but I wasn’t quite sure what was bugging me until now.

I tend to make an ass of myself, a lot. This is something my close friends have always known (and thankfully accept), but now that I broadcast my shenanigans through this blog and social networks like facebook, it brings the occasional insecurity to a whole new level. I put a lot of myself out there, from goofy photos and videos to confessionl style blog posts and then I wait. I wait for comments, reactions, virtual feedback for my vulnerable ego.

And if comments do not follow, I panic. This happened when my bff posted a video of me and one of my favorite people on the planet singing an impromptu song about donka doo balls. Yes, on Memorial Day when people were cooking out and even visting graveyards, I was making up a song on guitar that was inspired by reality tv and condiments. Of course, this video was posted on facebook. That’s what we do.

But when only a few people commented on the video, I got all panicky. (more…)

There is art. There is pornography. And then there is Regresty. And the combination of these elements is positively pornocraftic. I mean, you gotta love a website that has an entire category dedicated to vagina-inspired arts and crafts.

The photos above are real items you can buy for yourself or a loved one, such as… (more…)

I need funny stuff in my life like kids need naps. Laughing makes the world a much better place, and helps me get through stuff like bad hair days and dark circles. And while I really do try to stick to the “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” rule, I do openly laugh at unfortunate souls when necessary.

For example the other day, when my mama friend Patti and I heard about a terrible illness that could endanger lives in the Northwest United States. Sure, a normal response to tragedy would be, “how terrible,” or at least, “wow.” But no.

My reaction: “But, what would happen to the indie music scene if all those people died?”

Her response: “They would save themselves with flannel shirts.”

My reaction: “Oh, and the flannel shirt business would go under!”

Good Lord. The economy could be blown to smithereens at the fall of Portland!

So, you see, mean and funny go well together sometimes. Especially when a couple of tired moms get together and drink. And maybe after full-time mothering, your generosity meter runs out, and you need to laugh more than you need to be nice.

Regretsy gives me a reason to smile and feel superior on a daily basis. Go ahead. Laugh at the expense of others. They kind of asked for it when they attached monetary value to their “art.” (more…)

I am not the craftiest of mamas. I have some very crafty friends who have Etsy shops and handmade window treatments in their faux-finished living rooms, and I SO admire their skills. I’m just very lazy in the crafts department. But this morning when I looked at the growing by the second hole in my favorite pair of jeans, I decided to do something about it. I busted out the old sewing box my mom gave me years ago and fished around for a solution. And what did I find? A Led Zeppelin patch I got from the record store I worked in 15 YEARS AGO. Here’s what went through my head at this discovery…

Holy crap, I’m one of those old people with band patches from decades ago!

Would I look totally ridiculous if I sewed this patch on my jeans?

I don’t freaking care if I do look ridiculous. I have to act fast or my favorite jeans will be no more.

And then I looked at that nasty hole in my jeans and said, “I’m about to get crafty on your ass.”

And so I did. It’s not perfect, and if you look at the sewing from inside the jeans, it’s a hot mess. But, I’m proud of myself for being somewhat domestic. I even took a picture of myself with the end result. Notice the urban graffiti background to enhance the rock-n-roll jeans experience. This was taken near the infamous Krog Street tunnel in Atlanta.