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Yes, once again it is Cherday. (Somehow, tracking the week like this really does make Thursday feel like it pops up twice a week.) Anyway, at present I am flying around the house, with the Seal running along side of me wondering what fabulous chasing game we are playing, trying to get my stuff together so not to miss my plane. I have 18 minutes until Violet will start the car and after 4 years together, we have learned to pick our battles. Keeping her waiting is not one I am willing to attempt.
It’s not like NY doesn’t have internet, it’s just that I may or may not have time. But when I get back I promise to give my version to any and every story that hits the net regarding trouble I may or may not have caused.
Until then, Happy Cherday, everyone! Happy Friday-eve.
(Cher doesn’t have a song about Brooklyn, so I am posting this beautiful song by the Avett Btothers that Sinclair found for me.)
There is really nothing left to say. The title says it all. Happy Thursday, Happy Cherday!!! (if you are that guy, skip to second 31 to get to exactly what I am talking about.)
…this is the girl who, as a child, thought commercial breaks were so that the cartoon characters could take a little break to get a snack or use the bathroom before the show came back on.
I am apparently soooooo gay that when the nice young Jehovah Witness’ guys come to my door and I answer they say, “Um, hi. Oh, um, sorry… ma’am. We, um, have, um, the wrong address.” And they turn and walk away.
Sure, ok. Whatever. But ma’am!?!
Random? Yes. Do I care? No. Did this video just make my whole day? Yes. Is it Cher? No. Is it my favorite animal in the world (‘cept for the Seal) doing something incredibly remarkable and beautiful? Yes. Did I recently realize that I like to ask myself questions and then answer them? Yes. Why? Because it amuses me.
Now, watch this video.
Violet: It turns out we’re right by one of the best places in Hawaii to go sea kayaking with dolphins.
me: Ya, and sharks.
Violet: No, they don’t allow the sharks to kayak.
I can’t stop watching this video. Now, I know my inner fag is grinning like a little girl because of the show tune but the whole thing is making my tum feel like popcorn is popping. Like maybe I can save the rain forests somehow, maybe I should go to law school, maybe I am the best rollerblader ever who hasn’t tried rollerblading yet and it’s not just a reoccurring dream, maybe I should send my choreographed ‘CHER the Musical’ idea to Cher (that now most definitely has a leading role for Ms. Susan Boyle). Maybe you’ve seen this already? Does that really matter? Watch. this. video.
I hadn’t considered not having the internets, any of them, for our entire trip to Boston. It was as strange as it was refreshing. Do you even remember when you didn’t check your email every 10 minutes? Every two minutes? Or waiting until you got home to see who called? I sure didn’t.
Our trip, in a nutshell for now, seeing as my being absent from work was not easy on the folks here and I am quite busy (i.e. job security):
- The red-eye flight over was as miserable as I had thought it would be. However, sitting next to a swarm of fresh-outta-boot-camp-marines on the way home was almost as unpleasant. Minus the cute blond marine from Houston that sat right next to me. He was very sweet and answered my many, many vodka tonic(s) induced questions with the grace of a southern gentleman. Everything was answering with a “yes, ma’am” or “no ma’am”. I’m not sure how I feel about ma’am, but it was sweet, none the less.
- Boston was busy. Very, very busy. But nice. But Seattle is better. It fits me. I just like knowing that my yogurt is guaranteed to have more milk than corn syrup without reading the labels, but that is just me.
- The itty, bitty, very gay, very Jewish, flight attendant, Sparky, will get his own post.
- We made it to P-town, after an all day venture that will also probably get its own post. The trailer would include: getting hit with exploding cans of coke, grilled cheese and tomato with no cheese and no tomato, little bugs drinking more of the “water” than we did, and meeting !!Cher!! – Well, a drag version, but holy shit, did she do Cher almost better than Cher! Even Cher said so. My heart was all a flutter.
This is all for now. But I did miss you, internets, every single one of you.
I bought it. I registered the domain name justlikejessejames(dot)com. Why, you ask? I don’t know. None the less it’s mine… Aaaaaaall miiiine.
Try it. Type in justlikejessejames(dot)com up top there 
and watch, you’ll end up right back here. Magic, I tell you. Simply magic.
I don’t remember where or exactly when I heard this story, but I was young when I did and it stuck. For several reasons, it has been stuck in my head all week. I would love to sit all of the people I work with down on little nap-mats, give them a little organic juice pack to suck on and have story time with this little gem.
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During lunch, two construction workers always sit together on one of the rafters and eat together. As they open their lunches it always goes the same way. One opens his lunchbox and finds a fresh, crisp sandwich, a bag of chips, his favorite drink and a dessert of some sort, usually a chocolate chip cookie.
The other opens his lunch sack to find a squashed peanut butter and jelly sandwich on soggy white bread and that’s it. Every day, Monday through Friday, he seems totally surprised and disappointed to find the same thing and proceeds to start his lunch hour moaning, “Man, peanut butter and jelly again!?! I don’t even like peanut butter.”
One day the guy with the awesome lunch listens patiently to the other guy complain and finally asks, “Dude, why don’t you just ask your wife to make you something different?”
The guy holding his lifeless sandwich says, “Wife? No, my wife doesn’t make my lunch. I make my own sandwiches.”
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