Pre-Natal and Post-Natal Exercise Program...In Beaumont!

   (Photos by Beaumont Enterprise) 

My brilliant daughter-in-law is teaching pre-natal and post-natal exercise classes for pregnant women and babies up to 6 months old at the Christus St. Elizabeth Health and Wellness Center.  

Click here for a video. 

Free for members, $5 for non-members

Tuesday and Thursday

12:15 p.m. - 1:00 p.m.

Christus Health and Wellness Center

3030 North Street

Beaumont, TX  77702

For more information:

Call: 409-899-777

E-mail: jacquelynn.conger@christushealth.org

(Pictures by Beaumont Enterprise)

"...or, maybe it's a rat."

When the exterminator was here the other day, he said the words, "...or, maybe it's a rat."  I'm not sure exactly what he said, because I sort of blacked out after that.

Last night, I got home from visiting my grand-fabulous-babies and noticed my rug in front of my stove was askew.  At first, I thought I moved it when I pushed my kitchen island out of the way to put my Lean Cuisine's in the freezer...the ones I bought because I left my freezer open yesterday...if you're keeping track.

So, I grabbed the rug and pulled it straight and it had been gnawed, about six inches toward the center of the rug in some parts, along the edge that had been under my stove.  Sonofabitch.  What the hell kind of varmint do I have that is strong enough to pull a rug.  Granted, it's a flexible rubber cushiony rug (that I spent $20 damn dollars on two months ago), but still.  That ain't no mouse.

I banged on the drawer to scare away whatever gnawed the rug and then pulled the drawer out.  At the back of the wall under my stove, there is a hole around the electrical wiring for the stove.  Bingo.  That's where the furry bastard is getting in.  There were pieces of the rug scattered about, but no nest, thank you Baby Jesus.

I slept last night, when I did sleep, with my bedroom door closed and a pair of blue jeans stuffed under the door. I had bad dreams all night, mostly about married people having affairs in the front seat of my car while I was driving and the people in the back seat of my car thought I was stupid to be annoyed by that.  What that has to do with vermin infestations, I do not know.

An interesting thing I discovered about having a mouse in your house is that everybody has a story.  Even the lady at the pest control place who answers the phone told me her story.  It's one of those little secrets that people don't talk about. 

When I had a ghost in my house, at first I was hesitant to tell people.  I soon found out that every single person I speak to about it has a personal ghost story.  It's comforting, in a creepy sort of way, to find out that everyone also has a "I had a gotdamn mouse in my house" story, too.

When It Rains...yada, yada, yada

My life has a rhythm.  Things be-bop along fine for months and months, then crap happens.  My current series of crap started with mouse droppings.

I woke up yesterday morning and there was what looked like mouse turds in front of my hall closet.  The exterminator came out and said, basically, "Lady, if you had that many mice, you'd be overrun with 'em." 

He picked up my couch, he looked under cushions, he walked all over my house and searched with his little flashlight, didn't find anything and didn't charge me a penny.  It appears I brought the mouse poop into my house in a box of things I got out of my mom's garage when we were cleaning it out Sunday.  I want to marry the mouse-man, but I don't suppose his wife and three kids would approve.  (Note:  If you have insect/vermin/pest problems call Guardtech 409-813-2297.)

While doing my own mouse hunt this afternoon, I noticed my dryer vent "hose thingy" was torn and the subsequent hot air blowing under the wallpaper in my laundry room was causing the wallpaper to peel off the wall.  So, I got on the floor, patched the "hose thingy" with duct tape and ripped the wallpaper off the wall.

That was after getting home from work and finding my freezer door open.  Everything was thawed out.  Everything.  Every Lean Cuisine, every P. F. Chang meal, every damn thing.  Nice.

While I was bringing out the trash full of everything in my freezer and the old wallpaper, I noticed the sheetrock about to come down in my garage ceiling.  Seriously?  Yes, seriously. 

So, I put the garbage out, moved my car to the other side of the garage away from the threatening sheetrock, came back in the house, locked the door and sat on the couch.  That's it.  I'm done.  American Idol, it's you and me kid.  Make my day.

Why Would You Do That?

The other day I saw somebody's name online with a weird spelling.  That's not unusual, but the name was "Jaine."  Basically, Jane.  You can't get more basic than that.  Jane.  Why would somebody do that?  Do they think it's cute?  It's not.  It's annoying.

I used to work in a doctor's office and the people who spelled their kids names in what I assume they thought was an exotic and unique way would get all huffy if I started writing, for example, "Jane" without a freaking "i."  Pains in my ass.

Here are some more I found online:

Payge = Paige
Emilee = Emily
Cacey = Casey
Keven = Kevin

On another note, while I was Googling...um, researching...weird name spellings, I found out that I'm not the only person who doesn't know how to spell Gaddafi/Kadafi/Qaddafi.

.

What do hubcaps and blackheads have in common?

Yesterday, I brought my car to the Bay Bright Car Wash on Dowlen Road here in Beaumont.  I had heard good things about it, but I must have missed the part about having to stay in my car as it's being pulled through the scrubbers and sprayers.  As I sat trapped in my car at the mercy of the big scary machines, I imagined myself being crushed, drowned and electrocuted.  It seems the older I get, the more neurotic I get.  Something else to look forward to.

When I reached the end of Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, I pulled into one of the bays where my car would be detailed.  I was barely out of my seat when the guy assigned to my car sprinted toward me with some sort of spray bottle.  I got out of the way and walked across the driveway to some benches and watched him work like a fiend on the inside of my car. 

When he finished the inside, he moved on to the hubcaps.  I have hubcaps like the one in the picture above.  In the seven years I've owned this car, I've never cleaned inside those little holes.  I watched amazed as the guy cleaned each little hole on each hubcap.  At each hole he would scrub, look at his towel and scrub again until every piece of gunk inside that hole had been vanquished.  I wanted to walk over to him and say, "Dude.  Seriously.  That is totally not necessary," but, I was afraid if I did, he might give me a Travis Bickle "You talkin' to me?" and beat me with the vacuum cleaner hose.  So, I let him scrub.

As I watched Travis Bickle clean out each little hole, I thought about the time my brother e-mailed me about his first experience with Biore strips.  At the time, he was telecommuting from home several days a week and enjoyed e-mailing me about his cushy life as I sat in my cruddy office.  On this particular morning, he was sitting at his computer in his boxer shorts and a t-shirt with a Biore strip, which he had found in his wife's side of the medicine cabinet, resting across the bridge of his nose. 

Later, when he pulled the Biore strip off his nose, he e-mailed me that he was sure that some of the gunk on the strip was from a football game he played in 1978.  I'm sure that some of the dirt that guy got out of my hubcap holes was from a beach trip I took in 2005.

When my car was finally ready, I said goodbye to my fellow carwash waiting people, tipped the detail dude and drove away flicking dirt into my little hubcap holes.  See you next month, Mr. Bickle. 

Why?

Dear Universe:  Why can't I get a red light when I need to open the sauce for my Chicken McNuggets, but if I'm in a hurry I get every red light between me and where I'm going...especially if I'm in a hurry?  Why?!  I need my sauce!  Sincerely, Laurie's Brain

This and That

***

It's finally 65 degrees outside.  The heater has quit running constantly so I can breathe again through my gratefully lubricated sinuses and my joints have begun to unthaw.  Oh, happy day.

***

My friend posted pictures this week of her twin toddlers in their pajamas playing games and eating lunch and watching television.  She titled the photo album "Pajama Day."  Genius!  On days when I have nowhere to be, I always promise myself that I'll be out of my pajamas by noon.  Eventually, that becomes, "Maybe, I'll take a shower before I go to bed."  From this day forward, I shall title such days "Pajama Day."  Then, when I'm still in my pajamas at 6:00 p.m., I can proudly announce, "Mission accomplished!"

***

Every month, my Thomas Jefferson Port Arthur Class of '74 meet for lunch.  Sometimes we have four or five people and sometimes...on magical days...when people have cabin fever from being cooped up for days due to cold, icy weather...we have forty attendees.  See above.  We also had a contingency in Dallas who we conferenced with via Skype.  Pretty cool for a bunch of old people.

We're not as young as we used to be, but we're younger than we'll be ten years from now.  My message to all my classmates is that ten or fifteen years from now, we're going to look back at these pictures and rave about how "young" we looked.  So, my loves, lets celebrate our youth!  Such as it is.

***

My Sentiments Exactly

*Lewis Black..."Fuck it's cold!"

Stairway to Heaven...or is it?

At this time last year, I was taking safety courses in anticipation of my misguided attempt to work for a contractor inside a refinery.  Even though I was only going to be working inside a condemned trailer doing data entry, I still had to be safety certified.  The classes and testing lasted longer than my entire refinery working experience. 

Part of the safety orientation involved heights.  It didn't matter that I was never going to be higher than my 5 foot 4 inch height.  I still had to take the class and the test if I was going to be working inside the plant. 

I do not like heights.  That's putting it mildly.  I hate heights.  Worse than my fear of heights is my fear of falling off of heights.

I can promise you with every fiber of my being that I will never, never, never do this...

Starvin Marvin's Bar & Grill

A group of us went to Starvin Marvin's when they first opened.  At that time, they had a limited menu and marginal service.  I've gone back a couple of times since that first visit, but it was just for drinks and appetizers on the patio.  I finally went again for dinner and everything was wonderful.

They have a beautiful outdoor area and live music Wednesday through Saturday with no cover charge.  I highly recommend the crawfish nachos.

Since the website doesn't have a copy of the menu, I'm posting it here.

Starvin Marvin's Bar & Grill
2310 N. 11th Street
Beaumont, TX   77703
(409) 234-5002

Hours:
Monday: 11am - 12am
Tuesday: 11am - 12am
Wednesday: 11am - 12am
Thursday: 11am - 2am
Friday: 11am - 2am
Saturday: 11am - 2am
Sunday: 11am - 12am

Thomas Jefferson All Alumni (and friends) Monthly Gathering

Every month for the last couple of years alumni from my high school, Thomas Jefferson in Port Arthur, Texas, have gotten together the last Saturday (sometimes Friday) of the month to hang out and harass each other.  In the past, we've mostly had alumni from 1972-ish through 1980-ish, but everybody is invited and if you'd like to join us, don't be shy about bringing friends. 

This month, our gathering will be Saturday, January 29, 2011, at the Logon Cafe .  The Logon is at 3805 Calder Avenue (beside CVS and across the street from Kroger) in Beaumont.  The sound is great and they also have delicious food.  The band starts at 8:30 p.m., but some of us will be there by 7:30 p.m.

The band Saturday night will be Longneck Road, which is one of my favorite local bands.  Class of 1973 alumni Ron Arceneaux is in the band and I work with the talented founder/singer/musician/songwriter Dick LeMasters.

You can find more details on the TJ Alumni Happenings events tab on Facebook.

An Exercise Class I Would Pay For

Today as I was jamming in the car to Donna Summer, I had a revelation.  Zumba is alright, but the music is not relatable to me.  I would pay actual money to join an exercise class that played just disco and funk and perhaps a smidge of Rolling Stones. 

No stretching.  No warming up.  No cooling down.  No standing in rows.  No instructor shouting encouragement and requiring me to do specific unattainable exercise moves.  It would just be a big room with flashing lights, a disco ball and straight move-your-body music for an hour.  I would go every afternoon.

I realize I could do this in a bar, but I couldn't do it from 5:30 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. and be sitting on my couch by 7:00 p.m.  Not to mention the fact that my gym clothes and tennis shoes are ever so much more comfortable than my bar hopping clothes and there would be no concerns for makeup mishaps or hair touch-ups.  Probably most importantly, the several beers I would consume in a bar would offset my calorie burning mission.

I also realize I could do this alone for free in my own home, but isn't dancing like a maniac so much more fun when you do it with other people? 

Movies I Can't Pass Up When Channel Surfing

I just saw a list of movies that Mike Rowe Can't Channel Surf By.  Below is my list.  This is not a list of my favorite movies.  That's a different list.  Right now, I'm watching "Stripes."  It's not listed below, but it's a good one.  "That's the fact, Jack!"

In no particular order and with the certainty that I'm leaving something off...

Jaws
Close Encounters of the Third Kind
Annie Hall
It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World
Any 1950s era scifi or horror movie
Tremors
So, I Married an Axe Murderer
Ghostbusters
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (the one with Donald Sutherland)
When Harry Met Sally
Clue
The 'Burbs
The Money Pit
Midnight Run
Dr. Strangelove
Funny Farm
What About Bob?
Barefoot in the Park
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
Vacation
Caddyshack
Support Your Local Sheriff
Honeymoon in Vegas
Stakeout
A Summer Place
Where the Boys Are
Valley Girl
A Star is Born (the one with Kris Kristofferson)
Outrageous Fortune
Down and Out in Beverly Hills

Penis Enhancement Anyone?

I was cleaning out my junk e-mail earlier and saw one with a subject line for "penis enhancement." I deleted it and moved on to the next e-mail.  As I was deleting the next e-mail, it occurred to me how nonchalantly I had deleted the "penis enhancement" e-mail. 

There was a day when stumbling across pictures of gynecological views of lady parts while doing an innocent search for bing cherries or seeing the word penis in my e-mail in-box would have possibly shocked me or at least made me hesitate.  Not anymore.

I Google through the images of penises and va-jay-jays without thought or hesitation until I find what I'm looking for.  I delete e-mails with subject lines that would send your grandmother screaming from the room without a hint of shock or embarrassment.

My apologies to all of you who happened upon this blog post while actually searching for penile enhancement tools or gynecological views of lady parts.  Keep searching.  Trust me, they're out there.