The wine-o and I know...

Today was an especially challenging work day.

I needed to pick up a few things at my neighborhood grocery store as I made my way home and decided some sort of alcoholic beverage should top the list.

Upon entering the store I made a bee-line for the wine aisle.

Desperate for wine, any wine...so much to choose from but could not make a decision which delicious bottle to buy. OK, I will admit it, I just wanted to buy (and drink) it all.

An elderly woman was looking at the wine but she clearly did not have the sense of urgency I had as I stood there wishing I had carried my corkscrew with me...

Other people were shopping the wine aisle but clearly, I was in "the zone."

She stopped me and asked if I would help her. I wasn't sure what she needed help with but I am a sucker for little old ladies and little old men so OF COURSE I would help her!

A friend (presumably another little old lady) sent her to the store for some "white wine" and she wasn't sure what to buy. Her friend was having some "chest pain" and someone told her wine would cure it.

Wine cures everything! These are my type of old ladies! That's advice I would give someone!

She wanted to know the difference between the Pinot Grigio and the Moscato bottles she had in each hand. This woman did not realize she had hit the jackpot! Since I've personally had both types of this particular brand I was a total wine expert! And bonus, the little bottles were 10 for $10! She wanted to buy the little bottle...though personally, if it were me, I would hope my friend would buy the jumbo size...so I did direct her to the larger bottles but she was happy with her small bottle choice and went on her merry way, thanking me for my help.

Who knew my love of drinking (wine) would help me help an old lady?

Goin' rogue in GR

The national media descended upon Grand Rapids today as Sarah Palin kicked off her book tour.

Love her or hate her, Palin is "going rogue," visiting all the "right" smaller cities and towns (pun intended) so it is most appropriate Michigan's hotbed of conservatism is her first stop.

Ah, Sarah Palin. I can't help but think "Tina Fey" when I see her!

I toyed with the idea of "going rogue." I love politics and enjoy meeting political figures, regardless of their politics. So when the radio kicked on this morning and I heard my favorite morning show (and fellow Central Michigan University alums) had sent Producer Joe to the bookstore to "cheerlead" for Sarah Palin I knew I had to be there (this is a MUST listen by the way!).

Producer Joe quickly won the crowd over with his megaphone and zest. He started out by declaring his love for Sarah Palin and America then cheering "When I say 'Levi Johnston' you say 'douche bag.'"

In fact, people in line near me actually believed he was legit, despite the fact he yelled, "When I say 'teenage'" you say 'pregnancy'" and tricked the crowd with his cheer "When I say 'pro' you say 'choice.'" They actually played along.Then they realized their faux pas. And boo'ed. To which he responded "Suckers!"

Shortly thereafter the sun started rising and mall security escorted Producer Joe off the premises.  It was then that I truly realized what was happening. Producer Joe (who introduced himself as "Joe Six Pack" - of course) won over the crowd despite the fact no one really knew who he was...hmmm...that sounds familiar.

And daylight shed light on the masses around me. And it wasn't pretty.

I haven't seen that much flannel in one place since I saw Pearl Jam in concert. In 1994. When grunge was TRENDY.

And the cammo...don't even get me started.

People were dirty. I don't mean rolled out of bed dirty I mean, dirty-clothes-with-holes-and greasy-smelly-hair-teeth-as-yellow-as-butter dirty. I hope Sarah Palin brought some Lysol along with her hand sanitizer!  I always wonder why poor people vote conservative but I digress...

At one point I was directly across from the "stereotypical" conservatives. It did ease my mind to see them there. This was more of what I expected. They all looked like Alex P. Keaton and were talking about how "liberals" send "plants" to events like this and were trying to figure out who the "liberal plants" were. Suddenly, I started to squirm. As they cast their eyes in my direction I suddenly felt like I had forgotten to take my Hillary in 2008 2012 button off my coat. I quickly averted my eyes. "Maybe if I don't move they won't notice me," I thought. It seemed to work. Whew.

Soon another "Producer Joe" type came on the scene but it was not a joke.

This woman was priceless. Check her out...that's her in the red sweatshirt and running pants.

She declared she was a "temporary reporter" for a local AM station, despite the fact she had no microphone, no credentials, no pen and no paper. Hmmm. But what happened? People flocked to her! The old ladies next to me in line were enthralled (just as they were with Producer Joe). This woman was not a reporter! Even an intern would have had a pen and paper. And yet, this crowd...for some strange reason...believed her and played along....without knowing much about her. Hmmmm.

Then some guy who had already made it through the line and had his wristband (oh yeah, because after you stood in line for hours you would have to come back and do it all over again to meet Palin and get your book signed) yelled at my section of the line, "Are you waiting for your Obama money? You're in the Obama money line!"

Suddenly we were approached by a woman looking like she walked out of 1976 (huge glasses, feathered hair and all) peddling Palin in 2012 pins. For real? I suppose it's capitalism at it's finest.

The entire time this little ditty kept going through my head..."I built me a bridge it ain't goin' nowhere...oooh"

Finally I realized I did not belong. I felt like the Alex P. Keatons were giving me the stink eye for not laughing at the "Obama money" joke (because it was sooo funny? because half the people there looked like they are receiving "Obama money?") and I realized I sure as hell had no intention to come back and stand in line again later tonight with these people.

So I left. I was disoriented and cold. And then it hit me...I totally got what I came for. Cable news networks are no longer fair and balanced. Fox News would have reported there were 10,000 people there while TJ on CNN weekend mornings would have declared his undying love for Obama, said no one was there and people were protesting Sarah Palin. I went and saw it first hand. We often hide behind televisions and computer screens rather than getting up and getting involved.

Yes, I am being judgmental (teeth the shade of butter? Low blow, even for me). I told you people I am a total bitch and I'm ok with it. But, after standing in the cold for two hours I feel like I have some credibility to share my experiences.

Sarah Palin...love her, hate her. Regardless, I give her credit for putting herself out there and for the example she sets as a woman who has the family and the career. I just really hope for that little baby's sake (what's his name? Trigg? Track? Trek? Tic? Tac? I can't remember) she packed the Lysol and Purell because there was a whole lotta nasty out there in the flock crowd.

Don't tase me, bro!

In the tony neighborhood just east of here (appropriately named East Grand Rapids), police used a taser to subdue a man after they were called to his home. The problem is they tased him four times. Four times. And he died.

I know, I know...you are sitting there wondering why I am writing about this.

Well, here's why. This all took place across the street of the new home of my good friend. We'll call her "Wiggy."

"Wiggy" recently relocated to East Grand Rapids because she couldn't handle her Bible-thumphing, asparagus-pushing, home-schooling, home-intruding crazy neighbors/landlords. The last straw was when they placed a cross adorned in lights on the lawn of the duplex. That thing burned like the sun. On the upside I have to say it made her home easy to spot...from the road or even from an airplane flying overhead.

This story (of the tasing not the cross) prompted someone to ask my friend if she brings "crazy" with her wherever she goes. I have known "Wiggy" for five years now and must say she does.

It's like a dark cloud that follows her. She doesn't ask for it but it is just there.

Last night "Wiggy" was "sleeping" (if that's what you do after consuming a bottle of wine, just saying) when she saw strange lights coming in her home. She looked out the window, spotted the police and said to herself (this is a direct quote), "I am thinking to myself 'what have I did?'"

She went outside, and the police quickly shoo'ed her back in.

"Wiggy" then proceeded to take photos of the crime scene while peeking through the blinds and out the window with her BlackBerry. Did I mention that they were taking photos of her front yard? So while the tasing may have taken place across the street, for some reason her lawn is a crime scene. Welcome to the freaking neighborhood!

Unfortunately, the photos were all a dark blur. I would post one but frankly, she'd kill me if she knew I was blogging about her (so don't say anything, ok? Thanks!) so I couldn't come up with a great reason for her to share her photos with me (and she never uses Facebook so we'll never see said photos again).

I could say I am surprised, but frankly, I am not. Wherever my friend "Wiggy" goes, crazy follows.

Disclaimer: If there is any question as to who "Wiggy" is I will give you a clue. This individual, "Wiggy," may or may not have been involved with a "run in" with Beyonce somewhere in New York City....say Tribeca....Hudson St. in fact....of which I too may or may not have been involved. See June 2009 for further details.

Parents say the darndest things

Lately I've been spending a lot of time on the phone with my parents. Since my dad was diagnosed with cancer in late July I've compensated for living across the state by calling...constantly.

Now that my mom and dad are my phone buddies I realize they say the funniest things. You can only talk about blood counts and chemo so much!

My mom believes the root of all evil in the world is text messaging. Actually, text messaging while driving. She'll tell me the story about someone who cut her off in traffic ("He was probably texting.")....someone who was driving too slow ("I  know she was texting.")....driving too fast ("You know he was texting.")....a bad accident on the 5 p.m. news ("The reporter didn't say it  but I am sure the driver was texting.") etc. I don't know when she made the decision that texting while driving is the cause of all accidents and traffic jams! It may be that she recently learned the word "texting" and wants to use it in daily vocabulary as not to forget it? Who knows!

My dad, on the other hand, likes to tell me stories about the dog, the Detroit Tigers and cars. Somehow the subject of my car came up. Since I am "broke" I drive a 2004 Sebring with 107,890 miles and counting. I was checking the mail while talking to him and got really excited about the latest hand-written note I received from the salesgirl at the Troy, Mich. Kate Spade store.

He quipped, "You drive a car with 100,000 miles on it but you receive personal notes from salesgirls who sell $300 purses?!?"

Hello, dad! Cars are great and all but let's be real - more people see my handbags than my car so I need to carry good ones. Plus, if Kate Spade had low interest financing I would totally own the entire winter line. Plus stemware....and shoes...and I love the new jewelry too. Since I rely on American Express to finance said purchases I have to be conservative in my shopping. After all, failure to regulate my "Kate compulsion" is what landed me in credit card debt to begin with!

ArtPrize...the coolest thing to hit GR

ArtPrize is officially up and running here in GR and it is fabulous!

According to the official web site:

At ArtPrize, any artist—from established to emerging—has the chance to show work. Any visitor can vote. The vote will determine who wins the largest art prize in the world. We also took the unusual step to allow people in the city to open a venue and choose the artists to show in their space. There is not one official curator or jury for the competition

The city is full of people at all days and hours, resturants are running out of food...for a time of economic hardship this event is doing wonders for our little city!

I don't have a critical eye when it comes to art. I am a fan of most of the "big cool stuff" that has popped up all over town. Regardless of which pieces win, this event has been the best thing to happen to GR since Amway!

Oh won't you be my neighbor?

Remember good 'ole Mister Rogers? I used to watch him every day on PBS as a child. I just loved him and wished he were my neighbor.

As a single thirtysomething adult living in the city, one would think meeting a nice, normal neighbor would be easier than it is. I am not looking for a Mister Rogers-type neighbor, I mean, I don't think he would enjoy hanging out with me on the deck at Republic during sushi happy hour or shopping trips to Saugatuck, but maybe someone a little like myself. I chose my current neighborhood for its close proximity to downtown GR and because I liked my house - I really wasn't too concerned about a perspective BFF living on the block.

My neighborhood is interesting and my neighbors are nice enough. There is the sort of crabby older couple on one side of me who like my dog more than they like me. On the other side is the couple with the 13 year old  (who used to like me but now think my dog Gracie killed their cat - will save that story for later).

Does this look like the face of a killer?

Across the street is a really nice couple in my age range - two dogs, no kids but they are a little too, well, NASCAR for me (no offense to anyone who likes NASCAR - I know I am a bitch, what can I say?). So, when a couple my age with no kids, Illinois plates and an Obama sticker moved in two doors down from the NASCAR neighbors I was pretty pumped! I felt like a kid again - as though a new family with a child around my age had moved to the block and it was a chance to make a new friend. That never worked out when I was a kid living in my parents' subdivision so I don't know WHY I thought it would work out for grown-up Jen.

Maybe the possibilities intrigued me. I was thinking as a young, hip couple, they may know/meet/work with a young single guy or two they could throw my way. I suddenly had visions of BBQs at our respective houses, me meeting one of their guy friends, dating him and suddenly doing all kinds of fun couple like things. Single ladies, you know what I am saying, the one thing more difficult than meeting a friend in the city is meeting a "dateable" man!

I didn't want to run over there like a freak so a week or so passed before I made my move. I was watering the flowers when the opportunity presented itself - there goes the new neighbor lady walking her dog! As I smooth my hair in anticipation of meeting my new BFF, she sees me on the porch and makes a beeline across the street so she doesn't have to walk in front of my house. Now, Gracie is in the window going berserk at the sight of the dog so I initially delude myself into believing it was a "mercy crossing" - a way to keep her dog away from Gracie. OK, OK, a possibility. So I finish watering the flowers, go inside and put on some lip gloss (because one should never try to make new friends without it) and head across the street to go knock on their door and introduce myself. I know they are home because she just returned from walking the dog and he was just out in the yard.

I walk across the street, head held high, ready to meet my new friends. I walk up the steps and see the front door is open, the screen door letting the cool breeze of the day in. I nervously ring the door bell. The little black dog comes to the door and wags his tail at me. I am thinking it's a good sign. Then I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

The little dog at one point turns and wags its tail at what I presume is one of both of his owners. After what feels like an eternity it is clear that, despite the fact that ALL SIGNS point to them being home, they just aren't going to come to the door. I put on my best sorority girl smile, turn around and head home. It feels like a one mile journey across the street. I put myself out there to meet my new neighbors, welcome them to the neighborhood and they completely reject me. They did not know I had already envisioned we would be BFFs! Unless they are mind readers...hmmm.....

So tonight I stepped out onto my porch and they were sitting on their porch. As soon as I sat down in my white Adirondack chair they high-tailed it in the house, never to be seen again. Clearly they think I am stalking them now. Or maybe they are just completely anti-social. Whatever the case I am a little sad that I will not have any new friends in my 'hood any time soon.

All the single ladies

A friend, who shall remain nameless, is a fan of, likes, loves, worships Beyonce. Eh, what the heck. She needs a name. We'll call her "Wiggy."

"Wiggy" just returned from New York City. She went with me and our friend Rachael. "Wiggy" had never been on an airplane before so I thought airport security would be the most interesting part of the trip but no. No, no. No, no, no.

Long story short. "Wiggy" discovered Beyonce's NYC apartment address. I may or may not have enabled this...or actually Googled this.

"Wiggy" insisted we "stop by" the building while in the city.

We did.

The chances Beyonce would be home while we were there? Or that she actually lived there? A million to one - easy. We should have purchased lottery tickets.

The incident involved an Escalade, a bodyguard and Beyonce herself. It was something.

For the record, her bodyguard is scary. He's clearly very good at his job!

I am just thankful we weren't arrested. Though I wouldn't be surprised if poor Beyonce has restraining orders out for us...