Define "Friend" **** Updated with REAL pic of Claire

I had been working out for about a year when Claire's husband started working out at the gym. Now folks, this is a tiny gym. About 10 people work out there. We all know each other. Most of these athletes are elite class. Ok, everyone but me. Shortly after her husband started showing results, she joined us.

Claire (from yesterday's post) was already in great shape compared to the average woman. But in the last year and a half, she has seriously put the work in to have a fabulous body. She went on Weight Watchers to learn how to eat a balanced diet. She's cut her carbs. She works out every day. Yoga, pilates, cardio, weights. She is disciplined beyond what my mind can comprehend.

Claire does ask me other advice. Like, what are my thoughts on a bikini made of candy? Was it clever enough to get noticed at a Playboy shoot? Her straps were twizzlers and she made the entire bikini out of candies. I told her that I'd just dip my boobs in honey and then in sprinkles. But hey, I'm a simple girl.

Claire is pretty, in great shape...and get this... she's sweet. She tells me when she sees that I've lost weight in a certain area. She gives me tips that have helped her lose weight. And she remembers my birthday.

Last October, she was all smiles when I walked into the gym. "Happy Birthday!" I didn't even know she knew when it was. I certainly didn't know hers. As I was leaving, totally wiped out from the workout, she stood arms outstretched, a cake box in hand.

Filled with four small cakes. Bigger than petit fours. Smaller than a real cake. Square. Perfetly decorated. One Chocolate. One Red Velvet. One Strawberry. One White.

Claire didn't know what flavor was my favorite, so she bought me four. All for me. To take home. Alone.

So, are we friends?

She's A Size FOUR

Is a fitness model.

Works out with the same trainer that I do.

Has a six pack.

Yesterday, after an hour and a half in the gym, I'm mustering up the last ounce of energy I have left to do my ab work. Knowing that my abs will never be referred to in beer terms.

Claire walks up.

Her: "I want to ask your opinion about what's going on with my Playboy shoot."

Me: "Sure. What's up?"

Her: "Well, they've moved me from the Hot Housewives in the August issue to the Fresh Faces (as if) in the October issue. Why do YOU think they would do that?"

I blew some smoke up her ass about how they probably have too many Hot Housewives and not enough Fresh Faces.

How does the size 4, ripped chick have so little self esteem that she thinks she's suddenly not hot because PLAYBOY decided to put her in a different issue!?

I know the answer. It's her husband that keeps telling everyone (in her presence) that he's not "into blondes." There's no telling how he berates her when they are alone.

It's just so sad to see a Playboy Bunny question her own hotness.

The Letdown

Yesterday had been planned all week. We were going to spend all day on the lake. No more working on the house. No more cleaning. No more staging. No more yard work.

We get all suited up. Picnic in hand. Towels at the ready.

Off we go.

Except the boat seems sluggish. The blower has stopped working. The mph isn't working either.

We head back to the dock as soon as we get past the no wake zone.

My girl takes the cover off of the motor and it's full of water. FULL OF WATER. All around the motor. Everywhere. Pumping begins.

So much for the day with no stress or work.

We get it pumped out...but water keeps coming in. There's a leak around the motor. Drizzling in.

Today, she'll be trying to find someone to help her get it repaired. We know no one in Nashville that works on boats...so if you know someone...holler!

Here's hoping it isn't at the bottom of the lake this mornin'!

***UPDATE***
My favorite neighbor, the one that I gave my extra washing machine to when my girl moved in, just came through for us. He's going to get a friend's trailer, swap his boat for ours at the dock, pull ours out and fix it for us. I big, red, puffy heart him!

Sometimes, the Universe pays you back for doing good. I think Dana should keep the money! It's payback for all of that extra change she leaves at the vending machines.

You Asked For It!

Here. I'm joining the crowd. It's my first vlog.

Yes, I'm from the South. Secret's out with deep drawl. And it's my first time. Go easy on me. HOW do you get these little cameras to stay steady? I bought my girl a Flip Mino for her birthday and it's great...but I'll be damned if I can keep it from looking like you're sitting on my tits as we walk through the yard.

I figure if I share the crappiest video ever...the next one will be so head and shoulders above this one that you'll shower me with praise. So do that, ok?

They've accepted our offer. Now we just have to sell the house we're in. Make you a great deal!

Here's the cabin....



The only good thing about the video? It's short!

So...whaddya think?

P.S. Keep prayin', thinking happy house thoughts, burning sage and sticking pins in potential buyer dolls for me!

We Have Completely Lost Our Minds

For the past several months, my girl and I have had plans to build a house near my parent's house. It's a couple of miles away until they put the new road through. Then it'll be about a mile. Easy walking distance to Sunday dinner and just to stop by and say hi.

That is until last Sunday. We were organizing the house to put on the market. Out of the blue, my girl said, "Let's call Ron and have him show us that log cabin that we pass every time we drive by our lot."

Ohforfuckssake! We're BUILDING A HOUSE! We've talked to Ron until we're blue in the face about this house we both want, making the shower a fully tiled walk-in type, picked a floor plan, this option, that option.

But, she's been dying to look at this log cabin. She's always wanted a log house. So I said we'd look at it, knowing that I would be saying, "It's cute, my love...but, we're building a house, remember?"

*I* have not. Dirty, they are. Dusty. Old. Dank. WOODY. That means bugs. And well, other creepy, crawly shit.

We called Ron and he had his Girl Friday meet us there and open it up for us. She left. We stayed. For two and a half hours. Called my parents. They came. We all walked around the huge almost an acre lot with a real live barn in the back!

Then it happened. The country girl in me came out as I was traipsing about the dirt floor in the barn with a metal roof that's held up by cedar tree posts. I fell in love with a log cabin.

It felt like the years I spent in the country with my aunt, uncle, cousins galore and grandparents by the dairy farm. It felt like wanting to raise something. Tomatoes or chickens or something. It felt like a place to have the entire family over for dinner on the grounds where everyone brings a covered dish.

It felt like home.

Wish us luck as we make an offer on it today. Say a prayer. Think a happy thought.

As much as I never wanted a log home, it's just exactly what we need.

Guess Who?

Yeah, I know her face is washed out...but it's Pat Benatar!!!! I gave my girl tickets for her birthday to her concert at the Wildhorse on Tuesday night. A concert on a school night? Crazy, I know.

We arrived at 6pm and walked up to a line that was several hundred people long. As we were standing in front of McFadden's Pub, one of their waiters came out trying to hustle folks inside.

Him: Why wait in line when we have cold beer and A/C?
Crowd: Silence as they're obviously entranced by Pat Benatar's ultimate appearance. She's supposed to go on at 7pm according to the folks at the Wildhorse. Yeah right.

Him: Cold Beer for much cheaper than Wildhorse and you can eat dinner while everyone else is waiting in line!
Crowd: Crickets

Me to my girl: Aw, come on...let's go in! Give the guy a break! It might be fun!
Her: No. I'm not missing Pat.
Me: We're not gonna miss her. She won't be on for a long, long time!
Her: No....shaking her head.

We start chatting with the two girls in front of us. I have an idea.

Me: Hey...Mr. McFadden's guy...Come 'ere a minute.
Guy: Yeah?
Me: What will you give us if all four of us come in for dinner? Make us an offer.
Guy: How about a round of shots?
Us: Hell yeah!

Crowd: Hey, ya'll were too easy! You should've held out!
Us: Laughing as we walk inside to drink cold beer and have a great time as everyone else waits in line just to get into the Wildhorse. Dorks.

We got a free round of Strawberry Cheesecake shots with the manager and we'll always be the two lesbians in the pic with the married mothers at McFaddens that got everybody free drinks!

I loved stepping out of the crowd. Losing my place to go do something unplanned.

When was the last time you broke out of the crowd?

The Phone Rang at 9:31pm

I checked the caller ID. It was David.

Wait, let me back up.

For the last two days, I've been questioning my decision. What if Milo doesn't get along with my dogs? What if Trace hates him? What if he marks my house or causes Isaac to?

Why did I make a decision to keep a dog I don't know that belongs to people that I don't know? Why don't I think things through before I jump headfirst into things?

I'm trying to get my house ready to sell and now I've gotten myself into keeping Milo until the 20th. For eight days. I dog that I don't know. What if he chews? Digs the yard up?

You all know how I am with what ifs.

I answer the phone and it's David. He called to tell me that Milo had gotten sick after we left his front yard on Wednesday night. Milo threw up that night. But David though that he'd be okay. Milo had eaten a rock and David thought it might be that rock upsetting his stomach. Milo's a rock eater. Hey, we all have our issues.

Today, Milo was still sick. He could barely breathe. He seemed to be in pain. They had to lift him into the car to take him to the vet this afternoon.

After giving Milo the once over, the vet ran an ultrasound. He found a mass beside Milo's liver. Cancer in a rottweiler that's already eleven years old is not good. And so, David and Gary had to make the hardest decision. They had to put Milo down.

My vision tunneled as I listened to David say how they knew his lifespan was only around nine years and what a wonderful dog he had been. I thought that I would pass out.

I pulled myself back from the blackness to listen to a man that needed to tell me that this was the last thing that he wanted to do. Put his friend out of his pain. When there was such little hope. On the brink of their vacation.

He just kept saying how grateful he was that I was willing to keep Milo. And yet, tonight, I'm the one that is grateful.

Just When You Think You Have A Lot On Your Plate...

The Universe comes to call and shows you just how fortunate you are.

I've been stressed with being stalked by my Ex-The Redneck as she moves just down the road from me, packing up my house, making plans to build a house, and all the other daily crap that just happens.

To answer the question that's on your mind from yesterday, yes we made up. She called me before lunch and I immediately said that I was sorry that I was a grit thrower before even saying hello. She forgave me. Easy.

Yesterday afternoon, I started dinner and heard the dogs going nuts outside.

Me: Looking outside, "That'll be enough."

Isaac and Abbi: "OHMAHGAWDOHMYGAWDOHMYGAWD Somebody's here!"

Me: Looking outside again, "Enough already."

Then, Trace starts barking. She means business.

Me: Looking out the backdoor, yet again, "Oh, hi."

A middle aged man around 55 is standing by my back gate with his old greying Rottweiler that I see him walking with daily. I've seen them plenty, but we've never spoken.

I can't hear him over the cacophany of dogs, so I send them all in except for Trace. She knows how to behave.

Him: I'm, um well, I'm Gary.

Me, extending my hand: Nice to meet you, Gary, I'm Julie. What's your dog's name?

Gary, holding my hand in both of his: Um, well...(he squats down next to his dog)...his name is um, his name is Milo.

Me, reaching across the gate: Hi Milo! Aren't you a pretty boy!

Gary: I've seen you, well... I've seen you around here...and well, I want to go out of town with my son.

Me: Oh, so you're needing a pet sitter?

Gary, pointing to his head: Um, well I have a problem. I can't remember what it is.

Me: With your brain? You have a brain problem?

Gary: Yeah, well um, I can't remember very well. He holds his hand out again and introduces himself again and I do the same.

Me: Well, we can work around that. I'll get together a list of pet sitters and bring them to you after dinner.

Gary: I'll make sure the tv is down so that I can hear you knock. By the way, My name is Gary.

We shake hands again.

Me: Ok, we'll see you in about an hour. I promise, I'll come up there.

As he walks away Gary says, "Oh I remember, it's Alzheimer's."

Me: Are you on medication? I heard that there are some new ones out that are pretty good.
Gary just shakes his head.

I finish up dinner, feed my woman and tell her what's just happened. We're both tired and a tad grumpy, but I put together a list and tie up my shoes.

As we walk up the hill, I see him sitting outside in an old lawnchair and Milo is lying beside him. We wave at each other and we walk up into his yard. I show him the list with my name at the top so that he can remember my name.

Me: When do you leave for your vacation?

Gary looks down and unfolds an envelope that he's holding with notes on it, "July 12th."

I'm starting to realize that there's no way that he can navigate calling these people and setting up someone to keep Milo.

Me: "Would you like for me to call these folks to find someone for you? Oh, I have an idea. Why don't we just keep Milo for you? Then you can go on vacation and not worry about him."

Gary's face beams.

Gary: How much will you charge me?

Me: Nothing, Gary. Sometimes you just do what's right. I'm sure he won't be any trouble.

The front door opens and his son walks out. I had the impression that he lived alone and his son was coming to get him for the vacation. David is a lanky 25 year old, clean cut and friendly.

We introduce ourselves and he fills me in on the things that Gary's left out. They have been along most of the coastlines. From Oregon down to San Francisco. From Savannah down to Daytona Beach. And this year, they want to go to New Orleans and skirt the coast to Panama City Beach. This may be the last year that they can do this together.

My heart crashed into a thousand pieces.

Then Gary said, "I want to give you a hug."

And we hugged. It's a hug I'll never forget, but I bet he already has.

Lesson for Today: Go With The Flo

This morning, I threw my grits. You know how that little bitty thing that she does finally just tips the scale and you lose your shit? Well, I lost mine a little bit. I was making my "Big Breakfast Diet" breakfast of two eggs and grits with chocolate mousse yogurt.

I had my eggs in the pan with some Pam cooking away. I poured my packet of grits (whole grain, folks!) into the bowl, added water and she said it. It doesn't matter what it was. You all know what I mean. It wasn't the thing she said. Rather it was that she said anything at all at that moment.

A million things were running through my head. From, "What the hell am I going to cook for dinner?" to "I need to talk to the agent about the house that we're going to build about the options that have already been discussed once, but I want to go over them again" to "Gah, I feel so damn fat!" to the hundred 'n two things I have to get done at work today.

And that's when she said it.

I grabbed the eggs and threw the pan and all into the sink. Then I threw the bowl of grits into the sink. Grits flew everywhere. I didn't look back.

My love came into the house and said, "What are you DOING?"

I said, "I'm leaving." I stormed out of the house.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for the grits that I keep finding in little nubs dried to my pants. I'm sorry that I didn't go back in and tell her what was going through my head.

But mostly, I'm sorry that I didn't hug her goodbye and kiss her. Because she truly is the love of my life and I don't wanna be a grit thrower.

Fluff, Cuff, Love

TYPE O

You scored 100 imagination, 83 confidence, 75 dominance, and 46 generosity!

You are a KINKY, CONFIDENT, DOMINANT lover who prefers to RECEIVE. This means that: You like relatively kinky sex, and you have the great imagination that will always keep your partner guessing and excited! There's no getting bored with you around, you could never settle for dull sex, you want something fun and new all the time. You aren't afraid to try out anything you hear about. You might just be an intelligent lover who needs to be mentally engaged, or perhaps you have some dirty dark secret kinky desires, but either way, you're never boring.

You are pretty confident in bed. This means that you know you can please your lover. Maybe you've read a lot of sex manuals, or have the experience from previous lovers, or just tend to be skilled at whatever you get your hands on, but you're good and you know it. You can really get results and know that you have pure talent, so you won't be hiding away shy, pretending to be all innocent.

Your partners love your naughty self assurance, you don't hesitate and this makes you a sensational lover. You tend to be dominant in bed, so you prefer to be the one giving the orders than taking them.

Maybe you like the power, or just like controlling the pace, perhaps your partner likes to be dominanted, or maybe you get a kick out of the whole master/slave relationship, it could be something as small as liking to be on top during sex and tie up your lover to tease them, or it could be as kinky as them having to ask your permission to do anything at all.

Either way, you are firm and you enjoy it! You would rather Receive than Give. This usually applies more to Oral sex than anything else, and other types of foreplay. This could be for a number of reasons. Maybe you are just very hooked on the sensation of orgasm, maybe you feel you deserve to be treated like a god/goddess, maybe you just aren't confident about your skills when it comes to returning the favour. Maybe you are lazy. Or maybe your partner loves to give and that suits you fine, so everyone is happy.

Either way, remember to be a giver sometimes too, as long as your partner likes it.

WE SUGGEST YOU TRY: Fluffy handcuffs, soft whips. You have the kinky factor that will mean you'll enjoy playing games in bed, and using these fluffy cuffs rather the metal sort of the just a silk scarf means you will be tied firmly, but comfortably. You can't get away, but you wont be in any pain. However, we know you'd rather do this to your lover than be tied up yourself, so feel free, or take turns! Enjoy some light flogging with a soft whip, just to see if you like being spanked, or use your hand. Nothing too heavy, but a little bit kinky.

Take The What's your sexual style? Test at HelloQuizzy

Stolen from Biscuit...because I'm lazy to think today after cleaning house all weekend!

What's your score?

Happy Birthday To YOU!

My blogger friend named Dana over at Amid Life's Crises has a birthday coming up or maybe it has already happened. I don't know when it is...just that she's a Cancer. I'm surrounded by Cancers. My girlfriend, my coach, my best friend. All Cancers.

I wanted to do a little something for her, so I perused her blog one day and found out a few things. I realized that I started reading her blog almost as soon as she started posting. I know that she likes vodka gimlets, but I don't know if she likes them as well as I do. And, I found out that she'd like to go to Greece, as do I. After seeing the pic on her blog, I searched high and low for a larger picture.

A couple of weeks ago, I started on her painting. Now, you really have to make an impression upon me to get one of my 10 paintings! I rarely paint and even more rarely do I do anything for anyone. Don't ask, they're like my children. But she's really done a lot for me and I owe her...big time.

I sketched the basics getting black chalk all over my hands.


I laid out my colors. Mostly blues, but that's too boring. I needed purples of all sorts, black, green, reds, yellows and lots of white.

Then I remembered that I was painting with intention.
I wanted to really have this painting know what it was about. I wanted there to be meaning for her as it's hanging on her little alcove wall. I wanted her to see something inside of it that no one else would know was there.

It's about knowing that someday your dreams will come true. Believing that good things will happen to you. You will be happy, content, loved, cherished, adored, and safe. Here's a close up of the very bottom. Where I made my intentions quite clear.


Here's where I am today. I have the basics down and the background is solid. I never have exact plans of when I will finish. I'm an artist. I paint when and what I want.
Just in case this day is close to her birthday, I wanted to wish her a Very Happy Birthday!

And Dana, may all your dreams come true!