OK, if my dogs had opposable thumbs & knew how to knit? Our daily journals for today would be identical:
8:45 a.m., woke up. Puttered around and made coffee (ok, the dogs don’t drink coffee. Tap water is their beverage of choice.) Watched TV. Knit. Ate leftovers (just me. dogs got chew sticks.) Got on the Computer (Polly’s working on learning Adobe Photoshop because she thinks the pictures I take of her could be enhanced a bit more.) Knit. Took nap. Long nap. Awesome nap. Best nap ever. Woke up. Ate more food (everybody did). Watched more tv. More Knitting. Back on computer (Suzy is interested in researching bigger-screen tv’s, because her pillow is in front of our main tv, and she knows we could do better.), and tonight’s agenda looks familiar to the day’s: more computer, getting caught up on TV taped stuff, KNITTING! and noshing. Except the dogs will get their ginormous bones when we go back downstairs, and me? I don’t like to chew on those so much. And then another night of sleeping, and I can say after the week I’ve just had? I love my life as a dog.
Day: January 29, 2005
I think that one of the things that helped my husband & I forge a bond early on was not only our silly senses of humor, but the fact that EVERYTHING’S A SONG. I didn’t ever really think other people did this, until I met him. And boy, howdy, he does it, too. We sing. We make references to songs all the time. We make up our own words to songs, suitable to the situation at hand. Weird Al Yankovic would love to be a fly on the wall to just get some inspiration. Sometimes the references or songs are bad. That’s when the other person goes, “Streeeeeeeetch……” and then the fallible singer usually tries to justify why it’s not a stretch and, in fact, worthy of a multi-million-dollar record deal.
So today, I give you the original source of my husband’s nickname. J.Wo. His name is James, not Jim, Jimmie, Junior, J.R., Jamesie, JayDub, or JammaJam (though I kinda like that one, having just now made it up) . His last name starts with the letters “Wo”. We were living at Widow Creek (ok, it’s Willow Creek, but it’s basically God’s Waiting Room, disguised as an apartment complex) and Jennifer Lopez had dropped her album “This is Me….Then” and you know you heard that damned Jenny From The Block song alllllllll the time back then. All over tv with the video, featuring Ben Affleck, who is still barely redeemable at this point, and the whole “I’m jus’ like you, only I got 8 gajillion dollars now, so don’ be a hatah even though I can dance in shoes you can’t even walk in” schtick. Well, I’m a hatah. Yes, it’s an earworm, and it’s catchy, but J.Lo just ain’t mah thang. But I dubbed hubby J.Wo, and it stuck. And he’s mah thang, to the moon and back. I give you the chorus I re-wrote, back before we got married, and I still sing it once in a while, just to make him laugh. And yes. I’m unabashedly ripping off “Jenny From The Block”:
Don’t be fooled by the ducks that he shot
He’s still, He’s still
J.Wo on the dock
Used to live in Clinton,
Now he’s not
No matter where he goes he knows that I love him
(shouted: SO SO MUCH)