Big Bad John.

Jimmy Dean died on Sunday, very randomly and also very suddenly according to his wife.  He and Donna have lived in Varina, the area where I grew up, for a long time, and they were the biggest local celebrities our little side of Richmond had ever seen.  It wouldn't be strange to see them out at (the now defunct) Ukrop's for groceries or other places around town.  While I was in school, they had a "Dean's List" program where students were given savings bonds for keeping the GPA high or raising it from one semester to the next.  They also helped out the school by buying new band uniforms, and he honored the top 30 seniors in a class by taking them on his yacht for a day (or, in my case, having them over for an afternoon party)and drawing a name from his cowboy hat to give one of us a car (sadly, I did not win).

I have many Jimmy Dean stories that I love to tell.  In fact, all of my Jimmy Dean stories are in my repertoire that I whip out at parties or other times when the mood strikes.  Each one is a little bit different (though they all end with a quippy punchline), but each of them is pretty hilarious.  There's a great one where, while visiting his house during the Top 30 Seniors Party, I won lots of quarters from his in-house slot machine, and he came up behind me, draped an arm on my shoulders, and said, "I hope you don't think I'm gonna let you take that home with you!" There's another fun one from my freshman year, when my brother's friend asked him during an assembly how much his belt buckle cost, and Jimmy called him a smartass in front of the entire student body, faculty, and visting parents.  There's my second favorite from when our Madrigal chorus sang as carollers for his holiday party, and he told our director (AND I quote) that she couldn't find her fanny if all 10 of her fingers were flashlights.

However, my favorite Jimmy Dean moment happened after I'd left high school, after I hadn't won the car, after I'd been gone from Varina for a while.  It was my cousin's 21st birthday, and she was working at the local CVS pharmacy.  I had decided that I was going to surprise her at work by ambushing her and singing Happy Birthday.  The pharmacy is located in the back of the store and my mole told me she was at the register, so I chose my inconspicuous aisle, leapt out from around a blind corner, and started belting it out.

Turns out, she was currently ringing up Mr. Jimmy Dean, clad in jeans and a Varina sweatshirt.

She was so, so embarrassed, judging by the horrified look on her face, and I probably should have been too.  I do admit, I got a little flustered by my celebrity audience, but I didn't miss a beat.  I kept singing, did a little birthday softshoe, and the line of people gave me nice smiles and applause.  Cousin told Jimmy that it was indeed her birthday, and that I (her cousin) just wanted to tease her.  Jimmy asked her how she was, and when she replied, he laughed heartily and quipped, "Oh honey, I've got underpants older than you!"

Happy birthday indeed.

That being said, he was a lovely man who did many wonderfully nice things for our fledgling community while being very genuine and respectful, and I know we're all a bit sadder now that he's gone.  Thank you, Sausage King.

Thank you, Popwatch.

I read this in Popwatch this morning (one of the EW.com blogs that I frequent), and it captured my favorite line from last night's Community while also suggesting something brilliante.

"Shirley can't believe Jeff is agnostic. 'You think religion is stupid?' she asked Jeff, who responded with this extended metaphor: 'To me, religion is like Paul Rudd. I see the appeal, and I would never take it away from anyone. But I would also never stand in line for it.' All right, let's start the campaign for Paul Rudd guest starring as a religion professor now."

I l-o-v-e the Rudd. I think he has the best career ever, with the perfect amount of indie cred and mass mainstream appeal. I mean, even my PARENTS love the Rudd. But still, that's an amazing comparison, and that would be amazing to see him on Community, one of my new favorite shows. It didn't make me laugh until I cried last night like Bones ("where's your chest hair?") or Sunny (the infamous poisoned relish-mayonnaise-shampoo convo), but still, solid.

On the knitting front, which I haven't actually talked about lately, I've been trying to do some small projects to pass out as Christmas gifts this year. I had the great idea of knitting a washcloth for my cousin who loves NC State. I had what I thought was enough red yarn in my stash. Turns out, washcloths take a CRAP-TON of yarn for their size. So instead I'm using this other, bulkier yarn to do it, and now it's like the NC State placemat. Eh, whatever, it'll do. Hopefully, I'll be able to complete a few more smaller projects (more washcloths, perhaps a hat and earwarmer or two), and everyone I know will appreciate them.

Reunion tomorrow. I'll try to update soon after with a play-by-play of its randomness.

What have you done today to make you feel proud?

I got up and went to work?

I've talked about this before, but I love The Biggest Loser. Personally, I think it's a good mix of drama, competition, and inspiration. Every season, I tell myself I'm not going to get sucked in, and every season, I'm back on the couch on Tuesday night. Jack has just given up, and he hangs out with me while it's on (he CLAIMS he doesn't watch it, but I know he does!). We even have a LAST CHANCE WORKOUT game in which we... count how many times they say Last Chance Workout. This will probably become a drinking game next season...

To me, though, TBL has been a good motivator. Last season, I would purposefully plop in front of the TV to watch it while eating junk food. I would think about what junk I would eat while these people worked themselves to almost death. Chips, ice cream, snacky snacks, anything. It seemed kind of funny.

And somehow I'm surprised that I've gained some weight in the past year...

This time around, I find that their stories are inspiring me to get off my lazy patoot and do something. With the mentality I have, I could be on the path to something terrible. I don't want to reach the rock bottom of life before I make a change for the better.

The other thing is, my grandfather was one healthy dude (pretty much right until the very end). His doctors were always amazed at the way his body reacted to medicines, how someone at his age could beat a fairly aggressive cancer for so long. His main doctor would always push for him, telling specialists to treat him as though he were a much younger man, because that's how his body reacted. He was able to live as well and as long as he did because he took good care of himself. I want that kind of life- a happy, healthy life. The only person that can give me that is me. The only person I can blame is me. It's all up to me.

So, who's excited for Christmas? I'm looking forward to the next few weeks. This Saturday, I have the underground VHS Class of 1999 reunion. I'm hoping to tell someone that I invented post-its. Next weekend, it's the (fourth? fifth?) annual Girls Christmas in Richmond. It's a good time of drinks and food and cookies and presents and hysterical laughter. Then, it's Christmas week! THEN, for the week after, I'll be on a boat off the coast of Florida somewhere with the boat people that are my in-laws.

This is getting rambly.

Varina Blue Devils party like it's 1999?

Lately, there has been some hilarious drama and speculation about my 10 year high school reunion. The class of 1999 planning committee (i.e. two girls who were student council members in 1999) sent out emails about 9-10 months ago, stating that we needed to send them $50 so we could have a reunion. While I understand that it costs a lot of money to put on one of these things, I had no idea where I was going to be 10 days from then. How could I possibly know if I would be able to attend the reunion 10 MONTHS from that email? So, no, I sent nothing in.

Apparently, neither did any of the other 300 people I graduated with.

Now, people are p-i-s-e-d. We are (according to facts on Facebook) the first class in FORTY-TWO YEARS to not have a 10 year reunion. That is so terribly hilarious, it hurts a little. One of the girls who sent out the aforementioned email has since gotten married and the other has a baby and, according to stories heard recently, too many other things to worry about. So, people on Facebook have decided to send messages to the newlywed about the reunion. This started one of the best back-and-forth status comment wars I have seen in a long time, with the newlywed’s OLDER SISTER telling people that they are bitter and unhappy and need prayers for a better life.

Are we actually ADULTS?

I don’t know why I’m surprised by any of this. Varina is a very interesting place to grow up. It’s a huge and varied area, and so you get people like me who grew up VERY close to the Richmond City limits and people who grew up in farm country with cows and corn and jacked-up trucks and… you get the picture. Anyway, you get those two groups of people in the same school, which makes for a weird setting. In addition, though it’s near the city, it’s very isolated so you have to make your own fun. Boredom leads to stupid decisions, and then you find out all your friends have slept with the same guy who is now trying (quite unsuccessfully) to hit on you. Everyone knows everyone’s business, and that’s how we thrive. Drama and gossip are a way of life in Varina.

The weirdest part is that, it follows you. I have not lived in Richmond since 2005, and I can’t escape the drama. Worse than that, I kind of love it. Varina drama is my favorite kind because it rarely involves me. I have a friend from my high school days that also went to JMU with me, and we’ve been able to continue our relationship into something better than it was at the start. Part of this is because we both love the drama, but it’s also because we were always on the outside using common sense, watching our friends make terrible mistakes. All of his friends “dated” all of my friends, and we are the lucky ones that escaped virtually unscathed.
So now, I find myself in the midst of the newest drama, and it’s funny and nostalgic and probably more entertaining than an actual reunion would ever be, but it still makes me a little sad. Are we all so caught up in the past that we can’t get over ourselves? Does it matter what someone said to me or what I said to others when I was 14? I know people have lots of different views about who I was and what I used to do, but I’m a different person now. I don’t care if we never spoke in high school; I like to talk to people and find out where they are. I like to think about the decisions they made and see how they have thrived. I spent 13 years with some of these people, and I think that means something. Thinking about this has made me realize that, as much as I mocked and teased about this, I would have liked to attend a reunion.

So, instead of the traditional reunion, my BFF Lindsey and I are planning to celebrate 10 years since high school and over 20 years of friendship by going to Mars bar in Richmond and dancing and laughing and talking about how dumb we were and probably still are. I don’t know when this will happen, but I’m already looking forward to it. (If you’ve never had the chance to go to Mars bar, lemme tell you, it’s totally awesome. 80’s music and good drinks and no one is there to impress anyone else? My kind of place!) I say, everyone else do the same. Find that person from your old days that makes you happy, and celebrate your past and present and future. Clink your glasses and make a toast to 10 more years of drama and stories. 10 more years of friendship. 10 more years until we get to do this all over again!