When we discuss the beauty of relationships, we rarely describe them in terms of taste beyond good or bad. But as a woman who’s dated many men and married none, I think the variety of our romantic interactions deserves a better range of adjectives.
So when the folks at WordPress prompted a discussion this week about taste and which we’d give up voluntarily, it only seemed fitting for me to equate it to my palate for the ups and downs of this portion of my life. Continue reading
“The best thing that WAGM-TV can do for business news is get Kim off the air,” one viewer emailed. “Not only does she look like a drug addict, she constantly looks like the camera is above her head.”
That encapsulates my first TV hate mail. Continue reading
Picture this. I stood on the floor of the concert hall dancing along with The Avett Brothers as they performed on stage 30 feet in front of me. Surrounded by friends who love them as much as I do, I didn’t hesitate to sing butcher their songs like any good horrible guest band member would.
Continue reading
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Drug addict.
Drug addict, who?
The proverbial “they” say imitation is the best form of flattery. In that vein, I’m marrying two posts I stumbled across and loved last week.
Continue reading
My cell phone rang. Jennifer’s name popped up. A best friend since age two, she was among the small guest list for my birthday dinner.
I was late. She was always prompt.
I hesitated to answer but relented on the third ring.
Continue reading
Wrapping up a lovely brunch on Sunday with a few of my closest girl friends, we stood on the sidewalk for a few moments to say our goodbyes.
“It’s like we’re all waiting to hug each other,” my friend Jodi quipped.
“Well, you know that’s not on my mind,” I retorted.
Everyone laughed. They know I’m not a hugger.
Before you get all judgy and assume I need counseling for some deep-seeded aversion to affection, let me explain. It’s not that I don’t hug people. I just subscribe to a self-imposed hugging etiquette that’s evolved over time.
If you read that headline and thought this would be about sex, get your mind out of the gutter. If you thought it was about graphic design, sorry, I can’t help you. This is story about falling and other not-so-graceful feats of klutziness – my expertise.
I bump into walls, desks and anything shin-level so frequently that you could play a challenging game of connect the dots with the bruises on my body. And in the last decade alone, I’ve survived at least five headers down flights of stairs. You could say it’s just the way I roll (or tumble).
A few weeks ago, I posted D’oh!, an embarrassing confession about how I included a typo in the domain name I reserved for Awkward Laughter. Day 21 of Zero to Hero (I’m playing catchup) challenged us to revisit that post and expand upon it.
Rereading D’oh! got me thinking about the unexpected ways life unfolds. Maggie from The Zombies Ate My Brains commented:
“That’s actually quite sublime! The universe knows what it’s doing sometimes, don’t you think? Thanks for sharing!”
My reputation can be summed up in two words: freak magnet. This isn’t a self-proclaimed status. As reputations go, I’d rather be known as witty, pithy or even nerdy. But if you ask my friends and family, they’ll most certainly tell you: “Kim is a freak magnet.”
That opinion is so universal that they refer to my experiences as “Kim stories.” God love them! They are a collection of day-to-day occurrences that make up my life, such as: Continue reading
![By Ad Meskens (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons](https://kimjamerson.files.wordpress.com/2014/03/central-station-clock.jpg?w=150)
Awkward Laughter 