Lovin’ Jim up in El Reno, OK

21 Oct

Y’all, Saturday was AWESOME!!!  The garage sale in El Reno raised over $2000 for my parents!!!  Fullest heart!!  Deepest, deepest gratitude, respect and thanks to the many volunteers and donators.  I’m going to give shout outs to the ones that I know about.  I know someone will get left off and I hate that but PLEASE post in the comment section if you know of someone that I’ve missed.  HUGE shout out to my second mom, Linda Olson Howard.  She pretty much organized and advertised the whole entire thing.  Spectacular lady.  Love.  HUGE shout out to my old college roommate, Brandi Stevenson Fowler, for reserving the location through her awesome uncle and for helping out with the set-up, sale and clean-up!!!!  Thank you, Brandi!  Thank you, Brandi’s uncle!!!!  Mike Fowler and Bryan Baker (aka field mouse), thank you for using your giant muscles to load that giant armoire.  You totally rock.  Thank you to Margo Loyall and Shouna Loyall Brown for their garage sale supplies/racks/expertise.  Shouna – you TOTALLY rock, girl!!!!!  Garage sale extraordinaire!!!!  Phennette Guay and Nowana Castrop – LOVE, LOVE, LOVE them.  Worked themselves to the bone.  Shane Mclain and JT – so sweet for helping both days!  Good, good eggs.  Al Guay drove some furniture all the way to Calumet to deliver for some nice people that purchased sale items.  Presh.  Addie Cox, my darling dear, who made the awesome repurposed sale items.  Gorgeous.  LOVE.  I hope Stella is as wonderful as you when she is 14 yrs old.  Truly love you, Addie.  Season Elise Cox!  Thank you for all your hard work and for catching my Garage Sale song on video.  That’s a keeper.  LOL.  I had so much fun with you!  It had been way way too long.  My Jbones, Julie Olson Riggins, I love you for life, sister.  Together come hell or high water.  Thank you.  Janna Lady Humphrey, driving all around the town picking up people’s donations, squirshing them into your vehicle, making my niece and nephie ride with crap squished all around them and on top of their heads.  Love you for life.  You do much more than you ever get credit for.  I notice.

The most gigantic shout out in Loveluli history goes to my precious hottie hubs, Casey Gerber, and my kinda okay brother-in-law, Chad Humphrey. 😉  They went to Medford TWICE before the garage sale with a Uhaul both times to load up all my parents stuff and then delivered the garage sale stuff to the site with the Uhaul – on the day of the huge pile-up on I-35, which they narrowly missed.  CRAY-ZAY.  So thankful for such awesome sons-in-law for my mom and dad.  They are pure gold.  Pure.  Even Chad.  I know, right?!  I love him.  IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII love him.

Okay, now for some pics and vids.  Fun.





It was a great weekend, yall.  I have such a full heart.  Thank you so much to the town of El Reno and all the wonderful peeps that came to support my little family.  Precious.  To those of you that decided not to come, you TOTALLY missed out.  It was a blast.  Great times.  Until we meet again.



16 Oct

I totally fixed the video disaster much thanks to my grouchy blog master, David Hayden. Heart you, David. I know I’m annoying but look at the excitement and joy I bring!!! Woot!!! Vids are up! I said Jerome in tha hou-ouse!!!!!!!


Oh y’all.  Today was CRAY-CRAY!!  The Uhaul had to be turned in by 5:00 pm and Chad and Casey both had to work.  Yes, on Sunday.  Ugh.  Don’t even go there.  There was a shat load of stuff to be done with only Janna and I to do it because Mom has been having some fluttering with her A-fib (please say a little prayer for her) and Dad can’t help us for obvious reasons.  Our crazy cousin, Eboni, got drafted to help us and UT and Aunt Laine took all of the kids to their house.  OMG.  The task at hand was so overwhelming that we wasted a good 45 minutes trying on Max’s (my nephew) wig and beard for his halloween costume.  Oh!  Did I tell you that he decided to be Jesus?  Well, he did.  Anyway, here’s what had to be done:

1. The garage that was full…

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I said Jerome in tha house

15 Oct

Oh y’all.  Today was CRAY-CRAY!!  The Uhaul had to be turned in by 5:00 pm and Chad and Casey both had to work.  Yes, on Sunday.  Ugh.  Don’t even go there.  There was a shat load of stuff to be done with only Janna and I to do it because Mom has been having some fluttering with her A-fib (please say a little prayer for her) and Dad can’t help us for obvious reasons.  Our crazy cousin, Eboni, got drafted to help us and UT and Aunt Laine took all of the kids to their house.  OMG.  The task at hand was so overwhelming that we wasted a good 45 minutes trying on Max’s (my nephew) wig and beard for his halloween costume.  Oh!  Did I tell you that he decided to be Jesus?  Well, he did.  Anyway, here’s what had to be done:

1. The garage that was full of boxes had to be completely emptied so that we could get to the washing machine.  The washing machine had to be pulled to the front so that we could take it to be exchanged (it had a little leak).

2.  We had to sort all of the boxes into three groups: storage, garage sale, house

3.  Then we had to repack the garage with the boxes keeping a big enough pathway to bring in the new washing machine.

4.  Next we loaded all of the stuff for storage onto the Uhaul.

5.  The three of us piled into the Uhaul with yours truly at the helm.

6.  It was funny.  Eboni was scared.  Janna was cackling and taking pictures the entire time.

7.  We made it to the storage unit with only one slight mishap.  ONE, folks.  That’s it.  We broke a piece of my parent’s very expensive bedroom furniture.  Ugh.  Both doors broke off of the armoire thing.  It fell over when I turned the corner.  We were pretty much devastated.  But that was the only sad part of today.

8.  We unloaded everything into TJ and Meg’s storage unit (thanks, guys, for letting us invade your space until the office is open and we can rent our own.  I mean until Chad and Casey are off work and can go move all that crap into a different unit.)  We thought we might need a little help moving the armoire so we asked these two random guys a few units down if they would help us unload it.  They both walked down there and one of the fart-heads stood there like a giant turd and watched my sister carry the heavy end of the armoire while his buddy carried the other end.  I said, “Don’t worry about it, homey, she’s a tough mudder.  You ever heard of that?” Of course he hadn’t.  I told him to google it when he got home.  Whatevs.   I think maybe the fart-head was high.  He just kinda stood there staring.  He looked a little like Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite minus the mustache.  Weird.  What dude just stands there and watches a 5’6″ girl lift an armoire with his buddy?  WTH has this world come to?!?!?!?!?!  That’s a whole nuther post.

9. I successfully drove the giant Uhaul out of the storage unit maze – which, I must say, is extremely impressive.  There was a ton of back and forth maneuvering AND I never ran into anything.  Really.

10. On the way to return the Uhaul, we realized that we had all ridden together in the Uhaul for obvious reasons, namely fun, and we were now going to be stranded at the Uhaul place.

11.  We called Eb’s dad, UT (Uncle Terry), to come pick us up.  He also brought all of the kids with him.  He drives a pickup truck.  Sooooooooo, Janna, Eb, and I had to ride in the bed back to my parent’s house.  It was funny.  And fun.  And possibly illegal?  Not sure on that one.

Pretty much it was one of the most grueling, most hilarious days that I’ve had in the LONGEST time.  HUGE shout out to our rad cousin, Eboni, for helping me and Janna.  She used her entire Sunday – the day of freaking rest – to help her nutty azz cousins.  We love you to the moon and back, Ebbers.

Here are some pics to chronicle the day.  Enjoy:





Eboni’s gangsta stylin’ self just sittin’ on the truck waiting on somebody to make a decision.


An example of the “end of packing” ghetto move situation.


How the ghetto packing made me feel.


How the ghetto packing made Eboni feel.


One final pose with the moose.  Glory hallelujah, I loved that Uhaul.


Luli at the wheel.  I ain’t playin’, folks.  Fire this mug up and let’s get the job done, son.


Luli, can ya watch the road, please?  Eb is having an anxiety attack, gripping the handlebar with white knuckles the entire time.  I said, “Well, Eb, would you rather drive this thing?”  “Well, hell no,” said Eb.



The sign said it would be best to keep it in the green, so naturally I had to take it to the red one time.  Naturally.


We finally got to the Uhaul store and the “new lady” checked the truck back in.  She totally tried to charge us for “using an extra day.”  This is how Janna looked when she told her the cost that was going on her credit card.


I got nervous and got inside the display box.


Janna decided to lay down in the waiting area until the manager could help us.


Let me recommend Darrold Hunt’s Uhaul store at 7525 SE 29th Street in MWC.  That’s all I’ll say about that.


UT and the kids finally got there to pick us up.


We rode in the bed of the pickup truck together just like when we were kids.


Janna was past the point of delirium.


Eb and I were just happy to be alive – stanky arm pits and all.

And I would be posting the best video ever made in America at this point but my “blog guy” (who shall remain nameless only because he is a free blog guy) won’t teach me how to properly post videos on here and the one I actually did get on here was totally by accident and went to the wrong place so I’m just leaving it like it is because I’m tired and it’s almost 3:00am so WHATEVER.  I WILL get that other video posted, though.  OMG I love you, Eboni!!!!!!!!!!!!  You are hilarious.  Glad you had me as a role model.  LOLOLOLOLOL!!!  All those family vacations to Padre paid off.

That’s it for today.




1 Oct DamnitBethie

It’s been a roller coaster of a week and I’m feeling a string of blog posts a mile long up in here.  Let’s begin with DamnitBethie, shall we?  OMG.  I mean, really.  My family, y’all.  The hilarity is never ending.

Yesterday, my sister, myself, Aunt Laine, and Aunt Bethie drove to Medford to help Mom start packing the house for the big move.  Aunt Laine is my mom’s younger sister and the baby of the family.

Aunt Bethie is my mom’s older sister (18 years her senior) and the oldest of the family.  Sooooooooo, since my mom was born in 1955, how old does that make Aunt Bethie?  Old.  Plus she inherited my Grandma Bacon’s “weak knees”.  You can only imagine where this is going.


Any old hoo, we had packed and laughed and cried a little and eaten cheeseburgers and Laine and Bethie were about to head back to OKC.  We kissed and hugged like we always do.  Mom and Janna walked them out to the truck.  Dad and I were inside – no doubt either talking over each other and laughing about something or sneaking cokes and corn nuts. Honestly, I don’t remember.  All I know is that before they stepped outside, I said, “Aunt Bethie, don’t go down the porch steps.  Walk down the ramp.  The last thing we need is for you to fall and break your hip.”  Ha Ha Hee Hee.  Ok.  I won’t.  Bye.  Love you.


Me:  “Dad, ya think Bethie just fell down the stairs?”

Dad:  “Probly.”

I run outside.  Man down.  Except the man was Bethie.

Me:  “DAMNIT, BETHIE!!!!  I thought I told you to walk down the ramp!!!”

Mom, Janna, and Elaine staring at each other in horror.

Bethie sitting on her butt at the bottom of the porch steps:  “You did, damnit it.”

And scene.

Later, Mom, Janna and I were outside trying to rig up a white trash makeshift tarp over the 50 million boxes of Dad’s books that we had loaded into the back of the truck.  We used trash bags, blankets, and straps.  It was pathetic.

We were all getting frustrated and I said, “I really feel like cussing right now.”

“I think one cuss word for the day will be enough,” said Mom.

Janna staring in horror.

Me:  “I’m telling Dad.”

I go inside.

Me:  “Dad, Mom just got me in trouble.”

Dad:  “What did you do now?’

Me:  “I cussed.”

Dad laughing:  “What did you say?”

Me:  “When I ran outside and saw Aunt Bethie flat on her butt at the bottom of the porch stairs I said, ‘Damnit, Bethie.'”

Dad laughing:  “Your mother was raised differently.  She thinks every bad word is a cuss word.”

By this time, Mom and Janna are entering the house.

Mom: “What do you mean, I was raised differently?  We were raised the same way.  And since when is damnit not a cuss word?”

Dad helplessly looking at me:  “Damnit.”

And scene.

So much more to come.



Classic Jim and Lyneeta Lady. Really.

12 Sep

Truth.  What I am about to tell you is a normal occurrence in Lady land.  My mother relayed this story to me with the most calm, every day, matter of fact tone you can imagine.  I am laughing out loud by myself at the kitchen table at 12:47 am because I totally wish I could have recorded this phone conversation with my mother today.  We would have received one billion dollars on the royalties of the recording.  Then, I wouldn’t have to worry myself with all of this fundraising.  ;0)

But first, a little background.  Let’s just start with Monday.  Here’s the setup:

Most of my faithful few are also my friends on facebook so you all know that my dad has been diagnosed with stage four prostate cancer with bone mets.  He’s been in the hospital for the past five days maybe?  I honestly don’t even remember what day it was that he went in.  In that time frame, I have become the craziest crazy, coocoo banana, loony bird, weeping, constantly talking wacko in the history of America.  No.  Make that the history of the whole wide world.  Universe.  Bad.  Nuts.  Casey’s ears are bleeding from my constant chattering.  Blood is coming out of his ear holes as we speak.  I have plugged his ears with cotton balls and changed them 45 times a day for the past five days because they won’t stop bleeding from my constant talking.  Not really.  Moving on. . . 

So on Monday, my handsome, hottie, hilarious friend, who shall remain nameless, prepared all of the legal documents for Durable Power of Attorney, took time out of his extremely busy schedule, came to the hospital, gave my family legal counsel, held me for a good three solid minutes while I sobbed uncontrollably, and kindly chatted with my dad, whom he has met but does not know at all AND made my dad laugh (which by the way, I think is really special because most people are really uncomfortable carrying on a conversation with a terminal cancer patient who has recently been diagnosed).  My old friend.  So funny.  So crazy.  So precious.  I will never in all of my days forget him holding me while I sobbed and being so gracious.  So kind.  So smart.  So helpful.  So down to earth and real.  My old high school work friend that used to drive to Sam’s club in OKC with a car off of the lot and buy candy for the vending machines and ALWAYS sneak me a free Mr. Goodbar.  Love. 

Also, my other handsome hottie friend with a grey beard (he’s hilarious too but there’s just something about the grey beard) took time out of his crazy work schedule, spoke with a case manager where he works, printed off tons of forms and paperwork for us, drove to Norman, explained the processes to us for disability, medicare, medicaid, SSI, wiping your butt properly (not really but he would have if we had asked), went to the Nurse’s station and asked them to go ahead and assign my dad a hospital case manager and send her down to dad’s room, offered to stay with us until she came so he could be our advocate, chatted with me in the waiting area for a bit while my parents visited with some friends (I only had to change his bleeding ear cotton balls twice), and stayed with my mom and I in the hospital room while my dad healed an old, deep wound with a close friend.  Watched my dad sob uncontrollably and me sit on the bed with him and pat him until he stopped – really just stood there in the room quietly as the strong and solid person and did this all with grace.  A good, good man.  One of Casey’s very best friends.  My BFF’s husband.  I love him for life.

The hospital case manager came to the room and gave us the info for every single financial option available to my parents.  Lined it all out. I had my iphone out ready to take notes on everything I needed to do so that mom wouldn’t have to worry about anything but dad.  She said, “Honey, put that thing away.  You don’t need to take notes!  This is my job.  I will do all of this for you.”  Brooke.  What a sweet, kind, smart resource.  Blessing.

A little lady from pastoral care came to dad’s room to visit with him and pray.  PRECIOUS.  So precious.  Millie.  When she left, I was in the hall speaking with a friend and she stopped and told me what a wonderful father I had.  What an inspiration he was to her.  How funny he was.  What a great attitude he had.  What a blessing to have a man like that lead me through life.  And then she cried. The pastoral care lady who does this every day five million times cried because my dad touched her heart in the five minutes that she knew him.  Amazing.  Thank you, Millie.  

Julie’s Aunt Jeanne and Uncle Gary.  I love them.  They came to the hospital in a rush when I was in a panic to find two witnesses for the Durable Power of Attorney.  They visited and laughed with mom and dad like they were old friends.  Special.  Man, I love those two.  Then when all of that was finally over, they took me and mom across the street to eat Mexican food because it was 2:30 pm and we were starving.  We were hungry and they fed us.  Kinda reminds me of a man I know.  You know, that story in the big book?  The Bible.  Hmmmmmm.  Jesus with skin on.

That was all on Monday.  Guess what in the Hector Lopez (an Alan-ism) happened on Tuesday?  Now we are getting to the hilarity.  Sorry it took so long.  You crying?  Just wait, you are about to pee your pants.  I’ll wait while you go get a towel to sit on so you don’t mess up your furniture.  Better yet, just take your laptop with you and sit on the toilet while you read this part.  You may lose all control of your bowels, so it’s probably best.

My dad got discharged today.  My parents went across the street for lunch to the same restaurant that AJ and UG took me and mom to the day before.  It was about 12:15.  Lunchtime rush.  I called my mom to get an update on the day because I had just gotten off of work.  We were chatting and in the background, I could hear my dad start hooking.  “Hoocking?”, you ask.  Yes.  My family has made-up words for lots of things.  Hooking is this crazy azz thing my dad does all the danged time because he has the most horrible allergies in America.  The world.  The whole universe.  It is this sound that is kinda a mix between a cough and a gag.  Literally, he does it in public all the time.  Can’t help it.  Honestly, couldn’t give a rat’s behind who hears him.  It is what it is.  Truly, though, everyone in my entire family has to swallow down vomit every time he does it.  ESPECIALLY Casey and Chad (my BIL).  I am laughing out loud right now.  By myself. It is 1:45 am.  I’m serious, y’all.  If you heard this sound, ya know the hooking, you would vomit.  Ten times in a row.  And then you would poop your pants.  And then toot when all of the poop was emptied out of your colon.  It is the craziest thing ever.  So. . . dad started hooking and I could hear him in the background.  Honestly, he did it several times and mom and I just kept right on talking.  Normal.  Whatev.  No big.  Then, I’m like, “Mom, what the crap?  Is dad having issues today or something?  I mean, crap man, y’all are in a restaurant.  Tell him to quit the hooking.”  Then mom is like, “I think your dad is choking.”  Like, not an exclamation point or anything.  Just a period.  So, I’m like, “Whatever mom.  Tend to dad.  I’ll call you back in a sec.”  So then I go on about my business.  Make a few calls.  Eat a few onion rings.  You know, chill for a few.  Then, I think “Well, I’ll call mom back now I guess.  Dad has probably stopped the hooking.  Ya know, cleared out the restaurant.  The bus boys are probably sprinkling that minty vomit dust on the puke spots on the floor so it’s probably at least quieter in the restaurant so mom and I can talk on the phone better.”  So I pick up my phone to call her and I see this text from her verbatim:  “Piece of corn tortilla went over dad’s windpipe. I had to partial heimlich.”  True life.  Not joking.  Side note:  Janna, I just started laughing again like I laughed when I called you on the phone.  I have lost my ever loving mind.  So, I snatch up my phone and call my mom.  She answers.  They have already paid the bill and are in the car.  I shout, “MOM!!!!  Is Dad ok?!?!  Are you ok?  What the heck?”  Calm as a dad-gummed wind chime on the back porch at 6:00 am on a fall day, my mom tells me this:  Well, honey, you heard the hooking.  When we hung up, your daddy had that crazy look in his eyes and then he put his hand up to his neck, you know, the universal signal for choking, and I just knew something wasn’t right.  This wasn’t your regular hook.  So, I just got up and beat him on the back a few times pretty hard and that didn’t really work so I just kinda did the Heimlich while he was in the wheelchair.  You know, it’s pretty hard to do the Heimlich on someone in a wheelchair.  And, you know, a piece of corn tortilla just flew right out of his mouth and onto the table.  I guess he just didn’t chew it up well enough and it just formed a perfect seal right over his windpipe.  Can you believe that?!?  Christa, get control of yourself.  Quit laughing so hard.  You are going to wreck your car laughing like that while you are driving.  Seriously.  Christa.  You are going to pee your pants in your car and then Casey is going to have to go buy some Febreeze.  Christa!  Quit laughing.

Me:  Mom, is dad ok?

Mom: Dear, are you ok?

Dad: Yes, I’m fine.

Mom:  He’s fine.  Just a little nauseated from all that hooking, you know.

Me:  Mom, are you ok?  Are you shaken up about having to Heimlich dad?

Mom:  Well, no.  Not really

Me:  Was everyone staring at you in the restaurant?

Mom:  Well, yea.  Kinda.

Dad, in the background:  Can you even imagine, after all of this, me going out by choking on a corn tortilla?  Now wouldn’t that be something?  

Me:  Mom, I’m gonna have to call you back.  I need to call Janna.  I’ll call you later.  Love you.  Glad dad is ok.  Tell dad that I love him.  Bye.

Y’all.  I called my little baby sister and we laughed our fool heads off.  1.  because we have been under so much stress that we are completely insane.  2.  because this is just a normal day in Lady land  3.  because we could picture dad doing the universal choking symbol with his eyes bugging out  4.  because we could picture mom slowly getting up and beating dad in the middle of a restaurant and then trying to Heimlich him around a wheelchair  5.  You just had to be there

The End.




27 Aug

I was zooping along Broadway Extension singing loudly to my Woot Woot, Jesus playlist when all of a sudden I spy with my little eye a Hispanic man running out into the middle of the highway because a giant mattress fell out of the back of his truck and was blocking a lane of traffic. SHIZ!!!!!!!!!!! You’ve never seen a woman make a crazier surprised/shocked/oops I crapped my pants face. Scared me to DEATH. Don’t worry, though. I saw him get the mattress safely to the shoulder in my rearview mirror. And then I went to Target and bought some new panties. Because I crapped mine. The End.


Uhhhh, what?!?!?

26 Aug

This is totally inappropriate to blog about, which is precisely why I must do it. Here’s what just happened to me:

So I bought these house numbers for Casey to put by the front door. He decided to work on it this afternoon. While he was outside drilling holes into the brick, I was in the office looking through old pics on the computer for a poster that Stella is making for school. Owen was outside with Casey and Stella was watching Spongebob. Mmmmmkay, the drilling was LOUD. I kept thinking I was hearing knocking, but I just attributed it to Casey’s outdoor shenanigans. The drilling stopped after a good fifteen minutes and Casey came inside to get something. As I was asking him where Owen was, I heard the knocking again on the back door. “Hmmmmm?,” I thought to myself. As I approached the back door, I heard Owen shouting, “Mom! Mom! Hurry!” Side note: these words are never good. I quickly opened the door to find this hot mess.

OMG. The back door was locked, Owen “felt a toot”, he started knocking, no one answered, he made the obvious choice and pooped on the back porch instead of running around the house to the front door where Casey was outside drilling. The End.