Justin + DMB = True Love

2000 was the year I was destined to experience love in a way I had only dreamed about in via cheesy romance novels or romantic comedies. I remember orchestra banquet that year, and Justin was my date -- I had asked him because, well, my first two choices wouldn't go with me. Ouch.

I remember walking up to Justin in the senior section of the school cafeteria (that was littered with underclassmen) and I was so nervous. I don't know why, because at the time, I didn't think I had a crush on him. Maybe it was because I didn't want to have yet another person turn me down.
And I remember his answer, "I'll have to check my calendar." Oh God, I remember thinking, that's it, I'm becoming a nun. Seriously, I looked into it and actually e-mailed a nun in Austin, where I'd be going to school that fall.

Later, Justin would tell me he had to clear it with his parents and actually make sure his schedule was clear. I'm sort of glad it was.


The night of the orchestra banquet was a total blast and I had an after party at my house that totally sucked because my mom had to work the next day and we had to be quiet. Sigh. But when Justin left that night from my house, it looked like he was going to kiss me. And I'm pretty sure I was like a deer in headlights because I was not expecting it. He chickened out, but luckily had the balls to ask me out about four weeks later.


And thus started our "summer fling" of no commitments, just enjoying each other's company. Look how that turned out:

• Long-distance relationship between UT and Pepperdine with Justin and I running up thousands of dollars in phone bills
• Long-distance relationship between UT and UNT until Justin could transfer into UT that fall with Justin sneaking down to visit me every once and awhile
• Engaged by 2003
• Married by 2004 (first dance -- and only dance -- was to DMB's Lover Lay Down); Walter joins the family
• First home by 2006

But back to the summer of 2000 -- or as I like to call it, the Summer of DMB. Justin's car had a 12-disc CD player that had nothing but DMB in it. That's all he'd listen to, so by default, it's all I listened to in his car as well. I remember hearing Seek Up for the first time, and I simply fell in love. Over the years my favs changed from Seek Up to Satellite to the Stone to the Last Stop. But I have since settled on an oldie but a goodie -- Song that Jane Likes. The only time I've heard in it concert was in 2005, the first day of a two-day stint at the Woodlands in Houston (we had gotten Fifth Row seats the following night, which were amazing). Anywho, I think I cried. But I cry easily, so not a big deal. Ha.

It's so weird, because I feel like DMB's music has chronicled so many chapters of my life, good and bad (bad chapter is going on right now).

And today, I found out that I got tickets to see DMB at the ACL taping this Monday night on the UT campus -- the campus where Justin and I shared so many memories. It's just too much.

And it totally blows that he can't go. Like, I almost don't want to go (but I still am) because he won't be there. For me, seeing DMB without Justin is like attending your wedding sans groom. Luckily, I'll be going with Ashley -- but still. Totally blows. I hope he can get back from Dallas in time, but it's not looking likely. Breaks my heart.

So the plan is to sneak in my flip cam and then record the entire concert on my iPhone so he can listen to it. Hopefully I won't get kicked out, but Justin has been through so much this year, that he needs this. So I'm going to be the team player I am and deliver.

Because to me, DMB has a silent member and his name is Justin. Check out my Facebook page for some additional retro pictures.

Happy Fifth Anniversary, JB!

It only seems like yesterday that the better half and I decided to embark on that special life-long journey called marriage. *Swoon* Because I love quoting random stats, I was going to provide you with some sort of information about how “50 percent of marriages end in divorce after five years.” Turns out, that frequently quoted stat is based on historically flawed math and based on trends from the 1970s when everyone was swinging and high as a kite. Us 2000’s kids are much more refined. (Justin doesn't look too happy in that photo. More annoyed I guess)

Marriage statistics today, according to a New York Times April 2005 article (yes, it’s more almost four years old, but I’m trying to work with what I can find here), state that there are huge differences between people with a college degree and those who don’t have one. Turns out, only 16% of women who have a degree divorce within 10 years, compared to the more than 35% who don’t have a degree. Of course, if you’ve ever read Freakanomics, you can get numbers to tell you anything you want – like the fact that based on both of our names our parents are white and poor without any formal education. And we’ll most likely be naming our first born Quinn (that would be a girl’s name… which is lame. It sounds like I would name my child after a fictional television character). So you can really get stats to say whatever you want them to.

My longwinded point is we’re still married. Horray! We’ll be having dinner at Jeffrey’s here in Austin and then head back home to hang with Walter. If you have any good recommendations on what to get at the restaurant, I’d love to hear them. Just DM me at @jennijewel. (Picture taken at our fourth-anniversary dinner at Finn and Porter)

And what cool things have we gotten each other? Well, I’m glad I asked on your behalf. Both of us had been struggling to figure out what to get each other (actually, I’m lying… Justin apparently knew this whole time). Fifth anniversaries are usually celebrated by giving something made of wood. Or if you want to go more “modern” instead of traditional, silverware is the gift of choice. I’d like to consider myself a mod kind-of-girl, but why on earth would you give a guy silverware?

Anywho, back in college, Justin had this fascination with a game called Go. I think he read somewhere that really smart people play the game, and he fancies himself a smart person. Plus, it is understood to be one of the most complex games in the world. It turns out that playing Go causes you to use the right side of your brain more and decreases your chance of Alzheimer’s. Justin never got a board in college, because they were too expensive and we were both poor. It was forgotten about, until about a month ago, when I remembered his love of a game he’s never played before, and more importantly, the fact that this game happens to have a wooden board.

And what did the swell boy get me? Well, about a year ago, as I was really starting to learn how to play golf, Justin made a deal with me. If I could score 60 on nine holes (pathetic, right?), he would get me a driver. On a fateful day about a month ago, I actually got a 47! Granted, it was at the Butler Park Pitch and Putt, but I’ll take what I can get! And so last week, he surprised me with a trip to Golfsmith to pick up not only a driver, but a hybrid as well! Woot! To understand my seriousness at this decision, my final choice was between a purple Ping driver and a TaylorMade. And while I loved the idea that I could have a purple driver, I went with the one that I hit better. And then we went to the golf range, where I hit that driver 200 yards! It’s my best friend now, displacing Ashley. Haha. Kidding. Sort of. As a quick history of the game – drivers are technically a 1-Wood. Hence the gift. (Picture taken out at Horseshoe Bay last summer... by my husband.)

So all in all, a very good five-year anniversary. And more importantly, an awesome five years! BTW -- if you ever want to experience our ridiculous relationship in-person, feel free to crash at our house anytime you're in Austin. Just give us a 24-hour heads up. :) We usually take guests to dinner AND pay. So it's really a win-win.

Nostalgic Gaming, a.k.a. Zach Morris died of Cholera

So my last post was six months ago! Whoops. However, the more I think about it, the more I realize my life hasn’t been bloggable during that time. There have been plenty of things go down, but some events are better left unwritten.

But I’ve decided to break my dry spell with this awesomeness. I was reading my favorite blog, Gizmodo, yesterday, when I stumbled across this: Oregon Trail iPhone Game Hands On.

For the young-ins reading this blog (or those who did not grow up playing on Apple II’s during computer class at the school library): The Oregon Trail was an educational game developed back in 1971 by student teachers using a mainframe computer. Honestly, the fact that student teachers even knew how to use a mainframe computer is somewhat impressive – they’re hard to use now! Anywho, the game became so popular that it was sold on floppy disk in 1985 with another updated release in 1991 and again in 2001 (Thanks, Wikipedia!)

The premise of the game was to take you and the family (which you had the opportunity to name) along the Oregon Trail with limited supplies, money and food – which you then collected along the way to get to the final destination. Of course, random people would die off of various diseases or unfortunate accidents, and most likely if you ever played the game, you got to write on your own tombstone final words of wisdom that could be read by others. (Which most immature people would take that as an opportunity to show-off their newly learned vulgar vocabulary from an older sibling. Clearly, I went to a public school.)

It turns out that I shared a common theme with my husband (who went to the elementary school a few blocks down from mine) – we would name our Oregon Trail posse after Saved by the Bell characters. We would also kill too much buffalo – because let’s face it – we enjoyed shooting. Ironically, as much as the settlers did, since they almost wiped them out back in the mid-1800s. And history repeats itself in a school library. Fascinating.

And after reading the review of the Oregon Trail app for my iPhone, I knew it must be mine. My only hesitation was this – it was freakin’ $6. Up to this point, I had never paid for a single app on my iPhone. Maze Finger, Word Warp, Trace, iGolf, iBowl, Air Hockey, Whoppie Cushion (I will never forget eighth grade algebra and putting the whoppie cushion on the teacher’s seat, and it not working… LOL) – and my awesome metronome and tuner app for when I play violin – I grabbed them all for free.

But after discussing the potential purchase with my husband (which was most likely similar to talking with two seven-year-olds – we had reverted back 20 years), I bought it. And I couldn’t be more delighted. Both of us spent the next hour and a half choosing names for the family (Papa, Nana, Justin, Jenni and Walter) – which accidently got deleted when Ashley called to tell me about how awesome the LOST Season 4 finale was (I’m very excited she has blown through the whole series in the matter of a month, BTW) – we ended up sticking with the default names and went on our merry way.

I’ll say this – the hunting, picking fruit, floating the river – is way better than the Apple II version, yet stays true to the original game. While Indians are not narrowly picking off my family (which was apparently PC back in the 80s… but not in the 00’s), one of the children did get carried off by a bald eagle and was found two days later in a tree.

I’m still on the trail – and I’m doing this in easy mode until I get the hang of it – but all in all, I’d say this game is worth every penny – just because I can sit there and play it with my husband while we talk about the old version and reminisce about the olden days. We sound like we’re already 75 apparently ;)

So if you went to elementary school in MISD – or remember playing this game at school back in the day, grab the game on the iPhone. Better yet, if you are a true dork, download the original version for the Apple II here for free: http://classicgaming.gamespy.com/View.php?view=gmfiles.detail&id=128. Reading the comments even reminded me that it was a two-disk floppy game! Ah, the memories!

And if you were one of the punks that would leave the vulgar tombstones – now you’re free to do that in the comfort of your own living room without fear of a goodie two-shoes (i.e. ME) ratting you out to the school librarian.

“RIP Zack Morris. You were so hot and I wanted to marry you, even though I’m only 11.”

It’s Christmas – Let’s Get Sloshed!

So I’m pretty sure when Christ was born, the Lord wasn’t downing a ridiculous amount of wine to celebrate his son’s birth. Just a guess, and God – feel free to comment, as long as you are a Blogger Beta member. If not, feel free to reach me directly on my e-mail.

Since Christ’s birth however, man has turned Christmas time into more of a party-type atmosphere. Specifically, during the work “Christmas Party” – better known as the “Holiday Party” to avoid being sued for infringing on non-Christians beliefs, or lack thereof. But I digress.

The “Holiday” party for your work typically consists of general mingling with those you already spend 40+ hours with on a weekly basis. Do we really want to spend that much time with work-folk? According to a recent study conducted by myself and based on no statistics or discussion with others, we’re pretty indifferent.

The tipping point to those attending such a party is this – free booze. My work “Holiday” party had a substantial amount – full bar to be exact – for more than two hours. It’s like Wedding Crashers or something, except you go for the booze alone and not random hook-ups.

However, what is the motivation for individuals to attend “Holiday” parties when no free booze is offered? Take for example my husband’s work. Apparently, his work party is on a Thursday from 4-6 p.m. – serving only appetizers. We aren’t going either. Now, granted, my husband doesn’t drink and I have to actually work that day, but the point is, I’d at least try and leave work early if free booze was involved and my husband was actually going (he is in a golf tournament that day). But citing that same study from the above paragraph, who wants to hang around people you already have daily/hourly contact with if there is no incentive?

Just a thought, and my study is free to interpretation. So feel free to interpret in the comment section. You too, God. I know you want to.

My Top 10

I haven’t updated in awhile, and while I keep wanting to with all the glorious tidbits of life I experienced during the last week, I just haven’t. Ay.

Anyways, to make the brain dump easier on myself – and you, oh loyal reader(s) – I have compiled a list of my top 10 Blogger-ish Moments. The first five kinda suck, because I can’t think of that many things that happened.

10. I love having four days off from work; however, the “Case of the Mondays” are particularly heinous afterwards.
9. Justin’s grandmother had cancer treatments on Thanksgiving Day. Very sad. BUT, she is still so beautiful – and her wig makes her look at least 10 years younger! I just think that is fabulous.
8. Black Friday was surprisingly easy going at Last Call in Austin. I mainly wanted to beat people up because they had poor fashion sense, not a poor attitude.
7. Potheads are sooo not cool. Not as much a blogger moment, as fact. Don’t do drugs, become a underpaid professional instead – it has the same downer effect.
6. Seeing a bunch of old people get off a bus in front of my parent’s house to pick pecans. HAHAHA.
5. Taking a 5-mile walk while the old people are picking pecans, only to come back and see my dad taking a picture of the old people in front of said bus and parent’s house. I was too tired to do another 5 miles though, so I just laughed really hard.
4. Going with Ashley to Fredericksburg on Saturday for a day of shopping. Nothing really that blog-tastic, other than the fact I blew an unbelievable amount of money of stuff that quite easily qualifies as junk. Makes for good Christmas gifts, I suppose. Just don’t ask me where I got your gift. Gift to myself – some Uggs… but I got those at Nordstrom after shopping in Fredericksburg.
3. Walter getting loose in the backyard and us freaking out that he ran away, only to find out he had somehow managed to prop up the fence, craw over to the neighbors, and get stuck over there. What a nut.
2. Justin breaking a pitcher filled with Crystal Light all over the kitchen floor. That’s not the funny part. The funny part was him trying to figure out how to use a mop – it was his first time mopping. Hil-ar-e-mus!
1. Being asked to vacuum my parents house and clean the bathroom (like, the toilet, the tub, everything) in return for staying there. Needless to say, we won’t be staying there again any time soon. Silly ‘rents!

I’m related to a Desperate Housewife!

So I suppose I need to clarify this one, but it’s pretty funny. In middle school, myself (along with others who read this blog), went to school with a Josh Henderson. He was a bit of a player in the day, and I’m going to say, rightfully so – he was hot. He had a new girlfriend every week, which wasn’t entirely surprising back in the middle school era, but he had to move at the end of the year, breaking the hearts of a handful of girls.

Flash forward to 2001ish. Justin gets a call from his mom that his cousin (I think like 2nd or 3rd) is on this WB Making the Band-type show called Popstars that was, honestly, horrible. Turns out it’s Josh Henderson. So he’s on that show, and at Thanksgiving, another relative says he’s dating the younger, not-well-known sister of Jessica Simpson – Ashlee Simpson.

Anyways, they break up (obviously), and we’re told that he is trying to “make it” in Hollywood, and was in a Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen movie… not exactly big time, but whateva.

So I haven’t been keeping up with Desperate Housewives this season (I’ve watched one or two episodes) – and the hot new love interest for Julie on the show is Edie’s nephew… played by Josh Henderson! HAHAHA. So funny. He even has an IMDB page! Click: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1259068/ Apparently he’s been in a few movies too… Step Up as one of them. That’s so hilarious.

So in theory, I’m sorta related to him by marriage. I’ll really start cracking up if I read about him on PerezHilton or something.

Why Running in Circles is More Productive Than Voting

Back in 12th grade, specifically government class with Mrs. Anderson, I was Ms. Utopia Voterwoman – 18, and anxiously holding my voter registration card for the first opportunity to vote.

Then I met a Justin B. Justin was also of Utopian mindset until our sophomore year of college, when InfoWars and 9-11 tainted his view of politics. Now of the conspiracy mindset, Justin tries to inflict his anti-voting venom on me at any given moment.

And I’ll admit, up until about 4 p.m. today, the venom had a poisonous affect on me. That and the fact that researching politicians all day does not help their pleas that corruption, money, manipulation, and lies only affect a smaller portion of “their kind.” The fact of the matter is, even the most honest politician or his minions have one of those traits, no matter how “Christian” or “Honorable” they may be.

But seeing my fellow co-workers get into the “voting” spirit got me excited about my civic duty. And I realized, as much as I’m disgusted with politics today, my previous stance of “uninformed voters are much more dangerous than non-voters” made me feel even more apathetic. I became determined to make a change.

So I did some quick research, printed out some names, highlighted some topics, and left work early to vote. Instantly, I became an informed, or delusional, voter – some would argue both are one in the same.

I pull up to the Episcopal Church that is my voting station, and see the line reaches to the driveway. Not to fear, glorious technology is in place to make this civic duty a quick and painless process.

An hour later, I’m still in the driveway.

I finally get to the front of the line, show my driver’s license to the kind, but slow (as in the main reason why the line was going slow) man so he could confirm my registration in the precinct and be on my merry way.

My name, however, was nowhere to be seen on the binder.

“Sir, this must be incorrect. I re-registered to vote in the precinct when I changed the address on my driver’s license.”

The “voting judge, ” or whatever her title was, informs me that several people have come into only to find out that checking the box at DPS DID NOT WORK.

SONS OF BITCHES! Normally I do not speak such harsh terms regarding my former employer, but my old boss/friend/mentor is getting an irate call from me tomorrow.

At this point, I may have started to tear up, only because I truly wasted an hour and a half of my time for nothing. The judge tried to get some official on the phone, but the line was busy. And by this point, I couldn’t drive over to my old precinct because it was already 7 p.m.

So, I stood in line for an hour and a half, and the only people that knew my good intentions were me and God. Unfortunately, God wasn’t listed in my precinct either. He must live in a new neighborhood too.

So it appears that the three-year-old boy standing in front of me the whole time, running circles around his mom and sister, got more out of voting than I did… I went home empty handed – no “I voted” sticker proudly displayed on my chest.

Oh, and side note – a new girl at work asked me if I was pregnant today. But that’s a story for another blog.

No Electricity SUX

Last night, the electricity went out for about two hours. It probably was the most boring two hours of my life because Justin and I were forced to spend time with each other. I wanted to watch TV, he wanted to watch football, we both wanted to surf the Internet and IM each other... and we couldn't do anything. We sat. And sat some more. We walked outside for ten minutes and saw neighbors dropping out like flies (the whole neighborhood had no power). In fact one couple got into separate cars and drove off. Another guy was trying to pick up other men to go play pool at the local pool house -- hopefully he wasn't disappointed and the power was out there as well.

Finally, after lighting some candles, I realized I could play free cell and watch LOST on my computer (thank you Dell and your 3 hour battery life). Justin was forced to play Solitaire on his computer (on his Vaio with about 45 minutes of battery life). Luckily the power came back on and we quickly went back to normalcy. YAY!

However, our electricity woes just began! Justin and I were abruptly awaken at 5:55 a.m. by the sharp shrill tone of our burglar alarm. Seriously, I thought we were toast. It stopped after four seconds or so, and we realized it was the smoke detector (which is connected to our house alarm). I couldn't go back to sleep, and tried to figure out what made it go off. Ugh. So Justin is handling that with the builder this morning -- our smoke detector is too high up on our ceiling and even the nine-foot ladder can't get to it! Plus, the smoke detectors run off electricity and a power supply -- not battery operated. So we're just confused really.

Home ownership is not something to go into lightly, people. Sigh. That's another blog for another day.

Old School Nintendo

So I introduced Justin to this Web site I found surfing the net for work one day -- VNES -- yes, a virtual old school Nintendo game Web site. Sick.

Anyways, he's been playing it non-stop and enjoying it, so I thought I should share it with the rest of the world/2 people that read this blog. (Hi, Arnold and Ashley's mom!)

That, and it provides a great excuse to post this picture. Thanks Gizmodo and some random Japanese site.

To All My Girls...

At work, we have this white board that everyone writes on – Ivette and I usually pick a topic for the day, and people go at it.

Today’s topic – favorite Disney character. Some individuals are “ghost” writers/answerers for others in the office. (For example, one poor chap had Tinkerbell listed next to his name) Regardless, conversation soon shifted to the best Disney movie of all times, with most of the girls agreeing to Beauty and the Beast. A close second, in everyone’s mind, was The Little Mermaid.

Oh, I wish I could be part of that world – underwater, hanging with a blowfish, an overbearing father, combing my lustrous red hair with a fork. What an awesome life. As we’re talking about The Little Mermaid and the impression it made on our 5- to 10-year-old minds, some word vomit came up.

I admitted that I would practice being Ariel. You know, that scene where she leaps out of the water, landing on a rock, her hair flowing around her with the twitch of her neck, and water cascading around her like a frame. Obviously, I’ve watched this movie a lot.

Anyways, turns out, all the girls in the office did that! I was shocked – I thought it was something that I just did, and quite possibly still do.

I didn’t mention that Justin and I still listen to the soundtrack in the car ;) I saved that for this blog. Haha.

“Sha-la-la-la-la don’t be shy, you gotta go on and try, go on and kiss the girl.” “WHOA-WHOA!”

The Bird Flies High

I always get onto Justin about being an aggressive driver.

He’ll take upon himself to “show” people how rude they are – some people call it road rage, I call it stupid, and tell him so anytime we are in the car.

It’s like this:

1. Don’t flash your brights when someone is going slow. Simply wade it out and go around them.
2. Don’t give someone the evil glare while waving your fist, they could pull a gun on you and kill your ass.
3. Don’t block others in the left lane from going fast because you think it is illegal. Let them pass, and I’m sure some happy state trooper will greet them further up the road.
4. While others do not understand the protected right on green concept, there is no need to honk at them until they do not take action for at least 15-20 seconds after the green light has occurred. After that, I polite tap of your horn with a friendly wave should let them know that “no hard feelings, but please go ahead and take that right. Thanks a bunch and peace and love and such!”

I try to live by these ideas, and others, when driving.

But there are occasions when I feel it necessary to “express” my frustrations driving.

Case in point: this evening, after a 10 minute discussion on why I would be the one to fetch the to-go order from Pei Wei. After a long day of work (seriously, LOOOONG) I didn’t feel like fetching the food. For Justin, hitting golf balls outside of his place of work and playing dodgeball in the cubicle area of his office equals extreme physical exhaustion.

Apparently mental exhaustion does not trump physical exhaustion, so I set out to pick up the food. On my way back, I decided to take 290 all the way to the main street to get to my neighborhood. It narrows down to one lane and there is always a back-up.

I do my part, and merge into the left lane with a reasonable amount of space left in front of me. After the lanes merge, I continue my decent off the highway and to the stoplight, only to look in my rearview mirror to see some a-hole barreling down the shoulder.

Sitting in this traffic for 10 minutes, smelling glorious Pei Wei must have pissed me off, because I flicked the guy off. Maybe this will shock some of you, but I had never flicked off another driver before.





Okay, I lie. I have flicked off other drivers before; however, I always did it under the window so they wouldn’t see me. (See point two above) I mean, I don’t even really honk at people unless the really, truly deserve to be honked at. (Reference point four)

So I’m feeling pretty good about myself, until I see the guy slow down and turn to park… and I’m like, “Oh, fudge.”

But it turns out he only parked at the range – the GUN RANGE! OMG! Okay, maybe I overreacted, but I mean, the guy really did have a gun in his car. He could have pulled his gun on me instead of taking out his aggression at the range. I mean, obviously this blog is one big overreaction to life, but seriously, guns scare the heck out of me!

In retrospect, he probably was going too fast to even see my “bird.” But I have learned a most valuable lesson.

My bird is flying back under the radar, err… window, from now on.

Hurt so good…

After a particularly grueling day of activities at the office (got there at 7:45, left a few minutes before 7… and there was still traffic on MOPAC – go home to your families people!), I came home to a glorious site.

Justin, who will be referred to in this posting as “Man-Wife”, spent the day at home taking care of household chores.

Let me back up to 7:00 a.m. that morning. After getting up earlier (6:00 a.m.) to do some work, and watch Saved by the Bell (the one where Screech and the rest of the gang competes in a beauty pageant), I thought a more gentler approach to waking up “Man-Wife” would be to talk to him until he started talking back, instead of resetting the alarm.

After about two minutes, I begin to get a little agitated, as I need to get to work. Finally he rolls over and says, “I’m going to take a vacation day.”

I was mad, I’ll admit it. I had so much stuff on my plate for work that day, to just hear someone passively dismiss work was upsetting, mainly because I can’t do the same. Call it selfish, childish, rude – I’m all three.

So his butt gets up long enough to e-mail his boss on my still-running computer, and goes back to bed, and Walter follows him to pass out.

But luckily “Man-Wife” went to Central Market for groceries during his day off, and by the time I got home, this gorgeous meal was waiting for me. I mean, Spinach penne pasta, sun-dried tomato sauce, with chunks of fhicken (fake-chicken), topped with three different cheeses. I mean, literally, I walked in the house with a hug and a kiss, food on the table, and a “Man-Wife” who loves me.

Now I know why men like their women at home.

So after that adventure, we go for our weekly (or bi-weekly… just depends on the mood) massages at Massage Envy. There is this couples room, and I always feel more comfortable hanging with “Man-Wife”. Plus, this was the first time I had a guy working on me.

Male massage therapists are probably the most under-utilized. For men getting a massage, to be worked on by another male is insulting to your so-called “manhood.” For women, especially if you are dating or married, it just doesn’t seem right that this guy is getting access to your body typically reserved for your significant other.

But after yesterday’s adventure, I’ll be using male massage therapists for the rest of my life! I’ve never been in so much “good-pain” in my life. I mean, he was tearing into me. I’m so sore today. And being in the same room as “Man-Wife” didn’t make it awkward, because if he tried to cop a feel, I could just be like, “Man-Wife!” and scantly-clad “Man-Wife” lying on the table next to me could save the day. HAHA. What a visual.

Babies, and how I'm not having any :(

Justin had the wonderful opportunity to baby sit Colin (shown here), a very cute, adorable and active cousin of his, while Colin’s mom and I went shopping.

I don’t think Justin quite knew what he was getting into, as he willingly offered to watch Colin. Someday, Justin is going to make a terrific dad, and I’m incredibly excited about the prospects of having adorable little red heads running around our house someday. But now is not the time.

By the time we returned five hours later, Justin didn’t even get a chance to say hello or bye, as he ran away.

Yes, he ran away, went to go chill out by purchasing baseball cards. It was almost comical really – he looked fried. Colin on the other hand, was still going strong, running around in nothing but a t-shirt and diapers.

After Justin returned, I was informed I (he said “I” referring to me, but really, I think he was referring to himself) am not ready to have children, saying I couldn’t handle that. He’s the one that ran out the second we got home. Nerd.

HAHAHA… I was like, seriously Justin, it isn’t like the Lord has women popping out two-year olds. That’s why you have a nine-month incubation period, and the baby starts off tiny and grows into a crazy kid. It’s so you have time to adjust.

So my attempts to have babies, quit my job, etc. have been foiled for the next two to four years, as I could not handle it. Dang it.

Golfing

I've been working on my golf swing/game/hitting the ball during the last few weeks, and I feel like I'm making solid progress.

So in true Jenni fashion, I decided to reward myself with the following:

• Pink golf glove by Nicole Miller. Well, at least I didn't get the $8,000 Louis Vuitton golf bag I saw. Although, I will say, if Coach made one, I'd start saving my money. Plus, think of all the purses and shoes I could buy with that much money.
• 15 pink golf balls. I would have gone with the purple (my official color); however, I've found that the majority of my golf outfits are pink, and I didn't want to clash.

Now, to clarify, I had actually bought Justin something for our anniverary (we celebrate two... when we started dating and our wedding dates... JB is trying to get out of the first one, because he doesn't want to spend the money, which is a fair argument, but I got an iHome out of the deal, so woot), and I needed to get the order above a certain point for free shipping. So I wasn't as much rewarding myself as trying to save money.

Yes, Jenni... keep telling yourself that.

I'm going to try out a new church this weekend... the Catholic church out in Lakeway, and then maybe go watch Justin play in the Lakeway Cup. He's such a talented golfer, and it is a lot of fun to watch him dominate.

Alright, I'm pretty sure this is the crappiest blog I've ever wrote. I'm debating erasing this whole thing, but to be honest, it isn't worth the effort.

We’re expecting? Um, what?

Father’s Day is that time of year when families get together, profess their love of good ‘ol dad, and then go about their daily business.

Justin and I had his entire family over (around 20 people) to the house for some golf, fellowship, and food. His family has a tradition of passing out an enormous amount of cards (Hallmark must make enough money off of them in one year to supply ten full-time artists/writers) and this “holiday” was no different.

What was different this year is Justin getting a Father’s Day card. I was minding my own business cleaning the kitchen while others were opening gifts (it was also Justin’s sister’s birthday and his uncle’s), when I hear, “Jenni, you got Justin a father’s day card? OOOOH, are you pregnant?”

Um, hell no I’m not. But let’s back this boat up.

I don’t do cards first of all. I find them to be an enormous waste of money and they get thrown away that same day. I mean, buy some chocolate for that $2.50 instead of a card that approximately 15,000 other people get in a given year.

Second, if Justin were to receive a card from me proclaiming I’m pregnant, it definitely wouldn’t be in front of 20 other people, all finding out at the same time. That announcement is a private moment meant to be shared between me and him… and then shortly thereafter, as many people as I can call in one day.

So it turns out it was just a bad joke by some family member on Justin, or me… I don’t quite know.

But seriously folks, let’s try and keep the witful humor related to things like poop, pee, someone farting, not on my uterus. It just isn’t as funny.

Barf… literally

Some people are light sleepers, others sleep really hard, and carry conversations with people while sleeping and don’t remember. Others become apathetic during their sleep and only recall their idiocy when they wake up… or are reminded of it.

In high school, I carried on a conversation with a friend at about 10 p.m. – however, I was asleep. The following morning my dad wakes me up to listen to the answering machine. Apparently the conversation was recorded on the answering machine, which was hilarious, because I had no idea I was even on the phone. Much like when I’m awake, my discussions make no sense when I’m asleep.

Fast forward to 10 years later. I’m asleep by 10 p.m. (not much has changed since high school apparently…) and I vaguely remember Walter trying to wake me up between 10-11:15 p.m., but I didn’t care.

Then Justin comes in around 11:15, and wakes me up with this proclamation: “Oh my God! It smells like shit in here.” Then my memory of Walter trying to wake me up flashes through my mind, followed by an, “Aw, crud.”

Walter pooped, peed, barfed, and then left puddles of poop (I know gross… sorry). Justin ran off to the bathroom at one point while we were cleaning because he felt sick, and then I was jumpy the rest of the night thinking it was going to happen again… plus the smell was HORRIBLE all night long.

So, glad I was paranoid because he barfed and peed again at 4:45… I rushed him outside and he did his DIRRRRRTY business again out there. WOOO. Thank goodness. I don’t know how much more my carpet can take.

I went to check on him during the midday, and he seems a lot better, and he ate some food. So, he’s in the clear for now! I will talk to the vet on Friday about what causes this and how I can prevent it from happening twice in one night!

YUCK!

Ikea and the Bed…

Some of you (well, maybe just one person) might remember a trip to Houston and Ikea back in April. Well, I’m happy to report that we were finally able to assemble the canopy bed we bought.

Yes, you read right: it took us a month and a half to finally put the bloody bed together. The funniest part is 99 percent of the bed was put together the afternoon we bought it (by myself I might add… muscles flinching as she types). But, there were these funky cross bars that wouldn’t attach to the bed because the holes were too small to fit the screws in.

After much arguing, analysis, and consultations of experts (i.e. Justin’s cousin and a co-worker), we decided that these cross bars provided no additional structural support to the bed frame. This analysis period took well over a month to complete.

So yesterday we made the bed, tested it out (take that for what you will), and felt accomplished.

Cookie Monster

So there was this incident on Easter I need to discuss that I hadn’t really brought up.

I gave up all kinds of desserts for the lovely Lenten season, and as a reward, Gran made me her famous (and by famous I mean, I know about them and they are GLORIOUS) fudge and sugar cookies.

On Easter, I was fairly miserable and over dosed on serious sugar… she made enough for me to bring back, and I was clinging to them as we were loading up the car to head back to Austin.

Unfortunately, my husband, who in today’s blog will be referred to as EVIL JERK, told me to give him the desserts and for me to take Walter and put him in the car.

Like the obedient and loving wife that I am, I happily obliged him, knowing that my desserts would be in strong, caring, and safe hands.

I WAS WRONG.

EVIL JERK decided to not head straight to the car with the sweets; rather, EVIL JERK decided he was thirsty and needed a Propel before he left Dallas. Sitting the sweets down on the counter, EVIL JERK got is Propel and LEFT MY DESSERTS ON THE COUNTER.

Okay, so you may think I’m overreacting a tad on this, and to be honest, I know I am. But you just don’t get it until you experience this fudge and sugar cookie combo… I mean, it brings back all the memories of childhood and spending so much time with my grandparents, plus Gran could sell these desserts and make a crap load of money.

So about twenty minutes down the road, I realized we had left the sweets, and EVIL JERK refused to turn around and get them, even though it was entirely his fault.

And I cried. I admit it – My grandmother is 88 years old (89 in August) and this very well could have been her last batch of cookies and fudge she ever made me! And it isn’t like I have the recipes to these, I totally do… but as decent of a cook as I am, I just can’t compete with the expertise of Gran.

So we called EVIL JERK’s mom (known in today’s blog as M-I-L SAVIOR) and she froze the sweets for me.

It’s been weeks, and finally yesterday EVIL JERK went to Dallas for some meetings and golf with some clients or something, and picked up the glorious sweets, after I called to remind him and MIL SAVIOR.

And all day today I have been showering co-workers that are deemed worthy enough (or rather, that knew about my tearful pout) with yummy cookies and fudge. Ivette even wants me to ask how much Gran would charge for her fudge.

I’m telling you… I’m going to steal Gran for a week, and we are going to make fudge and cookies all week long, so I can learn the way of the Gran and then sell this stuff online.

XX-XY (Maybe even an XXH?)

What a boring day. I have a lot to do, and I’m doing it, but geez, I just want to go home and nap. I’m having a really bad headache, stemming from lack of water and annoying florescent lighting, and we are getting a new mattress delivered this evening for a bed we haven’t finished putting together. Lovely.

Yesterday was a busy day. We had to finish cleaning the apartment and turn in our keys (about an hour in we both said “Fuck It” – to cleaning) and left. Haha. Ashley stopped by to see the house before she left for Houston. While she was in town she got a sweet new car – fully loaded Toyota Four Runner… gorgeous – and so Justin christens it with “JB was Here” on the back window. I’m pretty sure Ashley was a little miffed, but her car was dirty, and it attracts immature boys to write stupid sayings.

Ivette and Lissette stopped by to scope out the house too, which was fun. I got to see Ivette’s new sweet ride (which I’m thinking, if you want to get a new car, just plan to stop by our house). They got Walter a ball, and it was hilarious. He destroyed it in literally 15 minutes. Walter is crazy.

Then we went to a 2 year-old birthday party. Colin is cute, and I’m fairly sure he is going to take after his dad and cousins (that being Justin) and be a sarcastic terror. He’ll do something, give you an evil glare, and then crack up. It’s just a sign. Then someone told me that my baby will look like Colin. Colin’s cute, and I hope that my kid gets red hair, but I would prefer a freak of recessive genes and the kid have dark hair and dark skin, like the rest of my family. Haha.

Which, speaking of, remember those blocks that you would do in middle school to track recessive genes and dominant genes. They actually stopped teaching that in schools because kids were figuring out their mom or dad wasn’t really their mom or dad. Crazy stuff.

Okay, back to word. My seven minute break was long over due, and subsequently, now over.

Fear

There is nothing like taking a warm bath while surfing the Internet. I guess it sounds a little dangerous (think blow dryer in the tub or something) but there is no way that the laptop would have fallen in. I mean, it would have had to come to life and flipped over and in for it to land in the water.

But I digress from a point I have not even put in writing yet.

I’m feeling sorry for myself. It’s a weird feeling because I don’t think I have ever felt it before. I don’t particularly like it, and I dug my own hole, so I should just suck it up, right?

Justin is in NYC, and he hasn’t even been gone 24 hours and miss him. Pretty pathetic, no? To top it off, I just made myself chocolate icing and ate it, and I haven’t done that in YEARS!! (mmm… so good) It’s all just a bad sign! Especially the chocolate icing part.

And to top it off, I hate being at the house all by myself. Like, it sucks. Every sound I hear I think someone is breaking into the house. I can’t wait until we get a mattress for the guest bedroom so I can force someone to spend the night when Justin is off in NYC.

I’m a paranoid individual with an innate fear of being by myself and also the fear of someone possibly talking bad about me. Isn’t that horrible – that has to be the two stupidest combinations of fear ever.

I’m not scared of spiders. Depending on the snake, I’m not that frightened of them. But put me in a room by myself or have two people stand next to me and not be able to hear what they are saying, I’m petrified. Oh, and maybe getting a mosquito bite; I have an allergic reaction to those.

It’s screwed up, is what it is.