Monthly Archives: February 2010

Feb28

A Scarlet Letter

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A Scarlet Letter

Joey and I regularly have lighthearted conversations about infertility.  Because the other option is no fun at all, and we’re tired of going there.

On the way in to church this morning, I said to Joey, “I wish I just had a big red ‘I’ on all my clothes so everyone who saw me would automatically know what’s wrong with me.  Then we could avoid uncomfortable conversations.”

Joey kind of looked at me like I had sprouted a third head.

“It would make things easier.  More streamlined,” I said.  (I hate making people uncomfortable when they realize that they’ve innocently said something like “OH?  You’re not feeling well?  COULD YOU BE PREGNANT?” that turned out to be completely insensitive.)  ”Kind of like Hester Prynne in The Scarlet Letter,” I clarified.

“But…but that was a punishment for her to wear that letter,” Joey said.

“Well, it’s kind of a punishment for ME,” I replied.

“NONONONO, but she did something really bad and then that’s why…”

“But my insides are behaving badly,” I shot back.  ”If they’d behave properly then we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“They’re just taking after you,” Joey mumbled.

I believe Joey won this round.

Feb27

Yes, we went to Medieval Times

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Yes, we went to Medieval Times

A couple weeks ago I was riding the elevator and noticed on the elevator TV (what, your elevator doesn’t have a TV?) that they were offering  Medieval Times tickets 50% off.

And Joey’s birthday was coming up.

Well, my Seminary Wife brain clicked on and thought, Well….we’ve never done THAT before….might as well give it a shot.

So I bought tickets.

Not for the night of Joey’s actual birthday, which was Thursday of last week, but for last night.

Traffic was an absolute nightmare, so we took a different route and made it there in fairly record time, which pleased me because usually when we take alternate routes it winds up taking us longer.  But we got lucky this time, probably because it was Joey’s birthday.  Or maybe just because our number was up.

We arrived early, like the ticket told us to do, and fortunately we had brought my iTouch because we wound up having to stand in this large entrance hall with about 1,000 middle schoolers for about an hour and a half.  And I like middle schoolers considerably more than most of you (because I’m almost a youth pastor’s wife) but nearly 1,000 of them in close quarters for an hour and a half with nothing to do is enough to make me want to jump in front of a Mack truck on the Stemmons Freeway.

Joey noticed me getting that wild I AM FEELING CLAUSTROPHOBIC look in my eyes and he knew that it was time to find a different place to stand.  So he whisked me away to a less cramped part of the waiting area and we sat on a bench that me miraculously found and played Monopoly on my iTouch for the next 45 minutes.

It was a long wait.

Also it was 8:00 and I hadn’t had dinner, and that makes everything worse.

Finally, it was time to enter and we poured into the arena with all the middle schoolers. (I do not understand how it was basically  us and I AM NOT JOKING about the 1,000 middle schoolers.  We counted.)

And those discount tickets I got?

Were in the worst possible seats in the entire place.  Like when I say worst possible seats I mean that we were in the back corner with 1/4 of the arena blocked by the place where the king and queen sit, and my chair was an inch from falling down some stairs if I made one wrong move.  (Which, incidentally, I did and then I fell down the stairs.)

But we’re used to our cheap tickets getting us lousy seats, so we sat up there and giggled like middle schoolers (when in Rome…) and wiggled while we waited for our food.

Our waiter came and filled our plastic cups up with Pepsi, and Joey looked at me guzzling mine with wide terrified eyes as he sneaked a peak at his watch.  It was 8:30, and we all know how Pepsi trips me out on caffeine.  But I told him that I hadn’t had Pepsi in two weeks, so I would surely be fine.

Whatever.

Soon our soup and garlic bread came and as we sat waiting for the waiter to FINALLY get to us already.  He was just about to serve the person next to us (who was actually not a middle schooler) when he said, “Would you like some garlic bread sir?”

Then there was this awkward pause, and the server finally realized his mistake and said, “I’m sorry, MA’AM, would you like some garlic bread?  Sorry, I just….the eye patch….one of the guys downstairs has an eye patch.”

The lady next to us was indeed wearing an eye patch, which I had been trying not to stair at.  She continued to stare, one-eyed, at the server, and he continued to ramble.

“The guy downstairs is a Knight and he was sword fighting and a piece of Titanium came flying off one of the swords and got stuck in his eye.”  Then he paused long enough for the eye-patched lady to speak.

“Well, I had a brain anuerism and now I can’t see out of this eye,” she said, obviously peeved.

“Oh.  Well, do you want some garlic bread?” Asked the poor server again as he mentally tried to calculate how much THAT mistake was going to cost him on his tip.

When he finally got around to serving us we were so hungry that we totally inhaled our garlic bread and soup, and then we sat in our super bad nosebleed seats and tried to calculate how much money Medieval Times was pulling down every time they opened their doors.  Joey figured it out, after some quick calculations, and we were like, woaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.

And then, the jousting began.

We screamed just like the middle schoolers until the Pepsi wore off and we started getting tired and feeling our age.  And as soon as it was done?  We hit the road, Jack and booked it home before all the middle schoolers made their way to the doors.

“Want to stay up and watch the Olympics that we recorded?” Joey asked as we sped up Central Expressway.

“Pssssh, YES,” I squealed.

And we stayed up until 12:15 screaming at our TV while we watched short track and bobsled crashes.

Our poor neighbors.  They must really worry about us these days what with all this yelling at the TV that we do, and of course we do it about 2 feet from the only wall we share in our entire apartment.

Speaking of, it’s almost Olympics time.

And we know where my priorities are.

So whatever I was going to type in this post is now irrelevant because I have only two more days to bask in Olympic glory until have to wait 2 1/2 more years to do it all over again.

Feb27

Best Friends

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Best Friends

Almost every night before we fall asleep, I whisper to Joey, “Are we best friends?”

He always whispers back, “Of course we are!”

And I reply (in a stage whisper, of course), “YESSSS!”

So I was thinking about that while we were trying to fight through the insane shoppers at Central Market today (aside: if you have made the mistake of going to Central Market on a Saturday you know what I’m talking about; usually we are smart and go on Friday but we were otherwise engaged last night, and more on that later.)  Shopping at Central Market on a Saturday is kind of like riding a mechanical bull that turns into a live raging monster halfway through before your turn runs out, and bucks you so bad you get whiplash before you even realize what happened.

Or it could also be compared to one of those schools of fish like is on the Freshwater Planet Earth DVD; everyone moves in the same direction at a constant speed, and if you forgot the red onion just ten feet back there?  TOO BAD SO SAD, HONEY.  The fish are traveling this way so move or be ran over.

It was in this environment that I was pondering the best friend/spouse aspect of Joey’s and my relationship this morning.  Right by the strawberries.  I made the mistake of thinking, and it caused me to pause the jam up the flow of traffic.  So when I finally found Joey again (thank heaven for cell phones) he was all, where have you been anyway?

“You know how we’re best friends?” I asked him.

“Yeah….” he said, absently, because he was trying not to get run over by a stray cart.

“Well, I think if you’re married to your best friend, it teaches you how to be better friends with other people.”

Joey whipped his head around and said, “Why are you thinking about this in the grocery store?”

“I can’t control how my brain thinks and it thought about it here.”  (Which is totally true, I tend to go from pondering profound things to destroying all the aisles in Home Depot in my imagination and then telling Joey how it looked when everything came falling down.  It is amazing to have my brain.)

I went on to explain to Joey, in between dodging crazed grocery shoppers, that being married and being best friends is the best thing that has ever happened to me because it has taught me that just because I don’t like someone once in awhile doesn’t mean our relationship has to be over.  It can grow on a much deeper level once we work through our differences.

So then Joey looked at me sideways and asked, “Um, is this your way of telling me you’re mad at me or something?”

“Pssssh, NO,” I scoffed.  ”I was just thinking about it.”  (Like I said, I have a crazy brain.  I cannot control or comprehend it.)

Being best friends is also the most important thing about being married, I think.  Because it forces us to deal with stuff when it comes up.  It makes us iron out the winkles.  We have to go deeper.

I love Joey lots.  And since he’s my best friend?  I even like to drive him crazy once in awhile.  That’s why, when we got to Target, I made my Vibrams slap as loudly as they could against the ground while we walked, just to see if he would tell me to cut it out because I was making such an annoying noise.

It didn’t work, which was so much lamer than I was expecting it would be.

I had to keep it up for so long that my feet started to hurt from stomping, and finally Joey looked down at me and asked, “Are your feet hurting yet?”

So I wilted and said, “Yes.  I was trying to drive you crazy.”

“I’m too smart for you,” was all he said, and he said it so smugly, too.  ”I knew you were trying that but I didn’t want to give you the victory.”

(He is too smart for me.  Which…which makes me wonder why in the world he married me after all.)

I really love being best friends with my Joey.

He makes going grocery shopping one of the most fun things we do every week.

Feb27

An Olympic-Sized Mess

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An Olympic-Sized Mess

I’m not the most fastidious housekeeper, but I do like a tidy home.  And combine Olympics with being sickly for the last couple weeks, and what you have in my house last night?  AN OLYMPIC SIZED MESS.

Like, we didn’t even put our clothes away before getting into bed.

We piled them on the chair in our bedroom.

I KNOW, RIGHT?

This morning, it took an hour to straighten up the house enough to even be able to clean it.  And I’m sitting here now with the windows open (oh Texas, how I love you…) and breathing the fresh lemon-scented goodness that comes with dust removal and thinking that yes, this could very well be a good weekend now.

Because my house is very nearly clean.

All that there is left to do is mop the floors and grocery shop and then BAM, we’re done.  Just in time to collapse on the couch and watch Olympics for the last 24 hours that they’re on.

By the last few days of Olympics, I have a love-hate relationship with them.  Because they totally destroy my house, but what other nationally televised even makes me cry over the profile videos, or scream “FALL, FALL, FALL”  to the opposing teams at my TV (or whatever semblance of TV we have rigged up) EVERY DAY FOR TWO WEEKS.

It’s a beautiful thing.

Two and a half more years until I get to do it all over again.

(Want to know something?  If I ever got to go to the Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics, I think I would cry for about…a  year straight.  Six months before and six months after, just from sheer excitement.)

Feb24

9:22

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9:22

OK, what with being sick and whatever this week, I haven’t been able to stay up past 9:00.  This is so annoying because I feel like I’m prematurely aging.  OH, not to mention that I am MISSING OLYMPIC COVERAGE.

But because of the EyeTv thing we have that turns my laptop into a portal into the Outside World we are able to hit record on the broadcast and pick it up the next day.  Which is exactly what we did with figure skating last night.  And if there was anything exciting on tonight, it’s what we would have done tonight too.

I can feel my eyes drooping closed as I type this.

Really the only reason I’m doing this is because it has been a blue moon since I posted on this poor blog.

Yes, I still exist.

My energy level does not.

So that is why I’m all packing it up and heading to bed now.

I think I may already be asleep.

Feb21

Woozy

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Woozy

First of all, let me try to find this blog under the thick layer of dust that has collected on top of it.

……………..

HELLO, INTERNET!

Let me just begin by saying there is really one word to sum up my little hiatus: Olympics.  And secondly, I have a major head cold.  So that’s where I done gone off to.  Every spare moment I have I’m watching the Olympics and blowing my nose and throwing the tissues on the floor.

(Not really, I’m throwing them in the trash can.)

I’ve spent nearly the last three days kind of lazing around in this strange Day/NyQuil haze, which makes me not a safe person to be around, trying to remember what I said I wouldn’t forget.  Poor Joey, we have the same conversation about 12 times a day when I take NyQuil, since it takes about 36 hours for it to get out of my system after I take it.

He is a longsuffering and noble husband.

Anyway, we were sitting around today when I was all, Joey I feel woozy.

And then I began a long diatribe about how the word “woozy” is really an onamotapeia because just saying “woozy” makes me feel woozy.

It’s a true story.  Say the word “woozy”.  Come on, say it.

Didn’t you feel kind of weird afterwards?

That’s what I’m talkin’ about.

Feb16

INTRUSIVE, yes?

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INTRUSIVE, yes?

Last weekend, I was talking to Sister.  And she said, “Make a poll on your blog.  Make it about whether or not people put their toilet paper rolls over or under.”

And I was all, but Cottonelle already has one of those.

And she goes, but I don’t care about those people, I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT THE PEOPLE WHO READ YOUR BLOG.

So here’s one for Sister.

Feb14

I WON!!!

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I WON!!!

OK, let’s just get something straight here: I never win ANYTHING.  Not even three legged race contests.  I just don’t have the winning gene, I guess, and I’ve learned to live with it.

Back in December, Joey got an email from Zamas, the resort we stayed at in Mexico, saying they were having a Most Romantic Experience contest, and they were accepting 500 word essays.  The deadline was Jan 31st, and they were posting the winners on Valentines Day.

That’s today, y’all.

Joey told me about the contest and I figured I could write romantical cheese as well as the next person, so I whipped something out and emailed it to him for his reaction.  He said it was OK, but it needed a little bit of ironing out.  And then I forgot about it.

On January 31st, Joey and I went on a walk and he asked me if I’d submitted my piece to Zamas.  I smacked my head with my hand and said, “OH NO!  I forgot totally!”  As soon as we got home I edited the piece (Joey was right, it completely stunk and needed a lot of editing) and added some extra cheese.  Then I sent it off to Zamas before I could chicken out.

Then I forgot about it again.

This afternoon as I was laying on the futon watching Olympics and moaning (I seem to have contracted digestive duress) Joey sneaked off to the kitchen table where I could tell he was on the interwebs.  Then I heard a gasp.  Then he said, “Um, you need to come over here.  RIGHT NOW.”

I slumped myself over to the dining room and noticed he had Zamas’ fan page on Facebook pulled up.  Then he said, “You won!”

And suddenly I began jumping up and down despite the fact that I was feeling ENTIRELY DREADFUL, and I screamed “I won, I won, I won, I won!” over and over again, until Joey was probably regretting ever telling me to enter the contest in the first place.

Our prize?  A three nights stay between June – Sept this summer.  I’m wanting to go in September because it’s turtle egg hatching season.  I want to see a baby turtle in the worst way.  Who even cares if it’s in hurricane season?

SO NOW WE ARE GOING BACK TO MEXICO!

We already planned a tentative itinerary.

Feb14

My Valentine

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My Valentine

For Valentines day this year, Joey gave me the sweetest gift.  It was a little garden of Gerbera daisies…

potted in little All-Clad measuring cups…

…with leaves made out of green construction paper, taped to little All-Clad measuring spoons.

I mean, HOW CUTE IS THAT?!

I am thankful for my Joey, thankful that on the least-romantic day of the year, he’s creative enough to come up with something like a flower garden made from a new, gleaming set of measuring cups and spoons.  (I keep sending my plastic ones through the garbage disposal.  It’s truly unfortunate.)

I’m thankful for Joey for many, many reasons.  Especially after this past year, of all years.

  • He has helped lift me out of a hospital bed…and thrown me into the ocean on a deserted beach.
  • He has sat helplessly in waiting rooms and waited to find out how medical procedures have gone…and he’s learned how to give a fairly stress-free shot.
  • He has encouraged me to stick to the plan, to hang in there…and to be spontaneous.
  • He has cried with me…and he has laughed with me until we cried.
  • He has reminded me to slow down…and he has encouraged me to concentrate the energy I have on doing what I love.
  • He has killed cockroaches while I stood there, uselessly screaming…and he has tried to dig crabs out of the sand with me so we could see what they looked like.

He always tells me he loves me.

No matter what.

I love you, Joey!  Happy Valentines day.

Feb12

THE OLYMPICS BEGIN SOON

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THE OLYMPICS BEGIN SOON

I’m completely rabid about the Olympics.  If you’ve been around this blog for any amount of time, you already know that.  Yeah yeah yeah.  Anyway, I’ve been looking forward to this for, like, two years.  (Since the Closing Ceremonies in Beijing, to be exact.)

Our Canadian Bacon pizza is on its way (Vancouver is in Canada, so we wanted to represent) and our house is nearly cleaned.  This is important because once the house is clean I can relax.

In addition to myself, Sister and Brother are also jibbly jibbly jibbly about Olympics as well.

We’ve all three been incandescent for the last month, and growing stronger as today got closer.  And today?  We were practically buzzing in our light sockets, about to bust a filament.  Our Google statuses said things like “OLYMPICS!” and OLYMPICS IN FOUR HOURS!” and stuff like that.

The Kid?  He doesn’t even care about the Olympics.  We can’t figure out why, but I think it has something to do that by the time The Kid got to be old enough to care, watching TV wasn’t as much of an event as it was when I was younger.  (Basically Mom would let us watch as much Olympics as we wanted.  But woe unto us if we wanted to watch TV during the day or in the evening at any other time of the year.)

I decided to poll the sibs to see what their excitement level was for the Olympics this evening.  Here are there responses.  (And why don’t you guess, based upon the responses, which of my siblings is an engineer?)

The Brother

Olympics are exciting because:

a. They play the Olympics theme by John Williams who also wrote all kinds of great music

b. Bob Costas does announcing and stuff

c. There are usually fireworks

d. There are millions of people from lots of different countries and it’s fun to see how they dress up in the Opening Ceremonies.

e. There are thrilling activities at all times of the day, most of which Bob Costas announces for, and the Olympic theme plays every time we go to commercial break

f. There are fast exciting events, and artistic and lovely events

g. It’s always exciting to see how they light the torch each year and see all the choreographed dances during the opening ceremonies

h. Each country that hosts puts their own special spin on the events so it’s never quite the same, but always refreshingly familiar

Sister

I have been looking forward to the Winter Olympics for 4 years. They are, by far, my favorite. I like pretty much all the sports, but I especially love anything to do with skating. When TV switched to digital last year, I knew we were going to have to get a digital receiver for the sole reason of watching the Olympics. Because other than that, we’re not really TV people. IMAGINE MY DISMAY when I realized NBC would not come in on our TV!!  In an act of sheer desperation, we got basic cable. Just so I could watch the Olympics. Oh the things we do for the things we love!

The Kid

I guess I don’t really care too much about the Olympics.  They’re OK I guess, but I don’t like them nearly as much as that Jenna girl does.  She’s weird anyways though.