A Perfect Union

(Photo taken just moments before AJ ripped all the

tomatoes out of his new sandwich bride and devoured her whole.)

Life In the Living Room

I’m coming off a Three Birthday Party Weekend. The parties were for a niece, a nephew and an early b-day party for my huzzbund. It was fun, but man, I got no rest. Anyway, in addition to all the partying, we went to AJ’s company picnic on Saturday. His company was not stingy or cheap with the door prizes. They were giving away TVs and video games and large amount gift certificates and such. We won a portable DVD player. Since we already had one at home, we decided to take it back to Wal-Mart and exchange it for an X-Box. We had enough left over in the exchange to get a couple games. So, we got Doom3 and a cheap casino game.

When we got home, we were checking out our new stuff, and Heather (heretofore known to this blog as "The Champion Teenager") loaded the casino game and started playing Texas Hold ‘Em - a card game with which she’s pretty familiar. Anyway, her dad was sitting back, giving her some advice as she played. So – being the ultra-wise and caring step-mom that I am – I decided to give her some poker advice of my own.

"Heather," I said using my wisest, most important-sounding voice, "you have to know when to hold ‘em."

"I know," she said as she continued to stare at the TV screen.

"And you have to know when to fold ‘em."

"I know.... I’ve played this before," she said.

"You have to know when to walk away..."

"I KNOW! I played this on the Fourth of July!" she said, her irritation heightening.

"Know when to run...."

"Have you ever even played this before? I’ve played this! I know what I’m doing!"

"And remember that you never count your money while you’re sittin’ at the table."

"JENNIFER! I KNOW HOW TO PLAY CARDS!"

"There’s time enough for countin’ when the dealin’s done."

"DAD! Will you tell her I know how to play this? I KNOW! I don’t need your help!"


Unnecessary, Awkward Way to End This Blog: A full-grown man at my work used the term "Gosh Dawgs!" in a non-sarcastic manner today.

Buy One Used Spatula, Get an Unmatched Sock Free!

I think the only way out of our current mess is to have a garage sale. Our 1,300 square foot house is packed to its creaky gills with "stuff." Much of this stuff we do not need. Getting married brought us a bunch of shiny new household items, which is awesome. But we were forced to cram things into already-cram-packed nooks and crannies, and this is beginning to get on my nerves.

For instance, in order to get out a particular pan, you have to first dig out four or five pans and pots on top of it, get the desired pan, then put everything else back in the cabinet. After washing said pan, you have to pull everything out of the cabinet again to put the pan back in its proper spot. Most of our kitchen cabinets must be arranged "just so" in order to hold all the stuff we need to stick in there.

Other items we need to weed out include toys, blankets, books, clothes from my hippie phase, shoes, old make-up, and - though it will be painful - CDs. I used to take great pride in my massive CD collection, and I still do to an extent. But I have to finally face the fact that I rarely even look at those discs, let alone play them anymore. It’s time to load up the unessential and drive to the used CD shop to try and get rid of them. I think that makes more sense than selling them on Ebay. Shipping costs just don’t seem to be worth it when it comes to CDs. I’ve already begun hocking my old textbooks online to small success.

Anyway, I guess it’s pretty boring to write a blog about your plans to clean out your house via a garage sale. But HERE I AM DOING IT.

Onto something else... Last night in bed AJ suddenly shouts "Marcus!" in a frightened voice. Then he rolls over and continues sleeping silently. My husband talks/shouts/laughs/walks in his sleep all the time, but what’s funny about this particular episode is that the only Marcus we know is a 14-year-old blonde kid who lives up the street from us. Sometimes, in my sleepy state, I imagine the dreams behind these nighttime outcries from AJ. This often leads to weird dreams of my own. The one that played in my head last night involved AJ, Marcus, an empty Vienna sausage can, and some dud fireworks. Everyone was angry.

Well, that’s about all I have for today. Internet, I leave you with this photo of my brother Stevie. Enjoy.

Brief, Unnecessary

I still haven't gotten that tattoo, but I was in a tattoo parlor last week to see my step-daughter get her tongue pierced. I thought the person doing the piercing would be all ceremonious and dramatic about puncturing a person’s tongue. But he simply stretched out her tongue with some forceps and poked a sharp piece of stainless steel through the middle of it. No blood, but lots of saliva.

In unrelated news, one of my bosses playfully called another boss a "lyin’ turd" today. Then, after laughing heartily, he hacked up a bunch of phlegm and walked outside to spit in the dirt.

Life really is like a box of chocolates!

Enrollment In the Air

People such as Kalen will think I am insane, but I really miss school. Well, that’s not totally accurate. I guess what I’m actually missing right at the moment is the "start" of school. The newness and anticipation. I’m feeling it around me right now because my Champion Teenager is about to begin ninth grade next Monday. She’s in that space of time where the mind and body and free spirit are all pulling in different directions: "It’s still summertime... so it’s okay if I stay up until 6:00 am watching this Sabrina marathon." However, "I have to start all that running for basketball pre-season in, like, seven days... I better begin adjusting myself." But then again, "It’s my last chance to be this lazy for a while..."

It’s that mix of excitement and partial dread that I miss. This will be the first fall in about seven years that I have not gone back to school. (Yes, as a matter of fact I was a 26-year-old Bachelor’s Degree recipient, thank you very much.)

But I can take comfort in the fact that, in reality, I actually have at least four more years of vicarious school life ahead of me. And plenty of homework that the Champion Teen will bring home and wait until midnight the night before it’s due to pull out of her bag and begin working on. This proved to be pretty good exercise for my supernerd senses last year. Part of what bonded me to my step-daughter in our early days of being in each other’s lives was the day-to-day functioning of her schooling. The early morning drives, the late night English worksheets, the recounting of the never-ending-and-often-vicious circle that is junior high gossip. Good times.

I know The Champion Teen is looking forward to being in the mix of her friends on a daily basis again. And I’m looking forward to partially experiencing her new beginning and getting back into the groove again. It’s no secret that I shine when I have a purpose, and I really feel like I make solid contributions when it comes to The Champ’s schooling. All this nebulous summertime fun is great and enjoyable. But I’m ready for the structured halls of Pryor Junior High to give us back our deadlines and schedules.

So, in a sense, I guess I am going back to school this fall. My inner nerd feels better knowing this.

Blue Monday

5:30 will never be the same.

(I'm extremely sad about this.)