Words with Poochpooch85 February 28, 2012

Are you playing Words with Friends? If you’re not, you should be. Why? Because it’s addictive and I don’t want to be the only one with a problem. Just don’t play my sister. Unless you enjoy losing every. single. game.

Let’s start with the fact that my sister is a freak. She spent part of her childhood reading the dictionary. The dictionary. Who does that? I’ll tell you who. People who become Words with Friends beasts later in life. It’s like she knew this game was going to make its way into our lives 15 years down the road and, in her usual ultra-competitive manner, decided the only way to dominate was to keep this information to herself and study the dictionary.

Well played, Poochie. Well played. But let me remind you of this fun fact: Mom and Dad gave me cookies when you went to bed. And that is one triumph you’ll never top.

Jillian: 1, Jenn: 0 February 24, 2012

If you ever find yourself thinking, “Gee whiz, this 30 Day Shred Level 3 sure has gotten easy!”, I have two suggestions. Actually, make it three (really four if you count go back to the 50s where you belong).

 

1. Go back to Level 2.

2. Swap 30 DS for Ripped in 30.

3. Silence that little voice and realize you’ve got a good thing going on.

 

I should have opted for number three. Instead, I went with options one and two. I can barely move. But I do feel a bit stronger. Except when I’m doing something really strenuous like lifting a fork. Then I just feel like I’m dying.

Happy Birthday, Husband!!!!!!!! February 14, 2012

It’s a big day today, kids. Diapered men are running around shooting arrows, and this party animal on the left is turning the big three oh. Obviously this momentous occasion needs to be marked on the Internet or it didn’t happen, so I created a list of 30 things I adore/like/tolerate about the man (in no particular order).

1. His wife. (Have you met her? She’s the bomb dot com.)

2. He remembers places by the restaurants/food.

3. He puts everyone else first.

4. His not so secret anymore love of booty music.

5. He smells good.

6. He refers to summer as “polo season”.

7. He never once tells me I should not get that pair of shoes.

8. He happily (okay, begrudgingly) deals with my super Type A ways.

9. His sense of humor.

10. His disdain for the general public is equal to mine.

11. He calls it our iPad when it’s really his (even though I may or may not be taking over the Pandora app).

12. He’ll eat an entire pan of brownies with me in one sitting and agree to pretend like that didn’t just happen.

13. He lets me be right even when I’m wrong.

14. He’ll ride the teacups at Silver Dollar City with me and call it a day.

15. He made our Skype name jennandjuice.

16. His generally horrible taste in music makes his occasional good taste that much better.

17. His goal in life is to be my sugar daddy.

18. He’s crazy reliable.

19. He starts living room dance parties.

20. He seriously thought through the pros and cons of having a mini rhino.

21. He talks to blueberry muffins like they’re long lost friends.

22. He’s excellent at killing anything that crawls (except children – he’s never tried to kill a child).

23. His affinity for Steve Jobs, Mark Zuckerberg, and elf culture (I may have made the last one up).

24. His all or nothing attitude.

25. He went to man school.

26. He moved halfway across the country for me.

27. He made my life long dream of spinning around while it rained dollar bills come true.

28. He legit thinks he can teach a bulldog to skateboard.

29. He has way more patience than I ever will.

30. He will never give up his dream of owning a rock and roll falcon.

Happy New Year! January 25, 2012

What’s that? That happened 25 days ago? Well, I’ve been busy with my Kindle Fire, people. One does not simply become a Words with Friends, Ninja Jump, and Fruit Ninja master overnight. But in order to make my neglect up to you, I present the following photo essay on how I spent my New Year’s Day night. That’s right. A photo essay. We’re getting fancy up in here.

(The key thing to remember here is that I’m not a dog person. At all. Yet they always try to convert me.)

Jesse and I decided we needed a picture of the two of us since we essentially only have wedding pictures.

We took a few because I’m notorious for having closed eyes. This is the one where Kristin told him to “make a happy face”.

I decided it looked a bit Awkward Family Photoish and further decided that it would be hilarious if we posed Awkward Family Photo style (as you can tell, I excel at keeping a straight face).

Megan’s dog then decided to attack me.

In the face.

Twice.

Luckily, I had my husband there to save me from certain death. Oh, wait. That’s him laughing hysterically instead of protecting me from certain death? Right.

Welcome to 2012: The Year of The Divorce.

Blizzards, Tornadoes, and Weddings Oh My! December 28, 2011

2011 was filled with a lot of crap. Actually, the last 3 years have been filled with a lot of crap. Obviously there’s been some good – like a wedding – but mostly there’s been a lot of crap. And that’s why my resolution for 2012 is for it to not suck.

What? That’s not how resolutions work? Wrong. That’s exactly how resolutions work. Because resolutions are like wishes (which, as we all know, are for punks and losers).

Here’s how the average resolution goes down: You spend the last week of the year making a list of all the changes you want to make in your life – lose weight, eat better, work out more, get a new job, get a pet squirrel, clean out your closet twice a year, cut down on the dumpster eating, volunteer with children, volunteer with old people, volunteer with squirrels, win the lottery, start playing the lottery (your list is lengthy and slightly ridiculous because it’s the last week of the year, and you have nothing better to do than make a slightly ridiculous lengthy list). Then New Year’s Day comes around and you tell yourself you’ll get started on the list tomorrow because after all, today is a holiday! Tomorrow shows up and you’re still hung over (you should probably consider adding “drink less” to your list) so you put the list off until tomorrow. And the next thing you know, it’s the last week of the year, and you haven’t accomplished anything on your list. Why? Because resolutions are like wishes. (Take notes, people.)

And that, kids, is why I prefer New Year Goals. Goals are more attainable. Why? Because you can make a vision board (or wall depending on the lack of construction paper in your life)! An entire board (or wall) filled with pictures and Word Art of the things you want to accomplish in the new year is hard to ignore. You can’t just walk past a picture of you holding a squirrel without thinking just how much better your life would be if you had one of your own to dress like a pirate for Halloween. It keeps you on track so that at the end of the year, you finally have something to show for yourself. Even if it’s only a Photoshopped picture of you holding a pirate squirrel.

7 Ways to Not Ruin Christmas December 13, 2011

I call it like I see it. And that, kids, means that I have to call this Yahoo article about what gifts not to give total crap. Well, almost total crap. Let’s break it down, shall we?

Household Appliances According to Yahoo, no woman (or man) wants to feel like they’re nothing more than the maid service or cook, and therefore, you should never ever under any circumstances give a vacuum or Kitchen Aid mixer as a gift. I disagree (with the never ever gift a vacuum or Kitchen Aid mixer part – I am in no way shape or form saying it’s okay to make anyone feel like the maid or cook). I was ecstatic the year I got a vacuum for my birthday, and I would be elated if I received a Kitchen Aid mixer (as long as it’s red). I would pick that box up, do a happy dance around the living room, declare it the best Christmas ever, make a list of what to make with it, and dispose of my dishes in order to give it a home. But I also realize not everyone would have that reaction. So here’s the bottom line on this category – don’t go for it out of desperation. Go for it because a) they asked for it or b) you know the reaction would match mine.

A Pet Yeahhhhh. . .Yahoo got this one right. Don’t ever get someone a pet for a gift. Ever. And if you do, don’t be surprised if it’s regifted to you in the next 5 minutes.

Jewelry from TV Commercials I half agree with this. Granted most women don’t want a necklace that half the women of the world have and will only remind them of some super cheesy TV spot. But at the same time, choosing something from Etsy can be a crapshoot. Plus, what girl’s going to turn down diamonds? Bottom line – go to Helzberg. Preferably the one in Joplin. And look for the redhead. (Okay, I may not be able to give an entirely unbiased opinion on this one.)

Gift Baskets If you bestow me with a basket of chocolate or wine, I will be your new best friend. If, however, you force a basket full of sausage and cheese on me, I will hate you for life. Choose wisely.

A Sweater No, Yahoo, no. I would much rather get a sweater than a pair of gloves. I’m way more particular about my gloves than I am about my sweaters. I would, however, appreciate a gift receipt with either.

Credit Card Gift Cards Oh, Yahoo. Did you even do your research? Here’s how buying something that costs more than what’s on the card works: you swipe the gift card, then pay the remaining balance with cash, debit card, or credit card (never a check because this is 2011). It’s really not that difficult of a process. I know because I’ve done it. I do, however, agree that it’s a bad gift. But that’s just because well, it’s a gift card. And gift cards say nothing more than, “I didn’t really feel like putting any thought or effort into finding you a gift so here!”

Lingerie The only thing Yahoo got wrong here is “the gift is as much for you as it is for her”. No. This gift is all for you. No respectable woman wants lingerie for Christmas.

So there you have it, kids. 7 gifts that won’t ruin Christmas despite what Yahoo tells you. Well, actually 5 gifts. I stand behind them on the puppy and lingerie. And no, puppy  lingerie is not an acceptable option either.

He Ate My Heart (and by heart, I mean crescent roll) December 8, 2011

I’m probably  not the easiest person to live with. But I imagine most of us Type As really aren’t. I like things how I like things, and so help the person who doesn’t understand. So it’s understandable that I told Jesse he ruined Christmas when he peeled the backs off the tags and bows while wrapping my gifts “so I could shake them” (that man knows me so well). It’s also understandable that, after 4 years of dealing with me, he just rolled his eyes and left me on the couch to sulk for five minutes.

What’s not so understandable, however, is how he thought it would ever be acceptable to take the last two crescent rolls for lunch. That’s right. There were two left, and he took both of them. Never mind that there were at least two bowls of soup left (for which the crescent rolls were made), and I would obviously be having a bowl for my lunch. Maybe it was retaliation for telling him he ruined Christmas, but I think the root of this issue lies in the fact that I have married an inconsiderate food whore.

What’s that? You think that’s a little harsh? I suppose you’re right. Or you would be if this was an isolated incident. But it’s not. Sun Chips, graham crackers, rice cakes, cereal, chocolate – anything that I put in the pantry is half, if not all the way, gone by the time I get to it. And what response do I get from the culprit? “Heh heh sucka!” (Still feel sorry for him? Well then I feel sorry for you. Because clearly you have deep moral character flaws and are most likely a Cubs fan in love with Brett Favre.)

Now, I never wanted to be one of those wives, but I really don’t see how I have any other choice at this point – I’m going to have to hide the good stuff. That’s right. The chocolate, the rice cakes, the chocolate, the Sun Chips, the chocolate. . .it’s all going to find a new home in a yet to be determined hidey hole. It’s the only way to keep my strength up to shake those Christmas presents.

Turkey, Then Cookies November 9, 2011

I’ve never set foot in it or been to their website, but Nordstrom’s is my new favorite store. Why? Because they refuse to acknowledge Christmas until AFTER Thanksgiving (full story here). My barrel of love for them overfloweth.

I’ve ranted about Thanksgiving (my favorite holiday in the history of holidays) being overshadowed every year, so I’ll spare you another one this year and instead, leave you with one more piece of artwork. (I also encourage you all to become filthy rich and frequent Nordstrom’s. Maybe even shop there exclusively.)

Talk It Out October 25, 2011

Egads it’s been awhile since I’ve updated this thing. In my defense, I’ve been busy with a wedding and whatnot (and in case you were wondering – I’m not having wedding withdrawals so much as I’m basking in the sweet, sweet relief of all that shemoligan being OVER). But now that it’s been almost 2 months (whaaaaaaaaa???), I can no longer use that as an excuse. So I’ve decided that today – and today only – I will give you an extra special glimpse into my life. Think of it as my way of saying, “I’m sorry for the neglect. Please don’t leave me.”

I’ll start with this statement: Jesse worries about me. A lot. Mostly my sanity. Because apparently the conversations that happen in my life aren’t exactly considered “normal human interaction”.

Exhibit A: Text from my sister

Her:

RAPTOR BABY!!!!

Me: What the crap???

Her: Hahah I google imaged baby raptor and that came up!

Me: It’s rather disturbing. Why is it all bloody?

Her: It’s called embryonic fluid. You had it on you too when you emerged.

Me: I know, but it’s sick nasty and not meant to be seen by humans.

Her: Well now you’ve seen it and your eyes are tainted.

Me: You’ve ruined me.

Exhibit B: Text from my mom

Her: Papa and I saw this ghoul on a cow yesterday.

Me: I never get to see anything good. L

Exhibit C: Text from the best friend

Me: Watching Real Housewives and eating snickerdoodles while my uterus tries to escape. Don’t judge me.

Her: No judgement. What rh is it? I just got done watching My Little Pony while “playing” with 2 of my little ponies I found. Don’t judge me. I like braiding their hair.

So as you can see, he may or may not be warranted in his worrying. BUT allow me to introduce. . . .

Exhibit D: Text from the husband

Him: If you’re sick, then I’m going to kick your butt for being “Little Miss I’m Stronger Than Death”.

Me: Will you make me a sash that says that?
Him: Yes.

Me: Yessssssssssss! Ima do my hair in an updo to accept it.

Him: A poofy updo? I’ll have a parade in your honor. You’ll get to ride in a car-truck.

Me: Best. Day. Ever.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why he no longer gets to worry about me. He may, however, worry about himself since it would appear that I have, in fact, brought him down with me.

Donut Throwdown August 9, 2011

How do you know you’re only 27 days away from the wedding? When you fight about donuts. Literally donuts. I mean, I know Jesse and I aren’t exactly what you’d call normal, but the other night was a new low (and I mean loooooooooooow).

We were eating dinner and talking about whatever it is we talk about when he broke out the, “I still want to know what a daylight donut is” line. Again. For the millionth time.

Jesse: I still want to know what a daylight donut is.

Me: OMG who cares?!?!? Freaking let it go already!

Jesse: No, seriously. What’s a daylight donut? We have Dude’s Daylight Donuts, Smiley’s Daylight Donuts. All the donut places here are daylight donuts.

Me: It’s not Smiley’s Daylight Donuts. It’s just Smiley’s Donuts.

Jesse: No, I saw the sign. It’s Smiley’s Daylight Donuts.

Me: I saw the production order and listened to the spots – it’s just Smiley’s Donuts.

Jesse: No, it’s Smiley’s Daylight Donuts. And it’s a Daylight Donuts over by Gusano’s. What the hell’s a daylight donut?!?!?

Me: It’s probably just a chain like Dunkin’ Donuts but they let you put your name in front of it! Let it go! Move on with your life! I don’t want to hear about the freaking daylight donuts anymore!

At this point, he stood up and essentially threw a plate on the counter. There may or may not have been more yelling followed by me storming out of the kitchen and into the living room. (Which would be a lot more effective if you couldn’t see the living room from the kitchen. Clearly we need a bigger dwelling place.)

There was about 10 to 15 minutes of silence as I sat on the couch and fumed while he did the dishes and fumed. Then he came over to the couch, gave me a hug, and we both apologized. Of course, a fight isn’t truly over until you dance in the living room to your first dance song and Let Me Ride That Donkey by 69 Boyz. I really hope our walls aren’t thin.

(And because I know the curiosity is killing you, Daylight Donuts is a franchise based out of Tulsa. It was started by the Day family who developed a lighter donut recipe – hence the name. Also, I was right – it’s just Smiley’s Donuts.)