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I don’t believe in cold vacations.

13 Jan

Call me ignorant. Call me uneducated. Call me hard-headed. Call me what is that crazy-ass woman screaming about and who is Scott?

In four weeks, my crazy will be showing on top of a mountain.

Scott is taking me skiing in Keystone, Colorado. He will push me down a mountain and expect me to lean forward like I’m on some sort of suicide mission.

Scott’s current annoyance level with me is at a “fine, screw it. I’ll hire private lessons for you on the first day. I’m not dealing with this.”

Whatever level that is.

We took the family to Dick’s Sporting Goods to get snow skiing gear.

Kate: I know how to spell dicks! D-I-C-K-S! Dicks.

Emma: Kate, you’re just copying the Dicks sign.

It was Scott’s last laugh. I don’t know, the words just came spewing out of my mouth and now Scott isn’t talking to me:

 

Scott, I’ve never seen a mountain. I went to Denver once but it was cloudy.

I told you. I don’t believe in cold vacations. All of my beliefs are traced back to my parents. Don’t blame me on how I was raised.

My mom is Mexican.

I was raised normal, Scott.

What happens if I don’t want to get off the ski lift? Can I ride back down?

What happens if I don’t want to go down once I’m pushed off the lift?

Can I ride on someone’s back and close my eyes?

Can you pull me on a sled and close my eyes?

All I’m saying is I’d much rather be three quarters naked on a boat.

Yeah, well fighting a 200 pound fish is a workout too.

How many layers? How is this even considered a vacation?

I swear, if you take off with your friends and leave me on top of a mountain by myself, I will click off those skis and walk sideways down the mountain. I will find you and strangle you.

Given the choice of looking crazy or rolling down a mountain in a ball of snow, I’ll take crazy.

Oh, I’m only shopping for Burton apparel.

Yes, I plan on telling people that my last name is Burton so yes, people will know.

How is that embarrassing?

Hell no, I won’t try snowboarding. I’d rather walk.

What are the ski stick thingies for? Is it a brake?

Why would I need zippers on my pockets? Oh, so you take your phone with you when you ski? Would it be possible to hold a phone out in front of you while you’re skiing? Or is that too much balancing?

I went skiing once in 5th grade on a hill in Kansas or maybe Missouri. It’s called Snow Creek. My friend’s parents took me with their family. All I remember is cold and where’s my mommy.

Is Keystone like the cheap-y economy style skiing resort? You know, like the beer?

How am I acting like a child? Wait, worse than a child? Oh, because I’m arguing about scenarios that haven’t even happened. That makes complete sense.

Avalanches are a real thing.

Frost bite is a real thing.

Mountain lions are a real thing.

Me getting my tongue stuck on the bar of a lift is a real thing.

Uh, can totally see you sneaking off the side of the mountain to go shoot a mountain lion.

I’m not dumb. I’m just realistic.

Well, maybe I can hang with you and your friends on the double black diamond. You don’t know. Maybe I’ll be a natural.

Don’t tell me I’m not allowed on the double black diamond, Scott. You’re not my father.

Then send a helicopter.

Yes, I’ve seen pictures of people having fun skiing. And I feel sorry for them. They look cold.

How is preferring warm weather being judgy?

So it’s going to be the exact same temperature as here? Great.

No, I didn’t bring a coat. I don’t need it running in and out of a store.

So you just go up and down a mountain, like, all day? How about just once then we go see the town?

Yes, I still want to go.

Why would you cancel it?

I promise, Scott. I won’t be the crazy wife.

 

Have you ever been snow skiing? Do you prefer skiing over a warm vacation? Has your spouse quit talking to you because of your hard-headedness? Am I the only person to never see a mountain? Any advice is welcome! I’ll listen to you, just not Scott.

snow

Uptown funk you up.

5 Jan

No – Julie funk you up, APPLE.

I live a hard life.

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All I want is Bruno Mars on my iPhone’s song list.

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 And to dance like him. I have that same hat somewhere.

I am unable to download songs to my iPhone. Even worse, my songs are disappearing. My beautiful, finely tuned playlists are disappearing.

I can’t live a life like that.

I have been charged for Uptown Funk by Mark Ronson feat. Bruno Mars oh I don’t know, 20 times.

Are you sure you want to purchase this? You already purchased this item.

HELL YES, iSURE.

I know those Apple techs browse pictures. I would. Especially after watching a mom and her two daughters walk in the Apple store with fedoras on. Apple doesn’t have a policy against flinging arms while watching Uptown Funk on an iPad’s YouTube app.

Go ahead – browse, Apple techs. But I won’t leave until I get Bruno Mars.

 

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It was for ALS awareness. We’re saving lives.

 

 

Our neighbors love me.

Our neighbors love me.

 

I only have one at my house.

I only have one at my house.

 

And it's not this one.

And it’s not this one.

 

I love bonerfish.

I love bonerfish.

 

Yep. This song has disappeared too, APPLE.

Billie Jean is deleted too, Apple.

 

From Africa to America - where KSU beat OU.

From Africa to America – where KSU trumps OU.

 

My friends are unphased by my "cleaning up a murder" request. I'll murder for Bruno Mars.

Un-phased by my “cleaning up a murder” request. I’ll murder for Bruno Mars.

 

Murder and EAT.

I will murder and eat you to the skeleton. OR APPLE CORE.

 

Um.

Ummm.

 

Bruno Mars has hairy legs.

Bruno Mars has hairy legs and clearly – not lazy.

 

I talk to cats.

I’m crazy and I talk to cats. FIX IT, APPLE.

 

I don't know where she gets her rage from.

I don’t know where she gets her rage from. Probably her mother.

 

 

We left it all on the iPads, Apple.

We left this picture all on the iPads, Apple Store. Thanks for browsing.

 

 

Have you heard the song Uptown Funk? Do you like it? You’re a liar if you don’t. It’s like a new Michael Jackson has graced us with his presence. 

uptown

It was from Africa.

29 Dec
  • Crown Royal Apple whiskey.
  • Absolut Vodka and Bloody Mary mix.
  • A Starbucks giftcard.
  • An Olive Garden giftcard with toilet seat covers in a mug.
  • A hard hat that holds two beers.
  • A Zulu Mcedo – in english: a penis tip cover. 

It was from Africa.

The White Elephants were good to Scott and me this 2014 Christmas season. I’m going to call that last one our African Elephant.

A Zulu Mcedo: Woven with grass and banana leaves, worn by Zulumen as protection under traditional skin clothing.

A Zulu Mcedo: Woven with grass and banana leaves, worn by Zulumen as protection under traditional skin clothing.

It’s a penis tip cover to prevent chaffing in African wear.

Sometimes the small packages are not gift cards. Sometimes the small packages are made for small packages. If you touch the small package and your friends fall over in hysterics while trying to sputter out, “it was from Africa…” 

Drop it. Tell them you forgot the rules. Do not pick small packages from Africa.

I mean, Scott is white. But he’s not that white. This thing fits on my finger tip.

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I swear on the Holy Bible that is my finger tip.

I could end this blog post right here. It would be known as the blog post that proves our friends’ check-on bags from South Africa trumps any Amazon white elephant purchase. No ebola here! Just a penis tip cover. Nothing for kids to see.

Oh, the kids saw. Scott left this thing on the kitchen table for the kids’ viewing pleasure as they crunched on their Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Emma: Mommy, what’s this?

I spilled coffee on my shirt.

Me: Nothing. Your dad’s gift from last night.

Damnit, Scott.

Emma: What is it?

Me: I don’t even really know.

Emma: Maybe it’s a hat.

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It was from Africa.

Kate: Let me see it.

Why isn’t my life filmed.

Me: Let me have it. I think it was a joke.

Kate: I think it goes on my nose.

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It was from Africa.

Me: Hey, let’s not do that. Pretty sure all our neighbor friends had their hands all over that thing last night. Maybe their tongues. I don’t know what really went on.

Kate: It kinda stinks.

Me: I’ll take it. Thank you. It was from Africa. Sit here and eat. I’m going to take this back to daddy.

_________

Me: SCOTT. You left this thing out! The kids are playing with it!

Scott: What did they say about the picture?

Me: Huh? Nothing. It’s just another naked female body to them. They see me naked all the time. It’s the penis tip cover! Scott, get it out of here!

Scott: Really? They didn’t say anything about the picture?

Me: No. They glanced at the picture. It’s really not any different than how you and I dress around the house. They want to know what this PENIS TIP COVER IS!! Should we throw it away?

Scott: No way! It’s my new poker chip piece. I’ll hide it.

_________

The dog plays with it.

The dog plays with it.

It's a tea cup.

The girls have tea parties with it.

It's an African Elephant.

It’s an African Elephant.

It was from Africa.

Did you go to any White Elephant gift exchanges? What did you get? Did you get anything from Africa? Do you think the Zulu Mcedo will expand in water? It’s made out of banana leaves. Maybe we’re doing something wrong.

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The Norton Honor Hunt.

8 Dec

I am home from the Disabled Veterans Honor Hunt in Norton, Kansas.

20 disabled veterans were taken on a guided deer hunt in Norton, Kansas. The residents of Norton, population 3,000, raised enough money to cover the expenses needed for the hunters. Most of the veterans are not regular deer hunters due to their injuries or disabilities. Each veteran was provided with a personal guide to help stalk and go after deer. Volunteer meat processors were on stand-by to bag up the meat.

19 deer were shot.

Our friends rallied together to help the event. The Norton Honor Hunt was filmed by Killin’ It Outdoors. The veterans were interviewed and then followed around by camera crews. Andy Griggs flew in from Nashville to perform at the Honor Hunt Banquet. I came in town to interview the veterans because I knew every hero has a good story to tell.

They wouldn’t tell them to me.

Not those stories anyway.

I wanted to hear a war story. From any war, I didn’t care – from Vietnam to the current war on the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria. I wanted to hear about someone sacrificing their legs in the name of the United States. I wanted to hear about a man becoming a paraplegic because he saved a civilian’s child from a burning building. I wanted a hero’s tale. I wanted a scene from Hollywood. Good always trumps evil.

I was blind.

They didn’t have stories of valor.

They had horror stories.

Horror stories they would not dare tell a mom with two kids in tow. They only knew sickening stories. The kind of sickening one feels for that split second when you slam on your car brakes because the car in front of you is at a dead stop on the highway. The slow motion gives you time to pray for your kids in the backseat to live. That kind of horror.

My friend, Will, fought in Iraq right after college. He was first in his convoy. His job was to lead the route for his fellow soldiers – his family, his kids, his loved ones – following behind.

His family didn’t live.

You could say Will was lucky. But to him, he would be reminded his friends were not. Will flew back home a year later. He arrived in Dallas and walked into an airport full of people he didn’t know. There were cheerleaders with signs and people applauding. Hugs and kisses and babies filled the terminal. He felt welcome but didn’t feel understood.

“You tell yourself you are fighting for America, fighting for freedom but it doesn’t feel that way. I feel appreciated at home but it’s not…it doesn’t really matter. It’s a horror story…watching your family disappear before your eyes. Julie, as your friend, that’s all I can tell you.”

Will isn’t the same person I knew in college. But I wouldn’t be able to tell you that from my point of view. He has always been Will. He was always the first one to buy me a whiskey in Aggieville when we attended K-State. That didn’t change.

Will bought me a whiskey as soon as I walked into the Honor Hunt Banquet.

The veteran with no legs offered a hand to help carry my kids’ drinks because he noticed my hands were full. He used his other hand to push his wheelchair.

The female veteran teared up when I told her we brought our dog’s ashes to be spread in the field she used to pheasant hunt in.

A Vietnam veteran wiped away tears before my 8-year-old daughter walked up to ask if she could shake his hand.

I am the one that showed up blind.

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Did you put a bench in my trunk?

14 Nov

If you prank me, I’m going to get you back. My revenge will fail miserably and end up in a blog post.

There’s a kid around here wearing plaid and singing E-I-E-I-O on the old-new bench his parent brought home.

 

Me: Scott, did you put a bench in my trunk?

Scott: A bench? That sounds familiar. Maybe.

Me: Well, it would have been yesterday. It was within the last day.

Scott: What do you mean a bench?

Me: A bench. A child’s bench. Kinda rustic, Old MacDonald E-I-E-I-O looking.

Scott: What?

Me: Well, being the good samaritan I am, I took some of your old shirts to Goodwill tonight. When I opened my trunk, a bench was in there. Go look at it.

Scott: No. Where did this come from?

Me: I told you. I. Don’t. Know!

Scott: Text your mom.

Me: Why would my mom and dad put it in my trunk? They would put it in my house or garage if they thought I wanted it.

_____

Text message to mom: Did you or dad put a bench in my trunk?

Mom: Nope. So you leave your car unlocked?

Me: There is a random bench in the back of my car. I always keep my car in the garage.

Mom: When was your car unattended?

Me: Never. I know there was nothing in my trunk yesterday afternoon because I opened my trunk with my neighbor to see if these shutters would fit in my car. There was nothing in my trunk. Then tonight I open my trunk to fill it with Goodwill stuff and there’s a freakin’ bench in it.

Mom: Sounds like a Jayhawker.

_____

Me: Scott, it wasn’t my mom or dad. I think I believe her. I’m so confused and freaked out right now. Was our garage open last night?

Scott: No. Text your girlfriends.

Me: Why would any of my friends do that? It’s not even that funny. I can’t ask everyone if they put a bench in my trunk. It’s starting to sound dirty after repeating this in my head. “Did you put a bench in my trunk? And not that trunk.”

Scott: We’re going to find out who did this. Text them.

Me: Ugh.

_____

Text message to Heather: Did you put a bench in my trunk?

Heather: Um, no. I’m still working on finding you some chairs.

Me: Oh, ok. There’s a bench in my trunk.

Heather: Wtf?

_____

Me: Ok, it wasn’t Heather.

Scott: Didn’t you watch the game at Jeff and Theresa’s this weekend?

Me: Yeah.

Scott: Well, are you sure you didn’t get drunk and take a bench home?

Me: WHAT?! Uh, one – this appeared within the last 24 hours. Not from the weekend. I know my trunk was empty yesterday afternoon. I opened it with Christine to see if these shutters would fit inside. And, two – yes, I had a few cocktails since my soul was crushed by the K-State loss. But I know, I KNOW, that drunk me would never take a kid’s bench home.

Scott: Text Theresa.

Me: No! I’m not asking Theresa if I drunk stole a bench from their house. You text Jeff.

Scott: Text Christine.

_____

Text message to Christine: Did you put a bench in my trunk?

_____

Me: Christine’s not answering. I was with her all afternoon. She would have told me she put a bench in my trunk.

Scott: Ok. Someone had access to your car at some point in the last 24 hours. Think.

Me: Kid’s bench…it has to be trash? …….Oh. Oh no. Surely, she wouldn’t do this. Why would she do this?

_____

Text message to Carmen: Did you put a bench in my trunk?

Carmen: Well, I didn’t but…

Me: IT WAS YOU!

Carmen: It wasn’t me. It was Keith. And actually, we completely forgot about it until now. He wanted to see how long it would take for you to find it.

Me: WHAT?!

Me: Do you know how many people I asked if they put a bench in my trunk?

Carmen: We’re dying laughing…

Me: I asked my mom! She told me to stop leaving my car unlocked! Scott accused me of drunk stealing a bench from Jeff and Theresa’s! I texted Heather, asking if she put a bench in my trunk! I still haven’t heard from Christine. I asked her if she put a bench in my trunk too. Jesus.

Carmen: Dying. Keith can’t breathe. It’s trash. You can throw it away.

Me: When did he do this?

Carmen: He could have swore you saw him. You were in Christine’s house and he said you looked out the window and saw him.

Me: I remember looking out the window. But I was watching Doug take a wheelbarrow from your house. I am the most unobservant person ever. I never saw Keith near my car.

Carmen: It took him forever to load it. He thought he was caught.

Me: So I’ve been driving this thing around all day?

Carmen: LMAO

_____

Text message to mom: It was a Sooner, not a Jayhawk. Neighbor played a prank.

_____

Next morning.

Scott: What are you doing?

Me: Putting this bench front and center of our driveway. Keith and Carmen will have to drive by it before school in its full glory. Ha! Look at it! It’s hilarious!

Bench

Did you put a bench in my trunk?

_____

Scott: Have you heard from Carmen yet?

Me: No. Hmmm…actually….I think they carpool in the mornings. They probably didn’t see it. I’ll leave it for when school gets out. I know Carmen will drive by. Maybe I’ll print a life size picture of Keith. I’ll make him sit on the bench and wave. I’ll do that tomorrow. I don’t have time today.

I picked up my kids from school and pulled in an empty driveway.

GONE. The bench was gone.

_____

Text message to Carmen: Did you take the bench?

Carmen: What?

Me: I showcased the bench on my driveway for you and Keith. It’s GONE. Someone took it.

Carmen: WHAT???

Me: You said it was trash. Someone else thought so too. They took it. I can’t stop laughing at this picture.

Carmen: NO!

Me: I know! My next step was to print a real life-size picture of Keith. And make him wave to all the cars that pass by.

Carmen: No! I want the bench back!

Me: Me too!

_____

To the plaid-wearing kid – have fun with the bench your mom has in her trunk.

It would have gone to Goodwill anyway. I’m glad the bench is getting better use than a life-size man sitting and waving at cars.

 

Have you ever been pranked? Did you seek revenge? Have you ever taken “trash” from a house without asking? What is the best prank you’ve seen?

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The weddings turned me into an alcoholic.

3 Nov

I’m kidding about the title.

My liver is in remission. There are no more weddings on the calendar. My muscles are still twitching from the soul of Michael Jackson racing through my body during The Way You Make Me Feel on the dance floor.

We had a rush of friends profess their love in front of us this year. Not only this year but within the span of two months. One wedding sent me walking home with a tramp stamp. Another wedding pushed me off to the airport with a hangover. And the last wedding left me with nothing else to write about but I can’t move out of bed and weddings are turning me into an alcoholic.

I have been told that my blog is enjoyable to read because I don’t sugarcoat my life. I will never post a picture of Scott with the caption, “best hubby ever.” Nope, I won’t do it. Because he’s not. And Scott will tell you that I’m not the “best wife ever.” I am not. We don’t like making people roll their eyes and fake puke.

Scott and I fight. We get sad. We get annoyed with each other. We disagree.

But we also make each other laugh. We are happy. We love each other. We are honest with each other. We are human.

As a wedding guest, I don’t get a microphone in one hand and a whiskey in the other but I do get a hangover and a laptop.

To the new wives – my wedding was in an era before Pinterest. I’m jealous of the little touches you put into your weddings. My marriage has come a long way. I have learned a thing or two you won’t find on Pinterest.

  • Sex is fun. You will forget this as years go on. I don’t know what’s to blame for that – kids, hormones, age, lack of energy, boredom, all of the above. Sex shouldn’t be something you do occasionally. Be the woman. Let your hair down. Let your hair down a lot. He will never get bored with you. Go do it when you’re done reading this.
  • Men need affection. Men want hugs. He wants to be held. When he walks in the door, run to him and wrap your arms around him. He is your best friend. Best friends give hugs all the time. You will get a hug in return.
  • Accept that you will argue. If you don’t argue, you’re a liar. Here’s a teaser: Ask him what your kids’ names should be.
  • Fine, storm out. Make a scene. He will come back even if you say NO to naming your kid’s middle name Duane.
  • You’re not always right. Don’t think just because you are a woman, you are right. Sometimes he is. And sometimes God blesses you with girls so you never have to name your son Duane.
  • Hand holding in the car is essential. 
  • So are dates. Splurge on the dessert.
  • Weddings count as dates. He’s reminded you’re his own bride. You’re still the prettiest one in the room.
  • Let him have a hobby. Let him go without restrictions. He will understand when you find your hobby – such as writing about his ass, hunting all the time.
  • Find a hobby together. If salt water fishing is your couples thing even though you live in Kansas, well, hey – at least you have something to look forward to.
  • Make fun of each other’s grey hair and wrinkles. You’re growing old together. Laugh about it.
  • Don’t complain about your body to him. If you don’t like it, then fix it. He loves it. It’s you that doesn’t.
  • Be attractive. But in a way that’s only for him. If he likes your hair long, wear it long. It works both ways, you can give him the evil eye when he tries to shave his beard.
  • Let him know at the beginning that you don’t like to cook. Or clean. The expectations are much easier to meet.
  • Remind yourself the best day of your life was marrying him. Some say giving birth is the best day of their lives. Maximum pain levels and a fire crotch might be yours too. But remember that the kids leave the house. He won’t. Your family started on the day you professed your love in front of your family and free loading, alcoholic friends.
  • Get up and dance together to The Way You Make Me Feel at your friends’ weddings. 

 

How many years have you been married? Did you get married before Pinterest was invented? Do you have advice for newlyweds? Do agree or disagree with my list? Have you ever busted a move to MJ on the dance floor? 

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Another ebola post.

20 Oct

I’m a big believer in “if it’s my time to die, it’s my time to die.”

If my plane goes down, I guess I’ll go holding hands with a stranger.

If I get whacked in the head with a foul ball because I was paying more attention to my nachos, well, at least my last meal was beer and nachos.

If I get ebola, they’ll still let me have my laptop in the hospital room, right? I can live tweet my own death.

Ebola. Yes, it’s scary. No, I’m not worried about catching it.

Just like I wasn’t worried about the bird flu, swine flu or H1N1. Are any of those the same thing? I will say I was rooting for Y2K to blow up the computers. I was a senior in high school and wanted out early.

But I do worry.

There are worse things to worry about in life than ebola:

  • Cracking a tooth on frozen Halloween candy because I have no damn self control.
  • San Francisco Giants fans.
Losing my Oklahoma friend, Carmen, after KSU beat Oklahoma this weekend.

Losing my Oklahoma friend, Carmen, after KSU beat Oklahoma this weekend.

  • Being 2.5 years away from re-living middle school.
  • Scott leaving his family for a tree stand when his daughters start wearing bras.
  • Wrinkles and saggy boobs.
Scott baking with the kids in the kitchen.

Scott baking with the kids in the kitchen.

  • Facebook, in general.
Having nights like this.

Having nights that end like this.

  • “Mom, will you check my butt to see if I wiped good?”
"Hey Emma, take a picture next to the camera guy and tell Nana that you're helping film the Royals!"

“Hey Emma, take a picture next to the camera guy and tell Nana you’re helping film the Royals!”

Really dude?

People not doing their job.

  • Never having the amount of money Pinterest thinks I have.
Avoiding eye contact while using this machine at the gym.

Avoiding eye contact while using this machine at the gym.

  • Wondering if my blog is shit.
  • Wondering if I am shit.
3rd grade math. I don't get it.

3rd grade math – I don’t get it.

On a scale of 1 - 10, how likely is Scott going to murder me for sneaking this picture of a child ghost into his trail cam picture files?

Wondering how likely Scott is going to murder me for sneaking this picture of a child ghost into his trail cam picture files?

  • Waking up to an Oklahoma flag flying on my house.
  • Having matches on hand.
Getting caught stalking this guy so I could get a good picture to send my friends with caption - "my vag hurts."

Getting caught stalking this guy so I could get a picture to send my friends with caption – “my vag hurts. LOL.”

  • Wondering if my friends traveling back from South Africa will understand our concern when they come home to a plastic-wrapped house with caution tape all over. QUARANTINED.

 

Are you worried about ebola? Did you worry about other mass epidemics? What do you worry about for no good reason? 

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