Without this ring.


A lost wedding ring.

The old wives say bad fortune is in your future. You might as well be looking for your happy marriage at the bottom of that murky lake.

Superstitious or not, losing a ring will set off panic. Never in your life have you prayed for time to go backwards. For just a few seconds, God. Please. A tiny bit. It was right. here.

And then it’s gone.

That split second can happen all kinds of ways. I polled my Facebook friends. Hey, I do more than stalk on Facebook. I got the party started with this question –

“For those of you (or your spouse) that have lost your wedding ring – how did you lose it?”
  • It fell off my husband’s finger into the ocean. It was the first day of our honeymoon.
  • My husband gave the ring to our girls to play with. Been gone ever since.
  • He lost it in training and his 2nd one got lost while he was deployed.
  • It’s at the bottom of Table Rock Lake. It fell off while cleaning catfish.
  • My husband lost his in the snow, it slid right off. I lost mine after my 2-year-old took it. It was never seen again.
  • I have a nervous tick and I play with it on my finger. I spent hours looking for it in a parking lot.
  • My husband lost another man’s wedding ring. We were at a triathlon and my husband offered to hold a friend’s ring while he did the swim event. My husband went to pull in the buoys out of the water and the ring slipped into the water.
  • Husband lost his in the bottom of a river while canoeing, trying to save another couple from distress. 2nd one in Applebee’s bathroom. I will have to ask about 3rd and 4th rings.
  • Softball field, never found it.
  • Public restroom. Unfortunately, no one turned it in.
  • He threw it in the trash after washing his hands at work.
  • Thought it was lost forever but found it in the laundry basket.
  • Cat knocked it down the sink drain.
  • Workout bag had a hole in the pocket.
  • Divorce
  • Somewhere in our old house. I would love to blame my kids, for that I’m convinced a toddler misplaced it.
  • In the pasture behind our house.
  • Spinning it on the table at “Shot Stop” in Aggieville. It fell between a crack in the wall and the floor. Next time they tear down that bar, I’m going to go get it.
  • Stuck under my bathroom scale.
  • I throw it off in my sleep, but I always find it.
  • Fell out of my pocket while golfing. Luckily, I was with my father-in-law.
  • A beach in Mexico. I was getting a massage and left it in the hut on the counter.
  • Solution: Get the wedding ring tattooed on. (Brilliant, Serena. Brilliant.)


The responses to my research were immediate. I was expecting a handful of men to respond. Instead, my Facebook page turned into a confession box with a line out the door. Men and women. What surprised me the most was how lighthearted everyone felt about their missing symbol of infinite love. There were no sad stories. No said they felt bad. They were sharing a war stories. They survived and could tell the tale.

These people have found the secret – marriage isn’t a sealed deal until one of you lose a wedding ring. Only then you are golden. Oh, and that crap about your ring finger having a vein in it leading straight to your heart is a lie.

Scott lost his ring. We’re in.

You won’t find Scott’s response above. Scott couldn’t respond to my Facebook poll because Scott has no clue where he lost his ring. He left the house with his wedding ring on. He crawled into bed without his wedding ring on. He swore he didn’t take it off. It’s gone. It has been missing for a few weeks now. Stop it, ladies. He’s taken. But you can look at his cute butt.

We will replace the original ring. Maybe we’ll let our daughters help pick out a new ring. We’re not in a rush. We don’t need a ring to prove to the world that we’re married. That’s what a marriage certificate is for.

Oh, wait. Yeah, we lost that like 8 years ago.


Where did you go?

Goodbye, wedding ring.

Have you or your spouse ever lost a wedding ring? Did you find it or is it lost forever? Have you ever lost anything with sentimental value?

I got bored and played Facebook games.

Scott, peeking over my shoulder to see what I’m writing about: I…got…bored…and…played…Facebook…games. Uh, more like I got bored and I’m addicted to the Internet.

Me: Everyone is. And like I’m going to say no to a writing opportunity.


“Julie, you can do 15.” — Kelly (Hi Kelly, I’m waving!)

Ok, I’ll play your little game, Facebook. 15 facts about me:

1. I hate bacon. Please, don’t drop me as a friend.

2. Sometimes I think I’m missing the female gene because the only TV I watch is ESPN, I love whiskey and I have toe hair I have to shave regularly.

3. I rarely get embarrassed. Like just today, my father-in-law walked in the (open) bathroom on me. I yelled at Scott that his dad saw my V. Scott’s response was, “well, check another one off your list.”

4. I can be blunt.

5. Take that back – I can be blunt about myself. For anyone else, I will say anything so your feelings don’t get hurt. Your butt will always look small in those pants.

6. My mom is Mexican and my dad is Caucasian. If you ask me my heritage I will tell you Mexican because it’s the dominant gene. I also check “Mexican” on any official forms even though I totally look like my white dad.

7. I refer to my house as The Island because we live on the edge of a busy street. It’s hard for kids to come over and play. My solution is to lure their parents over with margaritas because I’m Mexican. Virgin for the kids.

8. I desperately need help decorating the inside of my house. And I should probably clean more too. But I have a dancing around the house problem when left alone with free time.

9. I am incredibly shy in person. This sucks because I’m always looking for friends. I am realizing now, in my 30s, I need to suck it up and be more confident to find them. I blame middle school for all of this.

10. I have been drinking coffee regularly since 16. My kids love coffee too and have been drinking it since the womb. I feel guilty for that.

11. My dad and I were a full 5 minutes late going down the aisle at my wedding because we were pointing and making fun of family members from behind the glass doors. Scott wasn’t nervous about my late arrival because he knew my dad and I were probably jacking around and not paying attention. The video shows Scott shaking his head and throwing his hands up in the air.

12. I was born on Black Friday. But I pay full price for nearly everything because I’m not very smart.

13. I like watching people’s expressions when I tell them I have never seen the movies Goonies, Breakfast Club, or 16 Candles.

14. I eat the same breakfast every day (english muffin with peanut butter, coffee). And I eat ice cream every night in bed. This bothers Scott much more than it really should.

15. I prefer Twitter over Facebook. Twitter would never let me ramble on like this.


“Julie, you are the best writer I know, so do 12.” — Emily (Hi Emily, I’m waving! And thank you.)

12 facts about my pregnancies:

1. I found out I was pregnant after K-State lost to OU on October 1, 2005. I was hoping the pregnancy test would cheer me up. I showed Scott the positive test result.  We both half smiled then got depressed again about K-State. The little cluster of cells, later named Emma, started to flow with purple blood.

2. I went off birth control for one month when we wanted a sibling for Emma. “Uh, Scott I’m already pregnant.” –“well, that sucked. We didn’t even have fun trying.”

3. Scott does not know that I timed my cycle with “how to conceive a girl.” SURPRISE! And now Scott knows. I just wanted to reuse Emma’s old clothes. Cheaper.

4. My bra size exploded to a size E when pregnant. Yeah, I know. As cool as this sounds for Scott, he was forbidden to touch them because my hormones would instantly kick him in the balls for doing this to me.

5. I traveled to Maui, Hawaii when I was pregnant with Emma. I traveled to Las Vegas, Nevada when I was pregnant with Kate. These cities fit their personalities.

6. I craved 7-11 Icees with Emma. I craved very spicy foods with Kate. These foods fit their personalities.

7. Scott was the one that picked the name “Emma.” Come to find out later, Emma has Scott’s laid-back personality. I picked the name “Kate.” And well, she has been called “little Julie” more than once. I don’t know what they’re talking about.

8. We found out the sex of each child as soon as possible. We did not keep their names a secret simply because I’m not very good at keeping secrets. I showed my dad the ultrasound picture of our baby and asked, “guess what she is?”

9. I went to the ER when I was 5 months pregnant with Kate because I was having contractions. The ER doctor checked my cervix then sent me to Labor and Delivery. The L & D nurses told us they were surprised I wasn’t sent straight to Labor and Delivery instead of ER. Scott told the L & D nurses, “well, that doc down there obviously just wanted to see my wife’s vagina.” 

10. While I was in labor with Emma, a medical student introduced himself to me and my family. My sister, Jessica, said “hey, I know you!” Turns out he was her boyfriend’s roommate’s brother. Boyfriend’s roommate’s brother held my other leg while I pushed Emma. Out of breath, I muttered to boyfriend’s roommate’s brother that he can “shut up,” “you’re not a doctor,” and “screw you, I’m pushing anyway.” I told Jessica that boyfriend’s roommate’s brother cannot be invited to her and boyfriend’s wedding.

11. Kate’s labor was very fast. The staff had to pull a random doctor (not an obstetrician) from another wing to deliver her. The doctor yelled at the nurses as she walked in the room that she “doesn’t deliver babies.” Kate slid into her arms less than 10 seconds later.

12. Scott told me I’m not allowed to write about this – Ha! Let’s “beat around the bush,” shall we? That bush I’m supposedly trying to beat around was a mess at Kate’s delivery. Scott asked me why I let squirrels gnaw at the bush that I’m trying to beat around. Well, I couldn’t see the hedges of this bush I’m beating around with a huge belly in the way, Scott.

It’s not you Facebook, it’s Twitter.

I’ve changed my favorite social network. Twitter is where it’s at.

I still remember the day I heard about Facebook.

I had already graduated K-State. My sister, Jessica, told me about the newest thing college students had – it was called Facebook. She said it is “kinda like instant messaging but every one has a wall to post on.” At the time, you had to sign up using your college email address.

Well crap. I had to stay hip with the college students. I signed up using my old K-State email address. It worked.

That was a long time ago. Facebook has changed a lot. Now, you’re considered a ghost if you don’t have a Facebook account. It’s like you don’t exist in the social world.

I consider Facebook an easy way to communicate to the people I know in real life. I can post pictures without censoring where we live or the cars we drive. I was 24 when I started Facebook – 75% of the pictures of me include a beer in my hand on vacation or in a bridesmaid dress with my signature whiskey and coke at a wedding. It’s possible a couple of kid butt crack pictures may have slipped through. I can post a drunken post about Bill Snyder having old hairy white balls and not think anything of it because everyone knows me. Emma and Kate’s whole lives – from the moment they existed in the womb to pictures to potty training complaints – are all documented online for family and friends to see. I like seeing pictures of friend’s babies within a minute of them being born. I enjoy looking at other’s wedding and vacation albums. Of course, everything is not on Facebook. Like all social network sites, Facebook only knows what you want it to know. Or at the very least, the untag button works wonders.

Now, my love affair with Twitter …

It’s not as popular with my friends. Everyone seems to say the same thing – “I don’t know how to use it.”

Oh, but you should.

It’s simple. It’s like Facebook if Facebook was limited to posts only. Twitter cuts the crap out. Twitter doesn’t care if you “like” Target. You are limited to 140 characters – so basically, say what you gotta say and say it quickly. The majority of people that follow me/I follow are people I do not know in real life. I follow a lot of comedians. I generally follow anyone who is a K-State fan. I follow my favorite mom bloggers. I follow celebrities that are funny. If anything major happens in the world, I will hear about it in the form of jokes on Twitter, not on the news.

I swear, Twitter makes me a better writer. I laugh at my own tweets. I laugh at other’s tweets. It’s pure comedy.

I have gone on Twitter rampages that I could never get away with on Facebook. Like the time I wedding crashed. Or when my niece was born. These rampages would be annoying on Facebook. It was hilarious on Twitter – or, at least, I thought so.

I don’t know. I’m starting to prefer it over Facebook. My husband rolls his eyes at me for being on Twitter. Says he doesn’t get it. He will sarcastically ask me if someone retweeted my tweet.

The only thing I can say is it’s just where the cool kids hang out now. Gotta stay hip.

Class of 2000.

Yeah, I know Facebook. You keep reminding me of my 10 year high school reunion.

I feel so old. Ten years. I mean, I am married, have two kids, financially stable, own a home. I’m everything I imagined I would be at my ten year reunion. But I’m so much hipper than that.

Decision: Do I attend? They want to do it at the homecoming game this fall.
1.  I never once went to any sporting event during high school.  Didn’t play.  Didn’t care.
2.  I never even went to pep assembly.  Or any assembly.  That was my escape to get myself a mocha latte from Starbucks with a couple friends.*

*Don’t read into that too much, I was a B-average student.  Didn’t drink, do drugs.  Just coffee houses.

Facebook has been my source for finding the friends I lost over the years.  400+ photos of old crushes. Old elementary, jr. high and high school teachers. Parents of old friends. There all there and can easily be found.

A few people have found me and I have no idea who they are. A few guy-friends have confessed to having little crushes on me back in the day! And why didn’t you speak up then? I have shown off my children on Facebook. I have seen others children and see little miniature versions of their parents. I have looked at all the girls that were pregnant in my class to see how everything worked out for them (and their 10+ year olds).

Do we really need a reunion? Isn’t facebook the reunion? If I want to see you in person, I will. I guess I’m still scared of the cliques. The jocks. The nerds. The artsy ones. The drama theatre ones. The cheerleaders/dancers.  The goth ones.  All in their groups. I was never in any of those groups. I was a wallflower.

I’m probably wrong.  I hope I’m wrong.

I could totally see my best friend, Patti, and I showing up and then escaping.  Sitting at the ol’ coffee house, or bar, and just being ourselves talking about life. Cheers to us for getting out of that place ten years ago.