I interviewed Trooper Ben.

We all have those friends with certain careers that can hook us up.

Maybe you have a friend that works at Chick-Fil-A and you score free chocolate shakes when you walk in.

Or it’s possible you started choking on a fish bone at dinner and your doctor friend jumped up and performed the Heimlich Maneuver on you.

Photographer friend? Maybe she gives you a family photoshoot for your birthday.

Or maybe, just maybe, you know a highway patrol trooper. You can throw questions at him without feeling like you did something wrong.

Meet Trooper Ben on Twitter.

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Trooper Ben works for the Kansas Highway Patrol. The man has 28,000 followers on Twitter – although, I would call them more his friends. He’ll answer your questions with humor but he also keeps in mind he doesn’t want you to die either. If he has time, he’ll tweet Q&As from his followers.

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I found Trooper Ben’s twitter handle from Eric Stonestreet.


Yes, this Eric Stonestreet. The K-State family is a close one.

It doesn’t really matter how I met Trooper Ben. We’re friends now even though I’ve never met him in real life. And hopefully, I never meet him because I’m a safe driver.


Ok, like one speeding ticket.

I’ve gotten out of two speeding tickets with warnings.

Oh, and then there was that one time I got a ticket for not moving over a lane while a South Dakota trooper pulled over another car on the highway. Yes, I broke the law and I wasn’t safe. My ticket was fair. I should have moved over a lane. But that wasn’t my question for Trooper Ben.

My question for Trooper Ben:

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If you want the long version of this story, click here.

In short – I was pulled over for not moving over a lane. The South Dakota trooper asked me to leave my car, walk along the side of the highway, and sit in his car while he chatted and wrote me a ticket. This happened in the middle of the afternoon. My husband and two daughters were in the car. It was clear we were on a family road trip.

Trooper Ben was kind enough to give me a call today and explain the trooper’s possible reasonings.

I did not record our conversation for direct quotes but I did take notes.

Trooper Ben asks drivers to sit in his car for various reasons, although it is rare.

If he smells alcohol, he has been known to ask the driver to sit in his car. Using his car as a “neutral scent” zone, he can smell possible alcohol on the driver’s breath. My breath smelled like coffee, cream, sugar, and nachos cheese Doritos.

Another reason – smuggling drugs. By questioning a person away from the “comfort zone” of their own car, he can gather more information from the driver to make sure stories add up – Who is in the car with you? What are the kids’ names? Where are you going? Believe it or not, people have been known to smuggle drugs with kids in the car. The particular car I was driving at the time was a rental and it had Florida plates. I gave the South Dakota trooper my Kansas driver’s license.

I asked Trooper Ben the number one answer I’ve heard when I tell this story – was it possible the trooper just wanted to hit on me away from my husband? Trooper Ben said he hopes that’s not the case. Looking back, I don’t feel like this particular trooper was hitting on me but I do remember being scared that he might. I felt vulnerable away from my husband.

My biggest question for Trooper Ben – did I have the right to refuse to get into the trooper’s vehicle if I wasn’t under arrest? Trooper Ben said it wouldn’t be an unreasonable request if I feared for my safety. Another option Trooper Ben suggested is to ask if I could record the conversation via video or voice.

In the end, everyone was safe. I still got a ticket. It was possible the South Dakota trooper thought I was smuggling drugs. But I can’t interview that trooper to ask him why.

I can only interview Trooper Ben.

Don’t forget to move over a lane when you see another car pulled over.


Wait, don’t go! Find me on FacebookTwitter, and Instagram

And don’t forget to buy my book, “But Did You Die?”

Worth quoting.

Things I’ve said worth quoting.

How do I remember things I’ve said worth quoting? It’s not like I’m famous and things get written down or recorded when I speak. It’s not like I’m a stand-up comedian. It’s not like anyone cares what I have to say. It’s not like I haven’t repeated myself all day to the kids and husband to pick up your damn shoes.

Things I’ve said worth quoting. Impossible.

Oh wait! Yes I do, kids! Yes, I do!

I have 7 years of quotes. 92 months of one-liners. 2,800 days of sorta half-ass jokes.

Hello, Twitter.

Things I’ve said worth quoting. They have to be funny if I forget about them, rediscover them, and laugh? Right?


“10-year-old me: When am I ever going to use long division in real life?

34-year-old-me: (opening daughter’s backpack) Oh, you son of a bitch.”


“Ice cream employee: I didn’t know you had kids! You always come in by yourself.

Kids: WHAT?! MOM!

It’s like she didn’t even want a tip.”


“Hi, my child will be late to school because there’s a bump in her sock.”


“Husband: I need your credit card to buy something off Amazon.

Me: I have it memorized, ready?

Husband: WHAT?!

Me: What.”


“Just got carded for buying rubber cement.

Hey kids – in my day, we drank alcohol.”


“My throat hurts. This can’t happen.

If I get sick, the house collapses, and my family wanders the streets in search of shelter and food.”


“Dropped birth control pill. Dog ate it.

Have fun humping your stuffed animal.”


“Liquor store employee: Can I see your ID?


Liquor store employee: You didn’t sign the back of your card.

Me: Oh.”


“If I told my husband how much I paid for my shampoo, he would stop using my shampoo.

But then I would be admitting how much I paid for my shampoo.”


“”That looks absolutely miserable. It would suck to do that everyday.”

–my husband, watching me put on skinny jeans.”


“Does anyone else run on your tippy toes if you’re barefoot? Does anyone else say tippy toes?”


“Me: Siri, what was the Royals score last night?

Siri: The Royals got smashed by the Mariners 6 to nothing.

Me: You trash talking’, Siri?”


“10: Mom, a boy laughed at me at school for having hairy legs.

Me: He’s not worth shaving for.

10: Huh?

Me: Just remember that.”


“I put my hand down the garbage disposal, searching for the clog. And then I prayed a ghost wouldn’t flip the switch.”


“Cut a bunch of jalapeños. Rubbed my eye. And then I saw Satan himself on this fine Sunday morning.”


“Parent rookie move: I smelled the finger.”


“It would be great if flight attendants would wipe the drool off your face while sleeping on a plane.”


“Me: Finally picked up birth control so we can GET. IT. ON!

10: Mom?!

Me: I thought you were outside.

This is her childhood memory now.”


“7 minutes and 34 seconds – first fight into summer.


I timed their asses.”


“Well, I never thought I’d call my daughter a raging-she-devil-bitch-from-the-depths-of-hormonal-hell but here we are.”


“How can I return to this gym after my husband forgot he had headphones in and shouts – “CHECK OUT THAT YOGA GUY GIVING HIMSELF A BLOWJOB.””


“Niece: Daddy, did you shut your pants?

Bro-in-law: Shut my pants?

Niece: You know, like, poop in them.

She just became my favorite niece.”


“Husband (in shower): you have like 8 bottles of shampoo and conditioner in here.

It’s like he doesn’t even want a hot wife with good hair.”


“Dryer’s broke. Time to hang every piece of underwear my family wore this week on a string in our backyard.”


“Me: I got you 4th of July tattoos! Do you want the tattoo on your face or hand?

7: Lower back. Middle.

Me: WHAT?!

7: What.”


“To put karma on my side, I will give every Twitter follower $1,000 if I win the Powerball. Cheer me on.”


“What?! A two-hour wait at Chipotle?! I liked them a lot better with no lines and a roll of the dice for a possible side of Ecoli.”


“You know school is near when your kids are grounded for attempted murder.
Can I get you anything, teachers? Water? Cocktail? Shoulder rub?”


“My 2nd grader has English homework: your, you’re, there, they’re, their, to, too, two.

Everything in life comes down to this one lesson.”


“6: Mommy, are you nippin’?

Me: Your dad is in so much trouble.”


“Taco Bell employee: Would you like sauce?

Me: Fire. I’m Mexican.

TB employee: (rambles Spanish)

Me: Oh, not that kind of Mexican.”


“My oldest just screamed at her little sister for wearing her clothes. The first-born in me is silently cheering her on.”


“My daughter, taking medicine: Ok, taking the shooter and the catcher!

Me: The chaser! The shooter and the chaser!

Parenting is hard.”


“Just walked out of Target, paying $3.15 like some kind of damn miracle worker.”


“It’s my kids’ last day of school. I sorta just want to get rip-roaring drunk on my last day of freedom.”


“If you’ve never listened to Top Gun Anthem while taking off in a plane, we can’t be friends.”


“Will you remind post-vacation-me that we’re out of toilet paper because pre-vacation-me says, “screw it. I’m on vacation.”

God, she’s such a bitch.”


Hwy Patrol: License and Registration. Hi girls!

9: Hi

6: Hi, nice cop!

*I damn near started fist pumping*

Hwy Patrol: You get a warning.


“Just an oil change. And don’t trick me into buying anything else or my husband will yell at me and I’ll have to come back here and cut you.”


“”This is bullshit.” – me, right now, waiting in the school pick-up line for my kids to call me the worst mother for not sending them to school with  a coat.”


“Scott: The tattoo pain is real. 7 out of 10.

Me: Did you cry?

Scott: I’m a man.

Tattoo artist: We both cried.

This guy’s good. He’s good.”


“I’m getting ready to ride a bull. So I could use some prayers and support right now.”


“Scott: There’s glitter on your face. It looks like you put your head in a stripper’s lap.

1. It’s Halloween
2. Maybe she was consoling me.”


“”I’m not wearing a Chiefs shirt tomorrow. You’ve NEVER taken me to a game EVER.” – my 7 yo daughter.

I don’t know if I’m proud or angry.”


“Me: Go to bed!

Kids: Never! It’s summer!

It’s hell.”


“Getting my car serviced. I accidentally said the word “thingie.” So now there’s a mechanic in the back making it rain over my car.”


You guys, this was only a year’s worth.

A years worth of things I’ve said worth quoting.


Wait, don’t go! Find me on FacebookTwitter, and Instagram.

Twitter, go to the Twitter.


That awkward moment.

I read a lot.

I don’t watch TV because I would rather spend my time reading. In fact, sports is the only reason I even own a TV.  If I watch a movie, it’s only so I can say, “the book is way better.” My job requires a tremendous amount of research. I am all over the Internet, reading, and learning.

But don’t let a heavy reader like me fool you into thinking I’m intelligent.

I am also on Twitter.

Some of you know her, some don’t – The Bloggess, also known as Jenny Lawson tweeted:


And then Twitter exploded.

People started telling their most awkward moments. MY PEOPLE.

But like I said – don’t let a heavy reader like me fool you into thinking I’m intelligent.

Academically, I was a B average meh, sometimes C average student. I still use the calculator on my phone to figure out tips because I refuse to accept that I will use math in real life.

You think me not watching TV is shocking – I am also terribly shy in person. All of this means I own awkward.

I’ve written this post before but everything is much funnier to me after I forget about it:


Scott and I went to Napa for a date weekend. At our first winery, I told Scott to tip the employee since they had tip jars out. Scott threw the cash into the metal container.

Three wineries later, we were told it was a spit jar.


I asked my dad’s friend, Larry, to teach me how to drive a motorcycle. Larry told me to straddle my dad’s motorcycle.

Larry: Ok, first gear is like this.

Me: Whoa. Wait, I don’t drive a stick. I need an automatic motorcycle to learn on.


“Do you think Tiger Woods is good at mini-golf? He’d have to get a hole-in-one every time, right?”


Our friend, Brett, took us fishing with country music singer, Tyler Farr.

Me: Tyler, do you actually sing on stage or do you fake sing?


At the gym.

Scott: Your turn. I’ll remove some weights for you.

Me: You don’t have to. My legs are much stronger than yours because proportionately women are stronger in their legs than men.


I was watching TV with my dad. An ad came on for a hamburger place. They advertised that their half pound cheeseburger is the biggest one around.

Me: That’s so not true. McDonald’s has the quarter pounder.


I once took a silent picture of a KFC’s employee’s nip slip. I forgot to turn the flash off and she called me out.

I squealed out of the parking lot, crying and shaking. I blogged about it.


A dry wall guy was working in our basement. I didn’t want him to hear me say I had to poop.

Me: Hey Emma, I’m going to go upstairs to P-O-O-P. Be right back.

I stopped dead in my tracks on the stairs when I realized he could spell.


“Wait, WHAT?! I totally thought ‘Don’t Stop Believin’ didn’t come out until I was in college.”


I was looking at the stars with Scott. There were supposed to be a lot of shooting stars that night.

Me: So, like, I know that way is north and that way is south. But what direction is up? Does it all kinda merge to the north?


“There’s no way Ricky Martin is gay.”


“Do guys look at each others’ penises in the locker room? Like, have you seen all your hockey friends’ penises? I would totally look. I check out boobs all the time and I have my own.”


“How do you boil an egg? I mean, like, good.”


“Oh I only eat fish, chicken and turkey. I hate the taste of red meat. Well, actually, I do eat Taco Bell’s taco meat. Completely different.”


“Scott. You have got to read this book. JFK was the biggest perv. (Singing) And I’m LOVING IT.”


I asked the grocery store employee where the guacamoles were. But for the record, that was only because Scott wrote it that way on a list.


On a boat, fishing in the Dominican Republic. I took a break to go sit upstairs with the captain.

Me: “But if you have a fish finder docked on the boat, isn’t that cheating?”


To a flight attendant, on a plane.

Me: Is it true you can’t say bomb on an airplane? Or is that just in Meet the Parents?


I interviewed a coffee shop for work. They invited me to join them “cupping” – or loudly slurping coffee from a spoon.

Barista: Ok, grab a spoon and we’ll get started.

I grabbed a rusted, antique spoon hanging on the wall as art. Before I left, I saw a cup of clean, shiny spoons on the table. I used the antique spoon the whole time and no one said anything.


I don’t think there’s ever been a time I haven’t thanked an officer for a speeding ticket.


In college, my dorm roommate would ask me to sit in the bathroom while she pooped in a stall. She would read a magazine out loud and we would discuss the articles. I don’t know.

I was sitting on top of the sink when another girl walked into another stall. My roommate was mid-sentence when the girl ripped ass so loud it echoed down the hallway. My roommate completely stops talking and never finished her sentence. I could hear laughing through her nose. I jumped off the sink, ran back to our room, and slammed the door. I could never look that girl in the eye again.


Please tell me you have more to add. Tell me your most awkward moment. Then go read everyone else’s on Twitter. God, I love Twitter.

The Bloggess follows me on Twitter.

Me: Oh my God. I think my heart just stopped.

Scott: What?

Me: The Bloggess just followed me on Twitter.

Scott: …….

Me: Come on.

Scott: Who?

Me: Oh. My. God. The blogger of all bloggers! The Bloggess! Jenny Lawson!

Scott: Oh. You’re social media’ing right now.

Me: Oh. You’re social media’ing right now. No, you DON’T UNDERSTAND. She’s famous, Scott. She’s written books. She’ll post something about…I don’t know…about brushing her daughter’s hair and she’ll make it funny just by the way she writes it because she’s a genius. The subject doesn’t even matter. My favorite thing about her – she’s humble. She blows off that she’s so famous. She doesn’t even believe it. She has, like, one real ad on her blog. If I were her, I would walk into a store and be like, “do you know who I am. THE BLOGGESS. BOOM.” And people would bow down. But not Jenny. She loves to dress up taxidermy, Scott. And she lives with anxiety. And she fights with her husband. But they funny-fight, like we do. And she’s self conscious. And she’s much better at writing about her life than talking in person. Probably. I’m guessing. She’s ME, Scott. But better. And you’re Victor. I don’t know who’s better.

Scott: Never heard of them.

Me: Can I just stop and take a moment here….  …AND NOW THE BLOGGESS FOLLOWS ME ON TWITTER. She clicked my profile and then she clicked “follow.” This is crazy. Amazing. Crap, do you think she thinks I’m weird for hating bacon?

Scott: Sure.

Me: Sure?! How do you just shrug your shoulders? I think she might top Eric Stonestreet following me. I need to tell someone. Someone that will scream with me.



Girlfriends 1. Husband 0.

Have you ever gotten giddy around a celebrity or someone you admire? Did you laugh at “knock knock, motherfucker?” You laughed if you know who The Bloggess is. Does anyone else understand my level of excitement right now?

The Bloggess.

Knock Knock, Motherfucker.

The Bloggess on Twitter.

March Madness.

Ooooo…what’s this little jewel? Ha!

I send a mass text message to Scott’s family. I double check to make sure Scott’s brother, Mark, (a UT grad) is on the text:


I hear Scott’s phone ding with my text.

Scott: BUG!! It’s 7:30 in the morning!! Are you seriously starting the trash talk this early?

Me: What? Is that a problem? He’s awake.

Sometimes I think I’m the sports-obsessed male in this relationship. What is wrong with me? Do I have hair on my chest?

  • I swear, by April, I will be making myself an appointment at the doctor because I’ll have a freaking UTI. If K-State is winning, I will not move. I don’t care how bad I have to pee. Once the ending buzzer sounds, you can bet money I am running with duck butt to the toilet. And probably tweeting at the same time.
  • I am seriously considering buying 3 tickets to the Big 12 Tourney in Kansas City today. The 3 ticket holders will be Emma, Kate and myself. I will brave downtown with a 6-year-old and a 3-year-old on a school night. The girls will love it. Scott is out of town tonight. Suckaaaaaa.
  • If K-State loses at any point in this season, oh dear Lord. When I say don’t talk to me, I mean it. Do not talk to me. I will probably have an epic meltdown on Twitter.
  • I have done my research to counter any argument against K-State not being the best team in the nation.
  • I showed Kate a video of KSU’s tunnel dance on YouTube. Kate: Uh, why are they dancing? They need to be playing basketball. She will make a fine KSU Women’s Basketball player one day.
  • One of the rules in our house is no screaming. But if K-State hits a 3 at the buzzer against Baylor? Oh, sorry girls. Did mommy wake you with her screaming? K-State won! Let’s all just scream it out! Open the windows and scream! Eeeeeeeeee!!! Ok, go back to bed.
  • Gopowercat.com? I read every article. Sportstalk radio? It’s the only thing my car speakers know. ESPN on TV? Get out of here, Yo Gabba Gabba.
  • I need anxiety meds. Or a shot of estrogen to make me a normal woman. A day at the spa as long as they let me check scores on my phone. Man, somethin’.

Let the March Madness begin, folks!! I wish your favorite teams luck! Uh, unless they play K-State.

Oh wait, Texas won’t be dancin’ this year, Mark. BOOM.

Evelyn Fay.

Thursday, March 7, 2013.

Hey Scott, we should invite Jenna and Steven to watch Emma’s school musical with us tonight. I’ll send her a text later.

Yeah, that text was never sent.

Jenna went into labor that morning. The hours ticked by into the evening. My little niece – nicknamed The Great Bambino – was throwing a curveball at me. I had to chose between attending my daughter’s musical or stay at the hospital to stay near my sister. Torture! Oh, my heart.

5:30 pm: showtime. I had to choose – go with Scott and Emma to the school or stay at the hospital with my sister pushing a room away.

I stayed at the hospital.

Scott took off with Emma and the HD video camera in hand.

I had Miss Evelyn Fay in my arms just about the same time Emma took the stage.

I could not be prouder of both of them. One day, I’ll show Evelyn her cousin’s big school musical. I’ll tell her it was filmed at the exact moment of her birth. Emma, Kate, Evelyn and I will pig out on ice cream while singing along with 6-year-old Emma on the screen. I know Evelyn will just love it.

That’s not the only way Aunt Jules documented her birth. Aunt Jules live-tweeted from the waiting room!

For those that don’t follow me, here is a re-cap:

  • Guess what time it is?! It’s #auntjules time!!! You’re in for a ride, Twitter!


  • Well crap. Emma’s school play is tonight. Kids kids – Aunt Jules/mommy can’t be in both places! Work it out. #auntjules
  • Yes! Sisters water broke! Baby girl popped that bubble when she knew #auntjules was here!
  • Message from my other sister in Tulsa: “Keep your legs together until I get there.” Hope you understand OK and KS hwy patrol. #auntjules
  • I’m here, baby niece. Inches away. #auntjules

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  • Epidural in. Momma feels better. Oh, I’m crying. I’m crying.#auntjules
  • Ah! Push, push, push that baby girl to meeee!!!! #auntjules
  • My phone is dying. I need a phone charger. How am I supposed to live-tweet this thing?! #auntjules
  • Come on, little girl! Slide out! Weeeee! Like a slip n slide! #auntjules
  • Overheard in waiting room: oh just sittin’ here waitin’ on Jenna to push that baby out of her Va-Jean. #auntjules
  • Overheard in waiting room: Back in my day I would just drive and nurse at same time. #auntjules
  • Tried to sneak back into sister’s birthing room. Nurses said no. I’ll be back, nurses. No one puts #auntjules in the corner.
  • Baby Niece – you have 12% battery power to get out of that watery bubble. Get. Out. #auntjules
  • My niece is here! (And found a charger) 6 pounds, 4 oz!! That’s all I know. I’m about to bust down some doors, nurses!! #auntjules
  • Evelyn Fay is finally in my arms 🙂 #auntjules
  • It’s my favorite shirt. #auntjules


Yep – Evelyn was 6 pounds, 4 ounces. Emma was 6 pounds, 4 ounces. My other niece, Gabby, was 6 pounds 4 ounces too.

3 sisters all having first born daughters weighing at 6 pounds, 4 ounces exactly. What are the chances of that?!

Maybe that is why Evelyn decided to come out at that very moment. Maybe she knew her mommy would have pigged out on ice cream with Aunt Jules after Emma’s musical that night. It was some kind of force of nature telling her she needed to come out at 6 pounds, 4 ounces even if that meant throwing a curveball at Aunt Jules. That’s what I get for calling her The Great Bambino.

I love you, Evelyn.

A Twitter Christmas.

I’m back! Did you miss me? Much to the knowledge of all my Twitter followers, we went to my in-laws over Christmas.

I was going crazy. Crazy because I couldn’t shake the feeling I was always hungry around my mother-in-law’s cooking. Crazy because I was bored in a town I don’t know very well. Crazy that an unlimited amount of whiskey was provided at all hours of the day by my father-in-law. And I love whiskey. I was mostly going crazy because I couldn’t sit down and write at my computer. Writing clears my head. I need to write. So I did what comes naturally to my trigger-happy thumbs – I tweeted. Que the eye-rolling of my husband.

For those that don’t follow me, a recap:

Scott’s grandma just said my hat looks like a helmet. #inlawxmas

I have been reunited with my UT grad bro-in-law. This seems about right. #inlawxmas 


Me: Hey you got any beer? Mom-in-law: No, just liquor. #ohdear #inlawxmas

Seriously, in-laws? It’s like they don’t even know me. #mexican #extramild? #wtf #inlawxmas


Husband, watching a fishing show: I wish I was a dolphin. #inlawxmas

Me: I forgot underwear. Mom-in-law: I knew I should have called to remind you! #inlawxmas They know me too well.

At liquor store. Husband grabs a basket. Bro-in-law grabs a cart. Little bro knows best. #inlawxmas

Whiskey and #Kstate bball make me happy. #inlawxmas just got better.

Scott’s cousin: I’m sorry there was no whiskey in my arms length for me to make you a drink. #wtf #rum? #inlawxmas

Excedrin Migrane should just call it as it is: Excedrin Hangover #inlawxmas

It’s Mexican food/margarita night with in-laws in honor of me bc I’m Mexican. Good thing I brought my red lipstick. #inlawxmas

Husband: the movie wasn’t bad. I was just expecting Lincoln to be Top Gun quality. #inlawxmas

Shout out to dogs for taking care of Santa’s cookies for me. They like me to stay fit. Take away the wine, you go outside. #inlawxmas

Fav gifts so far. Shout out to Bill Snyder. #kstate #thankful #inlawxmas


Her dad didn’t shoot Rudolph but Santa made sure Emma could. 😦 #inlawxmas


UT grad bro-in-law and me. Really pumped I can wear this shirt in his presence. I love #inlawxmas. I love #Kstate. 


“Little do you know I have no pants on.” Overheard at poker. #inlawxmas

“I have two queens here scissoring.” Overheard at poker. #inlawxmas

“Wait how do you spell scissoring? — A-W-E-S-O-M-E. Overheard at poker. #inlawxmas

My initials are LSD. Welcome to my world. Overhead at poker. #inlawxmas

“Without having more information, I’m a bigger fan of a twat than a tweet.” Overheard at poker. #inlawxmas

Homeward bound. It’s been real hash tag #inlawxmas

Scott’s family isn’t the only side that provides Christmas entertainment. We celebrated my family’s “Christmas day” this week. You can guarantee I sat in a corner tweeting what I overheard. I mean, really, I’m just documenting the memories:

Dad: I’m just gunna keep farting so I get the couch to myself. #myfamilyxmas

Husband: That looks like a Mexican outfit. Anything that is a lime color. #myfamilyxmas

Overheard at #myfamilyxmas: Papa likes skirts too.

Emma: YES! Art supplies! Dad: Yeah! Keep that cellophane wrapped around it until you get home! #myfamilyxmas

Overheard at #myfamilyxmas: You bastard! You snuck in bourbon! — It’s about to get real, Twitter. #myfamilyxmas

Husband: so does Mexican hot chocolate mean there’s tequila in it? #no #myfamilyxmas

Bro-in-law to bro-in-law convo: Will you lather my beard? – No but I will lather your ass. #myfamilyxmas

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! We are very blessed to be able to spend the holidays with our crazy families.

I will write next year! Sorry, lame joke. I’ll work on it.

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.

Tweet tweet!

I went to my sister’s bachelorette party this past weekend. On the way down, my sister asked me to join Twitter because her and her friends were on it. They just started themselves. It’s the new Facebook.

I already had an account but it was only to read what celebrities said. And honestly, I rarely read it. For fun, I went ahead and tweeted with them.

It’s confusing as hell.

I had to get a crash course on everything Twitter from 24-year-olds. The @ and # symbols are a big deal. @ basically “tags” someone. # will put that tweet in a category where others can tweet as well. Adding a picture, adding a video, and adding an article or website all look like a website link that makes no sense. The whole thing looks like a foreign language. And I’m just now learning how to read it.

I’m still a little confused on the difference between Facebook statuses and tweets. My personal interpretation:
tweeting is for random daily thoughts and Facebook statuses are for announcements or questions for people to respond to.

I haven’t tweeted much since I got home. But I might try it out for a little bit. It is a little addicting when you have a group of friends tweeting as well.

Follow me @ksujulie