Hate

A 12 year old girl committed suicide near my hometown this weekend.

12 years old.

Allegedly it was mostly as a result of bullying, along with the combination of undiagnosed and untreated mental illness.

This shit infuriates me. It's senseless. And avoidable. And it needs to stop. Period. End of story.

As someone who isn't even a parent yet, I am scared to death of raising children in this world. How do you raise confident and strong, yet sensitive children? How do you train them to stand up against this stuff? How do you prepare them to not become a victim of it, but yet also not victimize another either?

I don't feel like I was bullied terribly as a child. Sure, I got picked on. There was one particular family that seemed to have it out for me and my siblings. I remember my senior year when one of the boys told me I'd be better off committing suicide. As hurtful as that was, I still found it within me to make a quick, witty retort. I guess despite all of my awkwardness at that age, I still had a semi-decent sense of humor to back me up. But this kind of stuff isn't funny. It shouldn't be laughed off or perpetuated with more jokes. It's serious. It's real. And it needs to be stopped.

Sorry to get on my soapbox. But my head and heart have been consumed by this today and I needed to write something about it.

What role can you play in putting an end to this hate?

◦

Hate

Suburbia

Well hello there.

I am reporting to you live from the suburbs.

Things are going alright thus far. We still have some moving to do. Mostly cleaning of the old place. Most of the moving itself went smoothly. Except for the torrential downpour on Saturday. That sucked. It will be nice when it's all said and done. A huge shout out to my boys, Tony and Trayl for being awesome and helping out on Saturday. And of course Jungle too. Jesse never would have been able to drink all that beer on Friday night without you. You're a standup Gungle Go, no doubt.

I made eye contact with a new neighbor yesterday. They seem friendly enough. We both smiled. I waved. She waved back. They don't so much look like the George and Abby's of Minneapolis (Hi Abby, miss you guys already!). Pretty sure I won't be knocking on their door at 11:00 on a Thursday night for a night cap. But who knows? Maybe?? I heard another neighbor's dog barking this morning as I was waking up. I always feel relief when I hear other people's commotion. If they're loud then surely they can't get on me for my loud inhabitants. Right? And mine have a tendency to be loud on the regular.

I have lots to do today so I will leave you with a video. Very rarely will you see me in front of the camera. Mostly because I am a goon and subjecting you to that is nothing short of Chinese water torture. Buuuut...I figured I'd share it with you regardless of my annoying voice and mannerisms. No makeup. Hair greasy and unwashed. PBR sweatshirt. I am a classy lady.

A little backstory on the video. I was drinking some wine this weekend and started getting emotional about us leaving Minneapolis. I then reminded Jesse that this place was our first ever married home. Jesse's all, "big whoop" about it. I then tell him that he needs to carry me over the threshold because he never did that when we got married. He refused. Because he's a no fun ninny like that. We then settled on jumping the broom. Because that's the next logical thing to do, right? Totally.

And an obligatory picture of the Bobo boy in his new quarters. He was dirty so we decided to wash him on a low spin cycle. No such luck in washing the crazy off him. It's there for good.

◦

Suburbia

Be nice

I have found myself being so cranky every time I drive. Road construction dominates my every route. I smugly take a different route thinking I have outsmarted the road blocks and barriers. Only to be confronted with another one around the bend. I am embarrassed to admit that today I yelled obscenities from my car at a construction worker. An innocent guy just doing his job. The windows were rolled up so I doubt he heard me. But I did make eye contact and there is no doubt the poor guy caught my sentiment. And then I felt horribly guilty. If it wouldn't have compromised my safety I would have pulled over right then and there to hug him and apologize for my awfulness. Definitely not my finest moment. Because here's the thing--I am sure he isn't loving his life at that particular moment either. Not to say a person can't be passionate about being a road construction worker. And who knows? Maybe hurriedly moving orange cones and dodging erratic, pissed off drivers is his idea of a good time. But my guess is that it wasn't his first choice of a career path. So. All this to say...don't be like me. Don't passive aggressively be a royal asshole to the people who are merely trying to fix things now (albeit semi-inconveniently) in order to make life and commuting easier in the not so distant future. Smile at them. Wave. Open your window and shout a genuine thank you their way. They are people too. And they are just doing their job.

And yes. This was written more for me than for anyone else. It just so happens that I chose to write it on a public forum. On this here blog. Maybe it was what you needed to hear too.

Lesson of the day: Be nice.

◦

Be nice

iPhone photo dump

That's right. I am being lazy. And doing a giant photo dump today. And they are being uploaded via the mobile Blogger ap, therefore I have no idea as to which order they will show up on the blog. Let's just pretend I cared enough to caption them in chronological order.

-- Too many pics of our canines. Sleeping brown and white dog. Other sleeping white dog. Dog with coffee cooly on head. Dogs plotting owner's death if another dressed up dog picture is taken. Dog in a near compromising sleep position. Ya know. The usual.

-- A picture of two pictures I found of my husband when he used to be a gopher. Would ya check out those chicklets? I hate my teeth and truly hope our future children get their father's chompers. They so pwetty (after braces of course).

-- Myself and the Quiring sisters at a Metallica tribute band concert this weekend (don't ask how I ended up there). Why yes, I did buy that hoodie sweatshirt for my husband, but instead took it from him (before he could wear it) and proceeded to wear it all weekend long.

-- Chaz and Jesse hanging out (and almost making out) at Shamrocks the other night. Chaz passed the bar and is now practicing law up here. He and his wife, Hanne moved back and to the same city we are moving to. You can mark that down as a pro for moving to the burbs. One of the few.

-- Packing, packing....and more packing. Story of our lives these days.

-- Lake of the Isles in Minneapolis. I get paid to walk around this lake a couple times a week. In fact I am walking around it right now as a sweet two month old baby girl snoozes in the Ergo attached to me. Best. Workout. Ever. My job rocks.

So I think that's all. My deepest apologies if these pictures upload all wonky.

◦

iPhone photo dump

Gramira and E-Ho

So last night I found myself in the throes of a threeway with two of my very favorite bloggers.

Maybe you've heard of them...

 

We are all in different time zones, yet we still find time to have these enlightening and stimulating conversations via iMessage. And I can't speak for them personally, but I can most definitely confirm that the things we talk about literally make me el oh el. Laugh out loud long time. Jesse is all, "What's so funny over there?!" And then I am all, "Nunya bidness, boy."

Things discussed during aforementioned threeway textversation, in no particular order:

• Internet boyfriends of days gone by. 
• Lusty dreams about people that are not our husbands.*
• Our engagement stories.
• My neighbor getting arrested outside my house (this did happen tonight). 
• Ex boyfriends.
• Husband's ex girlfriends that we may or may not have Facebook stalked at one point or another.
• Food. 
• Farting. 
• Weird noses. 
• Emily being Canadian.
• Emily being Canadian, and turning her into an American. 
• Emily staying married to Steve but marrying Jesse's best friend, Jungle so she can become American.
• Wondering if it's legal to stay married to a Canadian, and also be married to an American. 
• Jealous wife tendencies. 
• Feeding the cat. Ie: Feeding the kitty. 
• Cats that take human sized poops. 

*this was discussed earlier in the week and not last night. 

◦

Gramira and E-Ho

The Tail Of Slim Jim Louie continues...

I am back. With (maybe) the rest of the Slm Jim Louie tail.

When I left you I had just finished introducing you to Mike. The friend I have had since childhood. The one friend that reduces me to that of a junior high mentality. I am convinced that it's endearing, and by no means annoying that a 28 year old woman can't act her age. Right?

Here. Some pictures of Mike and I before Jesse was even a twinkle in my eye. And before I gained my love weight (that ironically I don't love very much at all). My guess is these were taken around 2007 or so. What? You never had photo shoots with your friend at the playground before? You probably should. Duh.

We are kinda grown up now. Sorta. I am married and in a relatively healthy relationship. I used to have a full time job. And I am almost certain I know what I want to be when I grow up. But then again, it changes daily. That's where the "almost certain" part plays in. #winning

As for Mike. He too is in a relationship and has been for the past eight years (maybe longer?). Yep. The one person who has managed to stay with the same person for eight years and they are the ones not allowed to get married. That's straight screwed up if you ask me. But lets not go there. It gets me too worked up.

Mike is now a business owner. He owns a pet food supply and wellness store. I'd like to say he worked his arse off and built it all on his own and with his own money. But that's not true. Yes. He has built most of it on his own, with the help of Rian (his SO), who also continues to work full time as a police detective in addition to his hours at the store. But Mike's dad financed a grand majority of this endeavor. However. This is the most responsible I have seen Mike in...well...ever. And I like it. Prior to this adventure he worked for his dad's company. I knew enough about his old position (and a few of his co-workers) to know that he was mostly a glorified court jester. And me thinks he would have been fired years ago had his dad not owned the company. So suffice it to say, this pet store business was a welcomed change for him.

The store has been open since February and Mike has been in there everyday from early morning to late evening. His dedication to this business is nothing short of shocking. I have witnessed most of it and am so proud of him. I worked in the customer service industry in the past so I have been helping him out a bit more now that I am not working full time as a nanny. It's been fun working with my bestie. Acting like junior highers again.

Is she ever going to get to Slim Jim Louie?? Oh hush, you. Keep reading...

Mike has also been involved in working with a local dog rescue organization since starting the business. He hosts meet and greet days the first ad fourth Saturday of the month where potential adopters can meet the dogs. In addition to this, he helps foster dogs that need temporary homes before getting adopted into their furever homes. I got a call from him a couple weeks ago saying that he couldn't leave the store to pick up his most recent rescue and asked me to do it. Of course I obliged.

I had just ended my job the Thursday prior. I had been in a funk since saying goodbye to the babes. What's the best thing to get you out of a funk? Puppies. Puppies help de-funk any situation. Tried and true cure for the blues. I picked up this dog and immediately fell in love with him. It's not suppose to work like that when you foster. You can get a teeny bit attached. You can love. But you need to be ready to say goodbye when the right family has been found to adopt them. So what do I do? I get him into the back of my car and burst into tears. This dog's story touched me. His life in the pound was soon to expire. Had he not been picked up through the rescue he was set to be euthanized that Thursday. This is a very common occurrence (sadly) but playing an actual (small) role in helping save a dog from his untimely death completely overwhelmed me. I never expected this favor I was doing for Mike to be such an emotional experience. But it was.

They had given him the name Dice. Nah. No thanks. We started calling him Slim, due to his thin Whippet stature. I brought him back to the store. Mike and I bathed him. Gave him a new collar. Loved on him. By the end of the night we were calling him Slim Jim. It just fit.

Here's a video of him a few hours after I picked him up.

Ok. That's enough for now. I got so many positive responses from everyone last time I left you in a Slim Jim Louie cliffhanger. I figured, "Hey, why not one more??!?"There's more Slim Jim Louie tails to tell. Stay tuned!


◦

The Tail Of Slim Jim Louie continues...

A giveaway??

I have decided to do my very first legit giveaway.

Y'all ready for this?

I am seeking larger blogs who charge for ad space to let me buy an ad spot (or you can give it to me if you're feeling gracious) to giveaway on this blog. But here's the catch (there always is one after all). I want to limit the giveaway to smaller blogs who are just starting out. Blogs with 100 followers or less. The ones that are just beginning to get their blog voice (remember those days??). The ones that would love to have their blog read by more people, but don't want to/can't spend the ching ching on advertisement.

So if you are a larger lifestyle blog that wants to participate, please get in touch with me. I would expect you to promote the blogger that wins the ad space the same way (maybe even better!) you would if they had paid for it. This is about helping someone who is newer. Helping them feel welcome in this big, ol' bad blogosphere.

So. Who is game?

Oh. And if you're not a bigger blog who charges for advertising but still want to see this giveaway take off, feel free to tweet or blog about this. I plan on doing it once a month. I think I have May covered already. :)

Oh and as a follow up to yesterday's Slim Jim Louie saga. I will be back with the rest. Eventually. But here is a picture of the booger babe lounging at his palace the other day to hold you over. Oh and as a bonus...a picture of Mike and SJL doing some doga together.

◦

A giveaway??

The TAIL of Slim Jim Louie

Do you ever have a mischievously brilliant idea....that suddenly goes bad? Bad, bad, bad?

Let me tell you the tail of Slim Jim Louie.

My friend Mike and I have known each other since birth. We were born five days apart and (I think?) in the same hospital. Our parents have known each other since before that. They all went to high school together. Word has it Mike's dad and my mom even dated each other for like five minutes prior to meeting their spouses. The spouses they married when they were teenagers, and are still married to today. Mike and I grew up in the same small town our parents did. Went to the same small school. And to be honest, he was a huge jerk to me for most of it. He lived next door to my best friend, Beth and made fun of me relentlessly. Re-lent-less-ly. One time Beth and I were in her pool enjoying a leisurely swim, and letting out our teen angst (am I ever going to get boobs, God??!?) while listening to a mixed taps of Joan Osborne and Alanis Morrisette cuts. Mike saw that as an opportunity to be cool, and throw an opened box of douche in the pool. I am not sure where he got it. My guess is he shoplifted it from John's Supervalu earlier in the day. Yeah. His maturity level hasn't progressed much since then. And nor has mine when I am around him.

Our senior year of high school is when we became good friends, though. Not exactly sure why or how, but we always chalk it up to Mike losing the combination to his locker, and being forced to "move in" and share mine with me. He hogged all the shelf space with his Ralph Lauren body spray and deodorant. Some thought our friendship blossomed because he finally realized how attractive I was. Because he saw me as potential girlfriend material. Definitely not the case (for obvious reasons that would later be revealed to me during the Summer of Love 2002). We even tried to get the most votes as "cutest couple" for the class of 2001. We lost to the homecoming king and queen. We were just friends. We did what most good friends do in high school. We skipped class together, drove around the cemetery (we are almost 30 and may or may not still do this), smoked cigs (allegedly) and rearranged the sign at Dairy Queen that said, "Double Cheese Burger Only 99 Cents" to say "Doble Cheese Cunt Burger Only 99". We were a classy lot.

Fast forward to nowadays and we are still friends. Over the years we would go through times where we hang out everyday. And then I would get a boyfriend and we wouldn't talk. He has seen me through many a heartache. He has even let me move in with him when I was too sad to stay home alone. And now. I love that my husband loves him almost as much as I do. Mike provides me with things that Jesse can't provide for me. While Jesse may know 98% of the things about me, Mike knows 100%. And then some. He is a true friend. The other day I decided to go a day without showering, but was nervous I was beginning to emit an odor. What did Mike do? He sniffed the general crotchal region on my body and handed me his bottle of Victoria Secret Love Spell spray, hinting to the fact that I may want to freshen up a bit. If that's not a true friend, well then I am not sure what is.

You're probably wondering who Slim Jim Louie is. And when I am going to get to him. Be patient. The above paragraphs were scene setters. Some background information. I will be back some other time with how Slim Jim Louie plays into this "tail".

But here. A couple pictures of Slim Jim Louie and Mike.

◦

The TAIL of Slim Jim Louie

Honeymoon Recycle

What do you do when you don't feel like writing original material? You recycle old material.

Jena over at Recently Roached is hosting a cute little link up about honeymooning. I figured, "Hey, we went on one of those. Sorta. Kinda. Maybe I shall link up." And so I am. But I am linking up the post my husband wrote (yes, he used to blog on this here blog on the regular) right after our mini-moon in September. I laugh reading it now because I can see where I had gone in and changed some of the wording around. He's a great writer (much better than myself--which isn't saying much obvi) so I am not sure why I do that. So if you think it reads like a girl wrote it. Well maybe one did a little. Here's the post.

Our mini-moon was quite nice. Relaxing. Brief. We were lame and slept a lot. It was just the little recharge we needed after spending the previous year planning our big fat farm wedding. Why yes, yes that is a link to our wedding pictures. I have been meaning to add the gads more that we own the rights to. Eventually.  Maybe. Oh and also. Check out the transformation of the barn if you're into that sorta thing. I would encourage anyone to do a DIY wedding. Yes. I contemplated jumping into the mighty Mississippi a few times in the midst of it all. But after it was all said and done, it was seriously the best day of our life. I know a wedding isn't about the party. It's about the marriage of two people. I get that. And that was totally achieved. But I will say that we had one of the best parties ever. And how cool that we can just go on back and "rent" our venue anytime we want. In the event that we want to recreate the magic that was our wedding day. Maybe for our ten year.

Go check out some other fab honeymoon posts on Jena's blogeroo. ◦

Honeymoon Recycle

The NKOTB growl

Do we have any Family Guy fans up in here?

I have reluctantly become one since meeting that guy I married.

Today Jesse, Jungle, and I have been taking turns growling this scene.

Oh quit yer complaining. It was only 23 seconds of your life that you'll never get back. And you'll thank me when you're singing growling some NKOTB later on today. You're welcome. In advance.

So before I came home to watch the Twins lose on TV, and pretend we aren't moving in two weeks, I hung out with my gays. We had an impromptu slumber party last night. I know. I shouldn't call them my gays. It's not approp. Pretty sure they don't call me their "straight". However, they have called me several other things over the years, therefore I don't feel too terribly bad when referencing them as my gays. Yes. I claim them as mine. But I do share them on occasion. If you ask nicely.

Here is a mini diary entry that I so kindly uploaded to Instagram earlier this morning. A little highlight into the evening's adventures if you will.

And then after three cups of coffee and viewing the joke that is Fox News, we ventured off to Key's Cafe for brunch, where I consumed a build-your-own-omlette larger than my butt. Interestingly enough, that's the same place it settled in and made it's home post consumption. Great. I jokingly asked for a trough of sour cream to go with my bum sized omlette. The waiter either took me for being legit...or has a very awesome sense of humor. Because this is what I was presented with.

Yeah. Eeeeasily sixteen ounces of sour creamy goodness. I just had a dollop. Promise. OK. Two dollops.

Hope you're Sunday has been nothing short of splendid. Keep it real, homeslices. ◦

The NKOTB growl

Saturday in the park

There is a song by Chicago that goes, "Saturday in the park, I guess it was the fourth of July." Yeah. I am only in my twenties (barely) but I have always loved the old school classics of the 70s. I blame my parents. Or rather I can thank them for instilling a love of the classics in their children. Last night Jesse and I were in bed and I was begging him to buy me the Easy Listening Time Life collection that was being advertised on TV. Give me some Billy Joel, Elton John, Carly Simon, or Fleetwood Mac over that Gaga/Minaj rubbish any day.

Here are some pics from our Saturday in the park. It was all quite wonderful until our 9 pound Bobo decided to snap his 30 pound weight limit leash and chase after a dog twelve times his size.

Looking at these pictures makes my heart swell with Minneapolis pride. Why are we moving from here again?? I don't want to talk about it. 

◦

Saturday in the park

Cursed??

Do you believe that a Friday that falls on a 13th is cursed?

I don't so much.

And apparently this little lady doesn't either.

I have been chasing her around the house trying to get a picture of her, clad in her Friday finest (she had a special presentation at school today), her momma's high heel boots...and an open umbrella. Pretty sure an open umbrella in the house is an omen of bad luck, right? Not to a confident 6 year old. Oh and she is singing All You Need Is Love by the Beatles.

◦

Cursed??

Golf master

Did anyone watch The Masters on Sunday? I caught the last 30 minutes. And in that amount of time got emotionally attached to Bubba Watson. I maybe sorta shed a teeny tear when his mamma ran onto the green shortly after he sunk the game winning putt. Watching them embrace in tears was so precious. Even if he is a bit of an ugly crier. And she looks like she is doing a number two in her pants.

I played one sport in my early years. I was on the golf team in middle school. After watching this tearful ending to the Masters I got a twinge of nostalgia, and hit the Facebooks to see if any of my former teammates had memories to share.

Karla was the only former teammate to chime in. And of course she would bring up this particular memory. 

I still needed to dust the golf clubs off. I needed to release my inner Bubba Watson. Sister had to get her golf on. So with 45 minutes of Easter daylight left, off across the street we went to practice our swing. Jesse caught my swing in action. 

Now. Wasn't that fun? 

◦

Golf master

Tweet tweet

Are you on Twitter? If so you should twaddle on over and start following twalong.

Here. Some sample tweetage.

My handle is @crazy_everafter. If you can't find me that way then mosey on over toward the tabs on the right. The one that says Twitter.And voila! We'll be tweet besties. 

And since the grand majority of my tweets are of my Instagram uploads...well you might as well hop on that train as well. My handle there is @lojerle. 

◦

Tweet tweet

A day early....

Hoppy Easter.

◦

A day early....