Bachelorette Party

Everyone else doing shots and dancing in heels, and we’re here, like, this sandwich shop is open to 2 am, and we are hungry.

A friend is getting married soon, and for her bachelorette party this evening, I was asked to make a cake. A certain kind of cake. Because I have a certain set of skills, I agreed to make it. In my kitchen last night, the following conversation took place.

Dad, joining me in the kitchen: “Hey, Julie. What’cha up to?”
Me: “Baking a penis cake for my friend’s bachlorette party.”
Dad, giving me a hug: “I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished in your life.”

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Married Life

I call this photo “Waiting for Word.”

I told Martin that our washing machine is broke. He asked me a dozen questions.

Finally, I said, “You know? Now that I think about it, I have never touched a washing machine in my life. You better go check it out yourself.” Continue reading

Kinda Related

Me: “Hey, your birthday is a few weeks away. Take a selfie with me to see if maybe we kinda look related now?”

[A few seconds later…]

“Yeah…no. Nope. Still taking after your Dad’s side of the family.”

Anyone else in disbelief this girl is gonna be 15?!?!

Chit Chat about Basic Training

Photo during my basic training in February 2000.

I started my morning yesterday with coffee and chit-chat with my coworker’s daughter, who is heading to Air Force basic training in a few weeks. We did the math: she was THREE WEEKS OLD when I arrived at Lackland AFB back in January 2000. I must seem ancient to her, but I like to think my advice is timeless. What an exciting time for this young lady!

I told her to be wise in choosing a battle buddy, and later, good mentors. Seek out those who are level-headed, optimistic, and genuine.

It’s pretty crazy to think that the people I went thru basic training with … if they are still in the service, they are probably thinking of retiring in the very near future. Isn’t that crazy?

Crazy.

TBT: The Mullet

Today’s Throwback Thursday photo goes back to when I was sporting an impressive homemade mullet. 1987ish, maybe? I still have my front baby teeth, so may have even been 1986 around the time my youngest sister was born. I have no memory of this photo, although I am certain I was ordered not to smile for the corner pose, resulting in that “mouth full of water/I’m about to spit” expression.

Also? Hello to my two sons. You both are definitely mine.

Murse

Martin: “I like your murse.”

J: “My what?”

Martin: “Your man purse.”

J: “I made it myself. For my rocks.”

Martin: “That’s awesome.”

J: “Know who else made a murse? Ötzi, the frozen man. For his arrows. Only his was made of leather. Mine is yarn.”

Commute Jam

Listening to my own commute jams in 2013.

While walking thru the parking lot to my office this morning, I passed a flashy European sports car with the driver still inside, leaning back against his head rest, eyes closed, listening to Sarah McLachlan’s “Adia” at top volume all the way to the end before turning off his car, stepping out, and joining the herd into work.

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