Hello, my name is mj, and I am addicted to trashy vampire books.

In the retail book world where I spend most of my time, I have seen many trends come, and many trends go.  Most recently and most disturbingly, there has been quite a trend toward books in which vampires are real and most nearly always quite sexy and then, even though most of them are hundreds, even thousands of years old, these vampires fall in love with insipid high school girls and then gaze longingly at them without doing anything, you know, untoward.

Well, that's what got it all started, anyway.

I tried to like Twilight.  I read the first 10 or so chapters, and besides the general overall feel of ANGST, the thing that bothered me the most was the Ms. Meyer, esteemed author, SPLIT. INFINITIVES.  All over the place.  I just can't stand a split infinitive, can you?

Well, the bandwagon was large, and suddenly the new trend was "vampire romance" novels, the plot of which involved having sex with vampires.  Yuck.  I'm not on board with that one, either.

For years, I avoided the vampire books like the plague.  I felt quite above all that hoopla, and every time someone asked me if I'd read one of them, I answered something along the lines of "Oh, I TRIED to read Twilight, but it's just not my thing."  All the while, I felt quite self-righteous and smug because for goodness sake, I read better stuff than books about women who can't find a live man to fall in love with.

Fast forward.

For Christmas, RJ got me this really cool gadget known as a nook.  I love it.  I can put 1,500 books on it at a time, and it's easy to take with me, and easy to read, and although I am not a paid spokesperson, I'm just a real user, I think it's the coolest gadget on the market now. If anyone out there is reading this and would like for me to become a paid spokesperson, CALL ME!!!! 


Anyway, I handed it off to RJ to download some books for me, and on a whim, I included the Charlaine Harris True Blood series on the list.

Ok, about 20 pages into the first book, I was hooked.

I feel like I'm telling a dirty secret here.  For years I have deliberately made fun of avoided these kinds of books, and now, somewhere in the middle of book 5, I am getting panicky about what I will read when all these are - GASP! - gone.

Is there a support group for vampire lovers?

Hi, my name is mj, and I am addicted to trashy vampire books.

Very unfortunate post-nap hair photos.

Sometimes I forget who I am. But not in a Lifetime movie kind of way.

As I have mentioned a time or two, I work a retail job with somewhat long, variable and unpredictable hours.  I am also a Mama to two wonderful boys, both under the age of 4, and wife to a wonderful husband, who occasionally also behaves as though he is under the age of four who is the love of my life.

All these things, coupled with a house, a car or two, and a desire to occasionally sleep make it hard to remember ME, sometimes.  What I like.  My hopes and dreams.  You know, all that new age-y crap that is designed to help "find yourself."

So, I thought, what better way to find me again than by taking an internet personality test?

Obviously, these things are 100% accurate, right?

So anyway, I answered a series of questions and truthfully as possible, clicked the little "Submit Answers" button, and got this:

You are a cautious realist.

Your attention to detail, appreciation of how things function,  and awareness of the world around you make you a REALIST.

Routines are reassuring to you—you feel safer and more at ease when sticking with familiar things.

You like to stay close with those around you, seeking comfort from familiar faces.

You are interested in processes—how things work, what they do, and why—not just how things look.

Sometimes you doubt that you can find solutions to  problems, although you have a good sense of why things happen, and can use that knowledge to find the best way  to do something.

You are down to earth, concerned more with practical, detail-oriented things than with dreamy or ambiguous ideas.

You have a good sense of your abilities and weaknesses, and don't let your ego get in your way.

Your independent streak allows you to make decisions efficiently and to trust your instincts

You are balanced in your approach to problem-solving, not letting your emotions hold you up.

You much prefer to have time to plan for things, feeling  better with a schedule than with keeping plans up in the  air until the last minute. Your decisions are well thought out, and you're not the least bit impulsive.

Never one to be found in chic boutiques or trendy clothing stores, you take an extremely practical approach to getting dressed.

Generally, you believe that you control your life, and that external forces only play a limited role in determining what  happens to you.

Being independent, practical, and somewhat guarded with others makes you CAUTIOUS.

You tend to keep to yourself, wary of trusting others with personal information.

The values that you hold are central to your identity— you are a very principled person.

You have respect for the natural order of things, and a good sense of right and wrong.

Investigating the world through observation, as opposed  to interaction, is preferable to you.

You have an appreciation for those who have attained a  certain level of accomplishment, particularly the rare few  who have succeeded honestly.

You are efficient—when you work with others, you get down to business, and fulfill your obligations.

You sometimes wish that others would be more like you —less hindered by their emotions, more respectful, and more private.

Ok, so basically, I am an OCD, non-risktaking, boring, poorly dressed, emotionless, unfriendly, stubborn, brutally honest control freak who really shouldn't leave the house much.

Well, I coulda told ya that.

Daddy wins again.

RJ and I both work retail-type jobs with retail-type hours.  That means that on the third Thursday of every month that has an "i"  in it and if there's a full moon, we get a day off together.

Today was not one of those days.

Today, I went to work and left RJ to play video games and surf the internet take care of the kids and such.

And for the 11,000th time in a row, he has managed to trump me and become the favored parent.

Because it just so HAPPENED that I had some leftover rice in the fridge, and it just so HAPPENED that zj loves fried rice, and it just so HAPPENED that RJ decided that today was the day he would learn to make fried rice.

I'm not even going to say anything snarky about how this is obviously lunch and zj is obviously still wearing his pajamas.  I can show considerable restraint when it's necessary.  

Zj said it was as good as mine, but not quite as good as Grandma J's.

I guess I can live with that.

Storytime at 154 Hidden Court.

One might wonder what sort of irreparable damage is being done here.

Oh well...

On This, The Eve Of My 36th Birthday.

I don't do New Year's Resolutions.

There are many reasons.

Mainly, as I have mentioned before, I am a retail clerk, and the week between Christmas and New Year's is something like the Clampetts meet Suze Orman meets a Twilight convention.  Really.  So by the time I get to New Year's, it's about all I can do to drag myself to the kegerator.

I'm certainly in no position to make any sort of long-term plans.

Plus, I'm not so good with the follow-through.  But that's a post for another day.  Of course, you probably won't ever see that particular post, because did I mention that I'm not so good with the follow-through?

Anyway, that brings me to my current topic, which is my birthday.  Which is tomorrow.  Which will make me somewhere closer to 40 than to 30.

Usually, I use my birthday as a time for self recrimination and flagellation reflection.  It's close enough to the new year that I can still feel in the loop when people are talking about their resolutions.

In the past, I have made the same sort of unattainable goals as everyone else - I'll write something every day, grow my hair, cut my hair, lose 20 pounds, exercise more, eat better, manage my money better, spend more time with my family, spend more time with myself... you know how this goes.

But this year, I can't think of one damn thing to do better/more/differently.

I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.  Either 1) I'm so fulfilled I can't think of one thing to change or 2) I'm so numb and apathetic to my life I don't care.

So on this, the eve of my 36th birthday, I am content.  I have Blue Moon draft in hand, I can hear my boys rumpusing in the next room, and I have the next couple of days off from work, with absolutely no plans.

Sounds like a winner to me.

An open letter to those who ride bicycles near where I drive.

First, let me start with this.

I admire you.  I really do.

As a child, I was never REALLY able to master the whole peddle, steer, balance thing.  I mean, I could get down the road a bit, but it required multiple stops, many crashes and a lot  of band-aids.  As I got older, I simply used the old "I'm too short and can't find a bike that fits me right because did I mention, I'M SHORT???" excuse.

I think that people who ride their bikes to work or to run errands or whatever are doing a good thing, both for their bodies and for the environment.

It's awesome.

Really.

However, I have ONE teeny tiny suggestion.

I hope you won't think I'm being too forward.

See, your wiry, thin, 98 pound frame, coupled with your state of the art, lightweight, titanium alloy bicycle frame aren't heavy enough to trip the sensor if say, you're IN THE TURNING LANE, AT RUSH HOUR, TRYING TO MAKE A LEFT TURN OFF THE HEAVILY TRAFFICKED STREET.

Oh, and let's just say that you are maybe NOT PULLED UP FAR ENOUGH FOR THE BIG A$$ SUV DRIVEN BY THE HARRIED BOOKSTORE MANAGER/MAMA WHO IS LATE PICKING HER KIDS UP FROM THE SITTER TO ACTIVATE THE SENSOR, EITHER.  So guess what?  We will probably have to sit there through numerous lights.  Like 6 or 7.  And really, we could avoid all that, if we work together.

It's just a suggestion.

Lemondrop Cake - A Tipsy Cake.

I love to cook, but baking things from scratch is really beyond me.  I. DON'T. MEASURE.  It's a big ole waste of time.  So I have come up with my own way of baking.  It's something like Rachel Ray meets the Cake Mix Doctor meets Otis from the Andy Griffith show.

WHAT YOU NEED:

A lemon cake mix

A can of lemon icing

2 boxes of lemon Jello instant pudding 

some eggs (probably three, but if you just served scrambled eggs for breakfast, and forgot to buy more, two will do)

some vegetable oil (1/4 to 1/3 of a cup)

your preferred lemon flavored liquor (here I used Lemon Drop, a premixed thing, but I have also used lemon vodka)

WHAT YOU DO:

Put the cake mix, one box of the jello, the eggs, the oil and roughly a cup and a half of the liquor in your red Kitchenaid stand mixer.  What?  You don't have a red Kitchenaid stand mixer?  So sorry, no cake for you.

Oh, ok, you can use any mixer you want.

Mix all that mess up according to the directions on the back of the cake mix box.

Meanwhile...

Spray your red springform cake pans with that spray stuff that comes out of the can smelling like melting ozone meets carcinogenic in a can.  You know what I mean.

What?  You don't have red springform cake pans?

You need a new husband.  All this red baking stuff has been gifted to me by RJ.

Anyway, put half of the batter into one pan (red or not) and half into the other.

Bake it according to the directions on the box.

After the cake is done, and cooling, mix the other box of lemon jello with some more of your liquor (1/3 to 1/2 a cup, for those of you with no creativity).  It will look something like this:

Put one layer of the cake flat, scoop all this delightful stuff on top, and put the remaining cake layer on top of that.  

Frost it with the stuff out of the can.

Yum.

This is the most requested cake from RJ's co-workers. 

Of course, they are a bunch of alcoholics, and this cake may get you a bit tipsy.

The Best Part of Being Married.

Minds out of the gutters, people.

Like I would blog about THAT.

Anyway...

There are many, many benefits to deciding to share your life with someone else.  You have a partner in childrearing, a friend to talk to whenever you need to, a housemate, a confidant, a... partner.  Heck, I liked having RJ as a partner so much I married him twice.

But there is no doubt that one of my top three reasons for keeping him around is the fact that he deals with repairs and/or repair people, both of the car and the house variety, for me.  I am normally a very competent woman.  I can pump my own gas, change a tire, tape and sand drywall, lay hardwood floor, and repair a leaky faucet, but for some reason, when faced with a PROFESSIONAL in one of these categories, say a plumber or an auto mechanic or something, I am suddenly reduced to using words like "thingy" and "whasamajig."  I don't know why these folks freak me out so much, but they do.

Recently, as I was pulling in the garage after a long day at work, I noticed - GASP! - that I had a headlight out.

As I walked in the door, I asked, quite nonchalantly I thought, "HiDearhowwasyourdaybythewayIhaveaheadlightout."

I expected immediate action.

I got - "Ok, I'll look at it later."

Really?  Later?  Really?  REALLY?

I kept my cool, but my mind was racing.  What if I had to do it myself?  Go to Autozone?  Not happening.  I had to employ my feminine wiles and go to Plan B.

(Feminine wiles = passive aggressive behavior)


So, a few minutes hours later, I said "So, is it ok if I drive your car tomorrow?  I leave before dark, and I don't want to get pulled over BECAUSE I HAVE A HEADLIGHT OUT."  Serene smile.

At this point, the man instincts kicked in.  That collective consciousness of "Me Man - You Woman" hit and I saw the spark in his eyes.

RJ:  "Oh, I'll run out now and get a bulb."

Me: "Well, I can do it, someday.  Maybe next year.  Or maybe in March.  I think I have a day off in March.  Let's just aim for that.  I'll walk to work until then."

RJ: "I'll get my shoes."

Whew.  Close call.

Fast forward a few weeks, days, hours,  about 45 minutes.

RJ pulls into the garage.  I noticed immediately that there were not one, but two working headlights.

He walks in the door.

Me:  "Thank you, baby.  I appreciate that you did that for me."

RJ: "Well, I had help.  The girl who rang me up at Autozone had to change it for me."

And that's why I love that man.

And THAT'S the best part of being married.

Random Christmas craziness, a photo essay. Because I'm too tired for words.

Christmas came and Christmas went.  Here's a recap:

Ironman the elf came for one last hurrah.

Note the fantastic Christmas morning hair on cj.

Cj was mainly confused by everything.

The wild present-opening began, and superheroes were this year's theme.  Imagine that.

Note the mad present-opening skills.  In this particular instance, all the limbs were necessary, even the legs.

The wild-eyed look began somewhere around 8am and lasted well into the night.

My niece K seemed to enjoy her presents, but I wouldn't really know, since she doesn't speak to me.

Nephew J messed with random gadgets most of the day.

Mama really, really, really just wanted to go home.  As soon as possible, presents be damned.

Aunt B didn't look away from the camera quickly enough, and GASP! It's an honest to goodness smile!

Aunt S sort of lurked around behind the columns.

The monkey suit was a huge hit, and left brown fur all over my house.  It has since been "retired."

 

Christmas with RJ's family was celebrated a few days later.  Aunt A and Baby B were looking very cute.  Baby B is asian.  My children are not.  I am exceptionally bitter about this, and blame RJ's weak genes.

All the J grandkids lined up in a row.

This was taken right after Uncle G dropped zj on his head.  Don't worry, the floor's ok.

Grandpa and Grandma J with cj.

Aunt A and Uncle G got zj not one, but two lovely swords.  Paybacks are hell, guys.

All my boys, intently focused on something.  I'm not sure what.