Not So SJ Anymore

I've always wondered how memories get etched into our minds. Out of all the things one experiences in life, what makes a certain instance stand out from the rest-- even if it is a mundane one? For me, memories are like snapshots. I actually think of them as Polaroids, for some reason-- white border and all, stored in my mind. One memory that is completely ridiculous that stands out involves Bob Saget (aka Danny Tanner from "Full House"). It was fifth grade and I was making a cake in our tiny apartment kitchen. We had on (an HBO, I think) comedy special featuring his not-family-friendly comedy. For some reason, a bit where he discussed riding the train at the Houston Zoo with his family stands out. Apparently, he could see the conductor's buttcrack. Saget kept repeating "crack in my butt" during his gig. That was all he could think during the train ride. Totally random, totally out of context, but this bit is etched into my subconscious in a way that ...

Once upon a time (okay, several times upon a time), we were invited to a wedding. I threw on my trusty dress I wore for anything that required even somewhat nice clothing and hopped in the car. I have no idea if I did my hair or makeup. I do remember, however, having to stop at the store on the way to the wedding so I could frantically shop for a pair of shoes to wear. This wasn't a last-minute gig; why did I wait so long? I don't know, but running up and down the aisles of Marshall's, looking for something that 1. I could afford 2. that matched and 3. fit really put a damper on the whole afternoon. Let's not forget the wedding we went to where I was newly postpartum with my second child. I wore a pair of ill-fitting pants and a sweater that did not do me any favors. Or the other wedding where I was still nursing but wore a dress that had to be zipped down to get to the goods. The last wedding I attended was 6 or 7 years ago (I believe). I wore a frumpy green dr...

It wasn't that long ago when I was completely unable to think long-term when it came to things such as life and money. In my world, if I wanted something to happen, it did- no matter the long-term implications. I did not know how to live somewhere long term, did not understand the concept of really putting down roots somewhere and having to live through difficult, uncomfortable or just flat-out boring periods of life without grabbing my ball and running home. Still, to this day, that concept of "I'm done here, let's pack up and go" is still very fresh in my mind. It lives in my head, whispers how that grass really IS greener over there (when compared to the dirt and sand of the desert) and I should somehow make that happen. Except...we got a great deal on our mortgage and our monthly payments are low. Really low. Like...wow, I don't think we'd ever be able to replicate this, especially in a higher cost-of-living locale where we'd end up in an $80...

We moved to Arizona from Texas nine years ago this past March. My husband visited first, for his job interview, and warned me things were a bit different than "home." You see, we were accustomed to living in a suburb heavily geared towards families. Our little city is not, to say the least, geared towards families (though it has gotten much better over time). The area's big claim to fame when we moved here was the new Red Lobster that had just come in. People were excited, y'all. Nothing says "good times" quite like chain restaurant seafood in the desert. The first thing my husband warned me was, "there are older people EVERYWHERE." Sure enough, I found this out when we moved here and we'd head to the nearest grocery store. Not only were there elderly folks, but I swear they'd actually hit the gas and speed up when they saw me trying to cross the street with my 3 and 4-year-olds in tow. I quickly taught the kids to never, ever, ever, ...

Several years ago, when my children were very little, I read them the Laura Numeroff book, "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie." Like many children's books (and TV shows and movies) the premise of this book annoyed me: You give an animal one thing and it will want more and more. Me: JUST TELL THE DAMN MOUSE NO, ALREADY! HE MUST LEARN BOUNDARIES! Anyway, the mouse in the book wanted a cookie and he got one. Then he wanted something else, which turned into desiring another item until the protagonist child nearly goes bonkers trying to meet this mouse's demands. I also have to add that "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" and other books such as "If You Give a Moose a Muffin" really don't encourage the fine art of sharing. Why the heck would I give you a cookie if you're just going to end up demanding that I find  fine French macaroons for your pleasure?  Needless to say: We've got a bit of a Mouse + Cookie situation going on in our ho...

Life in Arizona is always a see-saw compared to the rest of the country. Our weather, our seasons, our everything is always out of whack. You're enjoying Fall? Welcome to 100 degrees in October. Winter? We're wearing shorts one day, jackets the next and three days later, it is perfect bbq weather again. Don't get me started on Summer. There's not enough therapy in the world for that. The trees have turned yellow and are refusing to give it up. Our yard is a blanket of yellow pollen-covered flowers, the kind that look pretty but induce an allergic misery that lasts for weeks. The flowers pile in my neighbors' driveways and run down the street in a yellow tsunami when someone drains a pool. The weather is changing; we are quickly leaving months of "nice" for months of "oh god why did I move here?" It was 103 yesterday yet, still, everyone here is refusing to call it "Summer." Probably because it isn't. Summer or not, the winds...