To The One...

Who has a smile on his face every morning, even when we haven't slept enough and I am grumpy...

To the one who works six days a week and hasn't had a vacation for two years, but never complains about it and even asks for extra work to make sure the bills are paid and we are comfortable...

To the one who cleared out a vegetable garden for me, and lets me do all the fun stuff while he does all the hard stuff...

To the one who lets me sleep in, fixes my car when it's broken, always puts me first, and loves Baron as much as I do...

To the one who chooses what we're having for dinner when I can't make up my mind, goes to the grocery store, and cooks everything, and then packages the leftovers for me to take for lunch the next day...

To the one who rubs my back and listens to me whine when I've had a hard day, and then turns on the radio and fixes me a cocktail...

To the one who taught me how to fish, and more importantly how to have a day off that involves enjoying each other's company and the beach instead of cleaning toilets and laundry...

To the one who laughs while dancing at weddings, even though he doesn't like dancing...

To the one who gives all he has to everyone else without thinking twice...

To the one who makes me happier every day that I took the biggest chance of my life...

To the one who's smile makes my whole heart light up - HAPPY BIRTHDAY!  I love you more than anything.  Thank you for being my perfect one.

xoxo

Jersey Shores Comes to Jax

I can't say what it is exactly, but after living here for two years, it is easy-peazy to spot tourists vs. locals on the beach.  I shudder to think what we looked like when we trucked our pasty white, fresh-from-Georgia butts out on the beach for the first time when we landed in Jax.  I have a horrible image of floaties and zinc stripes down our noses...  ok, maybe it wasn't that bad, but close.  My point is, now that I know what you look like Tourists, I don't like you.  You are rude and disrespectful and you dick up my beach every time you all pile in for your precious little summer vacays.  Point in case happened yesterday, so I thought I might share this fist-pumping experience with you all.

As I have mentioned, Lane and I fish most every day that we have off together.  We have a beautiful secluded spot, a perfectly honed get-up-and-go routine, and most often it's just what we need to get our heads back in order, and "hit the reset button" as Lane says.  This is what "our spot" usually looks like...

Pristine, peaceful, uncrowded, and amazing.  Just the way we like it.  We ususally go on Wednesday, but this week we had a funky schedule and we decided to try our luck and go yesterday (Sunday).  Big mistake, because it was a freakin' parking lot. 

Within five minutes we decided that we just couldn't take it and started driving back down the beach to get the hell out of there.  There were two rows of parked cars, one to the left of the two lanes of traffic driving down the beach, and one row the the right, nosed up to the dunes.  The cars to the left were parked just where the water was lapping their back tires, and the tide was coming in.  For another TWO HOURS.  So basically we have sinking cars to the left with no where to go, two lanes of traffic in the middle, and 50 bajillion people running in and out of all the cars to the right.  In a word, DANGEROUS.  I was freaking out.  I told Lane a million times how scary I thought it was, and that I wouldn't have my kids out there for anything in the world.  Come to find out, a two year old did get run over yesterday - she survived and had no broken bones (???), but still.  Not a good plan.  So after this shitshow, we decided to mosey on down A1A a few more miles and try another, not-so-easily-navigable state park. 

I was not optimisitic, but this park turned out to be MUCH better.  You can only get out on the beach if you have a 4x4 and the beach is really narrow, so not many people will brave it.  Plus the fishing is great!  In addition to a few whiting, a blue fish, and a horseshoe crab, we also caught a bonnethead shark baby!  Very cute. 

We were enjoying the day and soaking up some rays and chatting when a truck dragging a jetski came sliding down the beach behind us.  About 100 yards away from us, the guy driving the truck slung it sideways and backed the jetski right into the water.  I asked Lane if that was even allowed, and we had a brief little discussion about how it's hard to build boat ramps in the ocean because of the tides and stuff and then we went on about our business.  I looked back down there about five minutes later and this is what I saw...

That's right.  The jackass sunk his truck.  Do I hear a "You might be a tourist if..."  YES.  Our Lane's natural inclination was to help, so he went running down there with a shovel.  Thankfully, our park ranger friend told Lane that he'd better scurry back down the beach, because when the sheriff got there he would ticket everyone who was hooked to the sunken truck trying to drag him out.  Hmm.  Good to know. 

A few different people tested the might of their own trucks by attempting to drag this guy out, but the tide kept getting higher and the hopes of getting this dummy out kept getting lower.  Eventually they just gave up and set up their tent and shit and let the truck sit there.  I guess just waiting until the tide went back out?...  Anyway, the longer we watched this whole debacle, but more annoyed I became with these people.  They were clearly from New Jersey.  (That's not the reason I was annoyed with them...  well, not entirely.) 

Lane and I always do the same fishing set up on the beach.  We put our rod holders in the sand about three feet in front of our chairs, the cooler goes in between us, and the tackle box goes beside Lane's chair.  It's like our litle beach nest.  Well about two minutes after I notice this guy stuck in the water, two greasy haired dudes come strutting down the beach towards us carrying a card table.  (Umm card table?  WTF?)  Anyway, they get closer and closer and it is starting to look like they are just going to bust up in our little beach nest (card table and all) in the three foot space between where we are sitting and our fishing rods, and not do the courteous, personal-space-respecting thing, and go around the back of our chairs.  I started grumbling (not so quietly) about how I was going to trip them and throw the card table in the water if they didn't go around, but STILL they marched right in between us and our fishing poles with no reservation.  They were so close that I could see the red on their faces where they'd just had their greasy eyebrows waxed and hear their giant silver eagle medallions jingling on their Mr. T chains.  Gross.

After they brutalized the beach buffer rule, they went on to upset a lovely little family in a small boat right off the shore by running circles around it at about 100 miles an hour the jetski.  They also came so close to the shore that they almost snagged our four fishing lines several times.  They were doing this on purpose, so that they could get close enough to the beach to spray their fellow Jersey Shores castmates that were hunkered down playing Rummy or whatever by their sunken truck.  Then they had the nerve to give Lane a dirty look when he just so happened to cast one of the lines out in their general direction.  It was a real scene. 

Undaunted by my shit talking, they even walked back into our beach nest SEVERAL more times before we left.  I am NOT a fan of personal space invasion, and after the third or fourth time we had to bust a move out of there. 

I have no idea how (or IF) these idiots got the truck out of that sand.  Part of me hopes it's still there, but most of me hopes they got it out, because I don't want that beautiful beach to be destoyed by the gallons of grease that would surely come off of the headrests if the truck was to sink entirely. 

And to you Yankees who ruined a beautiful day on the beach for everyone around you...  the only Snook we need in Jax is a FISH, not a short, orange, obnoxious, poufy-haired guidette.  Keep it on the Jersey shore, k?  Thanks.

Today I Saw...

A lady driving a Subaru Outback station wagon with a bumper sticker that said 'Gourd Artist'.  Seems about right.

A Pirate Minister + Fallic Bubble Wands + A Mini Stroke = Mom's Wedding!

Congrats Mom & Eddie!

The weekend before last was my Mom's wedding.  It was on the beach about an hour and a half south of Jacksonville, in a place that is very special to her.  In fact, the last time she "ran away" and wouldn't answer her phone for about a week, she was there.  We always tenatively wait until she gets back for whatever life-changing decision she's made while there - it's just one of thsoe "change your life" kind of places.  Anyway, that's why they wanted the wedding there. 
Since it was out of town and the sweet bf still had to work, for him it meant driving down on Friday morning, partying like a rock star after the wedding Friday night, driving back to work on Saturday morning (he left at about 6:30 a.m.), driving BACK Saturday night for dinner, then driving BACK again on Sunday morning to be at work by 11 a.m.  I think he only spent about $250 in fuel - not to mention how exhausted he must have been - but he did it all with a smile!  I still owe him sexual favors for this, I'm sure. 
Anyway, the wedding was Friday night and was to be outside on the beach.  It stormed the whole.  freakin. trip. down.  We anxiously kept checking the forecast on our phones and it looked rough.  We began  to wonder if there was a Plan B.  Pshhhhhh.  Please.  So we crossed our fingers and hoped for the best. 

We arrived at the "NO PETS" hotel early Friday afternoon, with Baron in tow.  I could not stand to leave that sweet precious baby by himself and I figured my awesome beach bag would do the trick for sneaking him in and out.  We met my brother and his sweet gf at the hotel and Operation Doxie Sneak-In commenced.  After some ridiculous maneuvering around, we finally got the little pup-pup up into the room.  I promised my bro that he wouldn't bark and Baron immediately pranced out onto the balcony and started woofing down some seagulls.  Whoops.

Trust me - it looks totally natural when you're walking.  HA.

The four of us had a cocktail or two and reviewed our individual wedding duties - KB (KB = bro) was to give a toast/introduction, I was the official photographer for the event and was to read everyone's advice/well wishes cards aloud at the ceremony, and KB's gf was the official "bubble girl".  We couldn't help but laugh at the bubble wands...  though they matched the color scheme perfectly, their uncanny resemblence to a giant turquoise schlong and/or a lightsaber was too funny to ignore!

honestly what would you think?

We headed over to Mom's condo a smidge early so I could get some "before" shots (that's pictures, not jager bombs).  Being the official photographer has it's perks - I was let in on one of the biggest ceremony surprises beforehand...  my uncle had been ordained and would be performing the ceremony!  Now this is awesome for several reasons.  #1) It's just so dang sweet.  My uncle is a tough and proud purple-hearted Marine, but when it comes to his family he is such a softy.  #2)  He loves to party.  He loves Budweiser.  He once told me (and my Grandmother, with whom he was arguing at the time) that he hated water and hadn't had a single sip of it for two years.  For whatever reason, when we would all take big family trips together he would get stuck driving me, my brother, and my grandmother.  Now that I am older, I totally understand why he used a cooler full of ice-cold Bud as his armrest.  Anyway, as we were doing some last minute prep, UT (my uncle) sat quietly on the sofa reviewing his sermon (and finishing a little brewskie) and then when it was announced to me that he would be performing the ceremony he proudly proclaimed, "I haven't even been drinking beer today!"  I glanced over at his empty can on the coffee table and then looked at his smiling little face and said, "Cool UT!"  (What he MEANT was that he hadn't been drinking on the beach all day with the rest of the fam.  I got your back UT!)

Rev. UT poppin' a cork pre-ceremony - hey it's not beer!

Oh and did I mention that UT's robe had a custom pirate scarf?  Perfection.

you may kiss the bride - ARGHHH!

The ceremony itself was lovely.  Miraculously the rain held off and the sun came out for the rest of the afternoon.

The whole crew ready for the bride and groom



Highlights of the reception include Rev. Ted telling my precious aunt to watch her behavior because she's "a minister's wife for God's sake", a toasty Tish (who's been friends with my mom for 47 years, literally) taunting my sweet bf into dancing with her and then mortifying both of us when she shouted across the reception hall that "he must be good in bed", and the mommy and baby toilets in the reception hall bathroom.

he's such a sport!

yes, as the night wore on, they were used simultaneously.

Oh yes and aside from all that fun, the bride and groom did a sand ceremony that involved everyone, Mom's new hubs sang her a song that he wrote for her himself (so sweet), and the toasts were very heartfelt.  My favorite thing (which I don't think was one of the planned "activities") was that a week or two before the wedding, Mom requested that everyone send a song to her to be put on the playlist for the night.  As each couple's song came on they got up and danced to it.  It was really fun to listen to the first part of the song and kinda try to guess who's song it was.  Very cool.

So we had lots of cocktails throughout the course of the night and by the time we got back to the hotel we had just enough energy to sneak Baron out to potty, shove some pizza in our faces, and pass out in time for Lane (BF) to get about 47 minutes of sleep before he had to get back on the road to go to work for the day. 

My beer induced coma peaceful slumber was interrupted shortly after Lane left by a dancing little dachshund just aching to go outside.  It was 9:30 a.m. and as soon as I shoved his pudgy butt into my beach bag and opened the door, housekeeping was bringing the heat.  I had to run down the hall and hide by the ice machine until the elevator was empty.  I snuck on and managed to go down ONE freakin' floor (we were on the 8th) and when the doors slid open, two more merry maids greeted me with a cheerful "mind if we ride down with ya?!"  Ummm yes.  I kinda do.  I managed to blurt out, "I'm getting off here anyway" and shove past them with my twenty pound wiggling beach bag in tow.  I finally conceeded to walking down the remaining seven flights of stairs and got the little baby outside in time to avoid a big doxie dump rollling around in my bag.  I guess my mind was too clouded with residual hopps and barley to think it all the way through, because I didn't consider that once Bear-bear's business outside was done, I didn't really have a non-stair way to get him back to the room. 

O.  M.  G.  Eight mother freakin' flights of stairs.  Doesn't sound like much, does it?  Well, IT IS.  And aside from being grossly out of shape, add in a raging hangover and a chunky squriming dachshund in a bag that is ripping your shoulder straight out of it's socket, and I'm here to tell you that it's a recipe for a 29 year-old's first mini-stroke.  By the time I got to the sixth floor, I was seeing stars.  I managed to work through the jello legs by the seventh floor, and by the time I burst through the door to the eigth floor hallway, I could have given a fuck less if housekeeping was there to bust me with Baron or not.  It was brutal, but we managed to make it back to the room undetected.  Even the sun shines on a dog's ass every now and then, right?  Well, not if it's stuffed in a beach bag I guess...

The rest of the weekend was awesome.  Spent some time during the day on Saturday chilling by the pool with friends and fam, and then we all went out to a lovely dinner at a beautiful place called "The Garlic" on Saturday night.  Well, I say it was lovely...  and it was, but my judgement would be based strictly on the atmosphere and the drinks, because out of a group of TWENTY FIVE, mine was the only dinner that they forgot.  Oh well.  I'm sure I didn't need that seafood cannelloni anyway. 

I'M STARVING!!!



All in all it was a great weekend and a great way to celebrate the start of a new chapter of my Mom's life.  I loved spending time with my family, and especially getting to be all goofy and fun with my bro and his lady.  I do NOT miss toting a baby boy puppy in and out in a beach bag however...  that reminds me - I meant to look into stairclimbers...

I'd truck up 20 flights for that face!

Tonight I Saw...

A pudgy, sweaty kid outside a Mexican restaurant with a puff paint shirt that said 'I survived third grade'. 
Well you know what - I should certainly fucking hope so.  I'm sure that little junior misses section princess is the apple (or Dorito) of mom and dad's eye, but kid if you think that long division and packed lunches are something to 'survive', get the Twinkies ready, because life is going to be a real disappointing shitfest for you.

P.s. I may or may not be misdirecting some anger tonight.  It's been a long couple of days.  Sorry kid.

Irony...

Oh how I enjoy it!

Happy Condo details Mayor, everyone!  (That's auto-correct for 'Cinco de Mayo', if you didn't know.)

It May Not Look Like Much...

But if you could have seen my precious little veggie garden just a few short months ago...  you would have thought it was lost footage from Jumangi.  The sweet bf had this garden idea - I think it was just to give me an outdoor project so he can watch the History channel in peace - and consequently was nice enough to pretend our crappy lawnmower was a bushhog & clear it out for me.  5,000 mosquito bites, one busted lawnmower wheel, and two sore backs later, we are rocking peppers, tomatoes, onions, rosemary, garlic, and chives. 
Although the weeds are a bitch and a half - I am throughly convinced that banana trees would survive should we ever get an a-bomb dropped on us - it is strangely rewarding to literally see the fruits (or veggies, I guess) of your labor.  And after working up an appetite doing all that weeding today, I'm damn sure ready to eat the veggies of my labor too.

Welcome to the Chaos...

It's going to be fun, so check back soon!