Archive for the ‘Jens’ Category

Dude Where’s My Camera

Filed under: Jens,Work — Amy @ 3:00 pm

So if the title of “Best Job Ever” wasn’t already taken (by moi), it would have to go to my dear husband J, who works for a production company… in an office building that looks like a cross between the Vegas Strip Hotel and Disney World.
As he’s strolling into the office the other day, he notices a multitude of Men in Black standing around with those Matrix ear pieces…oh yeah, and AK-47s in their hands.
It’s the Secret Service for the Czech Republic and the President is at his production studio filming for the day.

Just another day in the life of a production company employee.

On a side note, evidently political correctness isn’t required when working for the Czech Republic. All the employees in the building filed into work that morning and the Secret Service stood there and watched. But when the one hispanic guy that works for the company walked through the doors, they stopped him and asked if he had a delivery or something.


Valentine’s Surprise

Filed under: Confessions,Jens,Marriage,Pregnancy,Secrets — Amy @ 10:28 pm

I broke the news to J at dinner. Here he was expecting a nice quiet dinner out. BU-WHA-HA-HA-HA! I gave him a bag that contained a pooper-scooper*, a pair of infant booties with baseball puffs on the toes, and a book entitled “Father’s First Year.” He had that “deer in the headlights” look all night. He’s so cute that way. But I think he’s excited. He took it better than I did.
By that, I mean he didn’t give himself a stomach ache by jumping up and down and screaming obsenities.
But I’m doing better. I thought it would really annoy me that everyone else is really excited about this news that is going to change my life much more drastically than it affects theirs… but now I find it kind of helps with the anxiety. For some reason I feel that if nobody else is contemplating hurling themselves off a building, perhaps it’s not so neccessary afterall.
J is going to talk to his boss tomorrow to see if it’s too late to add me to the insurance policy. He’s got a really good plan, so it would be great to be on it. That, and the fact that there aren’t any personal insurance plans in Texas that cover maternity, so it’s pretty much company insurance or bust. I don’t like the sound of bust.

*Evidently not everyone is aware that pregnant women aren’t supposed to have contact with the litter box. Hence the pooper-scooper.

How to Make Me Grumpy(er)

Filed under: Jens,Peaves — Amy @ 7:18 pm

Wake me up from a nap and motivate me to get out of bed by threatening to fart on my face. Then ask me if I’m grumpy because of PMS.

You. Couch. Tonight.

PS: I don’t care if you didn’t really have one stored to release.

Martha Stewart, I am not

“I hate housework. You make the beds, you wash the dishes and six months later you have to start all over again.”

-Joan Rivers

I might be having company tonight, so I cleaned the house. Hear that everybody? I CLEANED THE HOUSE. I vacuumed, emptied the dishwasher, filled the dishwasher, dusted the mantle and tables (even the little ones in the bedroom), cleared the countertops (no small feat in our house), cleaned the countertops, watched the dog track dirty paws all over the freshly vacuumed carpet, and mopped the kitchen floor…well, at least the part you walk on.

It’s really not the cleaning part of housework I hate so much. It’s not really the fact that it takes forever to accomplish such temporary results. It’s not even the fact that dirty bathrooms are icky and I can’t stand to clean them (I solve that by putting Jens in charge of bathroom cleaning).

It’s the fact that when I’m finished, YOU CAN’T TELL I EVER DID ANYTHING.

We live in an ugly house. There’s no getting around that. The walls are dark (except for the squares of swooshing pastel textured paper) and the carpet is dirty (and it’s that burber stuff so you can’t tell where you’ve vacuumed), and there simply isn’t enough light in the house to escape notions of living in a cave. So when I’m done cleaning and I wipe my hands and look around…I can’t tell the difference between when I started and when I’ve finished.

So why, you might ask, do I ever bother cleaning in the first place? The answer is quite simple, and it’s the same reason I never cheated on tests and have dreams about assignments that aren’t completed on time.

Guilt. I don’t have enough to make me keep a clean house, but do have just enough to occasionally embark on a cleaning fit. (And yes, I am holding an experiment to see how many times I can use the word “clean” in a single post. Clean clean clean. So there.) I think it goes back to my theory about finding the meaning of life in balance. Some, yes, but not too much.

I dated a guy once who thought I would make a good Mormon wife. HA. He would have been sorely disappointed. I don’t even make a good Baptist wife half the time. I live in constant bafflement at how I managed to secure such a wonderfully patient and laid-back husband. Who is willing to wait until I’m ready to have kids (we’re pretending that he has a choice here).

So I have a (mostly) clean house now. There are still piles of laundry spewing out of the bathtub, which we use as a back-up laundry hamper because the drain doesn’t work…and because it’s one of the few places the dog doesn’t sneak in to steal dirty socks…and yes, because we’re dreadfully lazy people who hate to do laundry. Especially me.

So if you live in Dallas and get an invitation to come over for dinner, it’s because the house is clean and we feel obligated to take advantage of it. Accept that invitation, because you won’t get another one for 6 months.

PS: Please don’t tell me I’m shallow because I’m annoyed that we own the ugliest house in the neighborhood. You would be very wrong. I’m annoyed that we rent the ugliest house in the neighborhood. Geesh.

Local Emergency

I received a phone call last night from Andrea, an old friend from high school. Her brother (who is also a friend of my brother) has been put in ICU here in Dallas due to waking up without feeling in any of his limbs. He was rushed to the hospital and tests revealed that he had an extremely low potassium level (just above 1.1) and the doctors were amazed that he was still alive. Evidently he should have had cardiac arrest before his levels reached that low.

They pumped him full of potassium and he seems to be responding to the treatment. As of today, he has some mobility back in his legs. They are calling in specialists to figure out what went wrong and the theories they were tossing about didn’t sound too appealing. They included a blood leak in his brain, a degenerative disease that could leave him permanently crippled, and other options that were all a little scary.

The fact that he’s responding to the potassium treatment is encouraging though, and we’re hoping the only diagnosis they have to come up with is what caused his levels to drop so dramatically.

Please pray for healing and peace – both for Ryan and his family. He’s still in ICU and the doctors are only allowing 2 visitors at a time, twice a day for 30 minutes, so the family is unable to see him very much.

On a lighter note, I think I get the stupid award for the month. I walked into WingStop last night and paid for my pickup order. And left it on the counter. And I didn’t realize until I got home and had no wings to take inside. So J had to make an extra stop on the way home and pick up the wings.

Proof positive that a day and a half of correcting legal documents can turn my brain to mush. Sigh.

Thank goodness for patient husbands 🙂

PS: Besides low potassium, there are other things that would give you a heart attack…

Back on Track

Filed under: Jens,Makes Me Happy,Marriage,Memories,Work — Amy @ 2:06 pm

I’m taking a writing class to improve my creative and copy writing skills and by all accounts, I really should be doing my current assignment right now (since it’s already a week late). However, I had to take a break from my 3,000 word story that I’m frustrated with right now because I no longer care about the plot or characters I have thus far created. This indicates a major problem and probably means that I should start over with something new, but since I’m short on time, the prospect of starting over makes me groan. I therefore feel obligated to continue muddling through the structure I have already set up.

Anyway, I wanted to take a break to express how happy I am that J has this marketing job. It’s fun to be watching TV with him and when a commercial comes on hear him say “Hey, we did that.” For the first time in two years, he’s not hating his job and for the first time in three and a half years, seems to really be enjoying his job. That’s priceless.

Until May 2003, we were trekking through life at a relatively amiable pace. We were financially and otherwise independent, both working, and had bought a house. Suddenly, our lives were run off the road and brought to a screeching halt when Jens’ boss took a dive off the deep end of sanity. Added to that major problem was also the issue that our mortgage company had originally mis-estimated our mortgage payment and sent us a letter in May stating that the monthly payment would go up by 20%. That was 20% we didn’t have.

Before we knew it, J was out of work in a dead economy, and we had to sell our little house and move to Texas seeking shelter from my parents. We lost everything we had put into the house that we had only lived in for ten months, were unemployed, and J was still recovering from the emotional hell that boss-man had put him through. The situation wasn’t helped by the fact that our beloved puppy, Japp, escaped from the yard the day we arrived in Texas and was killed by a speeding driver.

Since that point, try as we might to get back on the track of life and progress over the last year and a half, we seemed to be doing little more than spinning doughnuts on the side of the road. J bounced from junk job to junk job, each time getting further from his intended field (we soon discovered that the job market in Dallas was not much better than the job market in Seattle) and while I was generally steadily employed, it was never enough to pay the bills. For the first six months of our stay in Texas, I was working for my Dad, and although I enjoyed the job and took it very seriously, I couldn’t help but feel that it was something of a handout. A handout I was extremely grateful for, but I still had the need to earn my own way.

There were times when we were able to save a little money, but something always came along to instantly eat away the savings that we had painstakingly accrued.

And now, J and I both have jobs that we love and obtained “on our own.” Even better, we don’t have to choose each month between paying the bills or paying rent (gasp!). Though it may have suffered some dents along the way, it appears that our little car has made its way back onto the highway and is once again heading in the right direction. Hope is a powerful thing. And God is good.

And now I’d better get back on track with my writing assignment.

About Me

Hi. I'm Amy. I started this website in 2005 as a place to deposit my journal and photos. It has gone through a few incarnations and masquerades as a family site, but since I'm the only one who contributes to it, it's really all about ME, ME, ME.

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