Married Life

Married life. It’s quite interesting. It’s nice to have someone that is happy working our way through all the seasons of “How I Met Your Mother” on Friday and Saturday nights. It’s nice having an automatic partner when we play darts in the basement of the Flying Saucer with our college friends. It’s nice having one other person in this entire world completely understand how obsessed I am with Sparky, because he’s just as obsessed as I am (for the record, he’s the cutest, most loving, little rambunctious terrier on the planet. Even though he can’t have any toys because he’ll eat them all).

But it’s not nice to still find towels draped in random places throughout the apartment. Or to find bowls and plates in the sink that are NEVER rinsed out. Ever. Or to open the lid to the washer and find two wet socks and a pair of wet shorts stuck to the sides. Or to turn the water on in the bathtub and have it rain down on your head from the shower when you weren’t expecting it because someone forgot to turn the knob that switches from shower to tub.

But then again, there are the other nice times when I get home from work, and after Dallas has already left, and turn on the TV to find Cartoon Network, which implies that Dallas had been watched Spongebob or Flapjack or something silly. And then there’s the funny little half-finished sock rabbit sitting on the table that he had to make for a class. And then when I walk by the grocery list on the door and see something like “tangy zip of Miracle Whip” scribbled on it.

Overall, the little cute things far outweigh the annoying things. I’d say Dallas is a keeper, and married life is A-OK.

Of All Things…

I knew that Dallas and I might argue about certain things, but never once did I think one of those things would be over who got to be the one to put the weekly Scrubbing Bubbles Cleaning Gel in the toilet. You’ve seen the advertisement for this awesome little product, I’m sure. You press a tube onto the inside of the toilet, and it leaves a little circle of gel that lasts a week. It’s actually quite cool, and apparently there’s something fulfilling about using that little wand to leave a circle of freshness. 

Sleep Talking

This morning I was awakened at 5:40 a.m. by Dallas. He was shaking my shoulders and he kept saying, “Dusty? Is that you, Dusty?” I was like, “Whaaaat?” Then he said “Ok, good. You’re a full status person.”

Now Dallas sleep talks quite often. It always wakes me up at the time, but by the time I’m up for good in the morning, I’ve already forgotten what he said. But this time it was close enough to the time I actual wake up that I was able to remember it. It was hilarious. Dusty is his little brother, so I guess that’s what he dreams about. As far as the “full status person,” I have no idea what that means. I do know that I laughed at him and he told me to shut up when he realized what was going on. Oh, it was funny.

Pillow Fight

Last night Dallas and I engaged in a conversation that could have easily been from an episode of Seinfeld. This converstation lasted a good 5 minutes, and each statement was even more ridiculous than the last. The problem is that Dallas’s pillow is a little bigger than mine. I have the standard size pillow, but Dallas has a long one. It’s even too big for the pillow case, so part of his pillow is always sticking out of the case. As we were about to go to sleep, I notice, once again, something that he tries to do every single night.

Because his pillow is longer, he tries to position it to take up more of the bed. In a fair world, the bed should be split 50%, 50%. But with Dallas’s dumb pillow, he always tries to make it about 60%, 40%, with the advantage going to him. Here’s the conversation that followed my observation that he yet again tried to cheat me out of my fair share of the bed:

S: Dallas. Come on. You’re doing it again.

D: Doing what?

S: You’re taking up more than half the bed!

D: I can’t help that my pillow is longer.

S: That doesn’t give you an excuse to take up more of the bed.

D: Well, when I line up my pillow with the edge of the bed, it just goes over farther than your pillow does.

S: But you can’t just assume that you get to line your pillow up with the edge of the bed. Of course that would give you more room. The fair thing is to let your pillow hang off the bed a little bit, so that we both have equally proportionate shares of the bed.

D: Well I’m just compensating for the fact that your legs are always on my side of the bed, and I barely have any room for my feet at the bottom of the bed.

S: You’re making that up so you can have an excuse to use your whole pillow on the bed.

D: Whatever, I just can’t help that my pillow is bigger.

Etc, etc.

This went on for a good five minutes before we both realized that this wasn’t an episode of Seinfeld. I can’t remember who won the conversation, but it was probably me. At least this wasn’t as bad as the time that I woke up to find myself completely covered with a pillow. Dallas likes to sleep with a pillow next to his side, and drape an arm over it. I guess he just forgot that I was there, because sure enough, I woke up and didn’t know what was going on. Thanks, hubby.

Married Life

Typically, I get home around 5:30 every evening. Dallas is always either at work or at school, that time, so I am lucky enough to come home to find little remnants of Dallas that he has left throughout the day. Without fail, this is what I find almost everyday:

• A wet towel piled on the back of the couch.
• A dirty glass with either juice in it, or some sort of smoothie made from the Magic Bullet. Or an almost empty Diet Dr. Pepper can, with enough left to cause a problem if Sparky gets up there and starts to investigate.
• Dishes in the sink that have not been rinsed out. Just to let you know, dirty, wet food in the sink absolutely grosses me out to the max. If it’s too bad, I’d rather throw out a tupperware container, rather than wash it out and use it again. It’s just one of those things. I nearly throw up.
• Beard hair in the bathroom sink.
• Dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, often laying on the ground RIGHT NEXT to the hamper. I can’t even begin to understand that one.
• If Sparky and Dallas have been running around together during the day on one of Dallas’s breaks, I’ll also come home to find numerous black socks strewn across the floor, and Sparky’s food bowl will also be hidden somewhere in the living room. On unlucky days, there will also be one of my bras under the couch, because Sparky has quite an obsession with bras. It’s weird.

These are just a few things. Granted, it’s not that bad, and it’s not every single thing, every single day. But it’s at least one thing every day. I’m training him, though. He is getting  very good about the dishes situation, because he knows that I just can’t handle wet, bloated food in the sink drain. Oh geez, I’m getting sick just thinking about it.

The good things about married life far outweigh the little annoying things, however. I’m not going to make a list because that would be too long, but one of my favorite things is in the mornings after I’m ready, and Sparky is running around, I’ll put Sparky up on the bed with Dallas. He’ll bounce along and make his way toward Dallas’s head, where he will attack him with licks and tail-wags and snuggles. Sparky loves it, and it’s pretty hilarious to watch. It’s also nice to have a handyman around when I need to hang up curtain rods or pictures, or when a really awesome, newly purchased lamp needs to be put together. And ya know, Dallas cooks a lot better than I do, so there’s that.

Stay tuned for more tales of Dallas’s housebreaking.

So, I’m married.

I sure am. I’m married. And for all the worry about the weather that day, it sure turned out fabulous. I literally could not have asked for more perfect weather. It wasn’t hot, and it wasn’t windy. The sun was shining, and the ceremony ended just as the sun was headed toward the horizon. Lance Johnston got some great pictures of Dallas and I walking down a row of the orchard, into the sunset. He showed us some of the pictures he took, and they looked absolutely amazing. I can’t wait until they’re all ready to go, and I get a big ol’ wedding album.

The honeymoon in Forks, Washington was just great. The weather was cool and misty, and it was beautiful up there. Of course, one morning I had to take the time to go around the town and take pictures of Bella’s house, Edward’s house, Dr. Cullen’s parking spot at the hospital, and head to the chamber of commerce and take a picture with the “Vampires Thrive in Forks” banner. Dallas was a good sport about it. He kept asking me about Twilight, and by the end of the honeymoon, I had told him pretty much the whole thing.

So now we’re back, and I’m really happy because I no longer have to plan a wedding. Now I get to hang out with my husband and my puppy all the time.

Oh, I also have a new twitter account. You can find it here: www.twitter.com/shannajones

T-Minus 7 Days…

I get married next Friday.

Did you catch that?

I get married next Friday.

No longer will I be Shanna Michelle Wooten, the person I’ve been for 22 years. Starting next Friday, I’ll be Shanna Michelle Jones, the person I’ll be for the rest of my life.

I must admit, planning this wedding almost entirely by myself was not something I enjoyed. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say that I just plain disliked planning this thing. I’m a perfectionist, and I stess out about the smallest things, and those two personality charactistics, when combined, do not make for a fun experience in wedding planning. I mean, I got shingles in 3rd grade because I was stressing out so much about my grades. Who gets shingles in 3rd grade? Shingles is for old people, right?

Anyway, from the moment I began planning this wedding, I have been worrying and stressing out over it, trying to make sure everything is taken care of, and everything goes perfectly. But right now, I’m to the point that I don’t care if it goes perfectly or not. I just want it to go. What if it rains on the wedding day, and it’s an outdoor wedding? I don’t care. We’re getting married that day, one way or another. What if some little detail doesn’t go according to plan? I don’t care. I’m emotionally, physically, and metally exhausted at this point. I’m just trying to get through the next few days.

I don’t even know where I’m going with all of this. It’s just a bunch of jumbled up, random thoughts. That’s what my brain has been like for the past month or so. I’ll be thinking about one thing, and something about that spark another thing, and before I know it, my mind is going in 10 different directions.

All I can say, is I’m ready to be sitting in the window seat of United Airlines flight to Seattle Washington, on Saturday, September 20. Maybe then I can relax and ENJOY the wonder of marriage.

Randomness

In the last year I have discovered several things that quickly made it up the list to become some of my FAVORITE things in the world. Since I am here at work, bored, with nothing to do because my boss is out of the office, I guess I’ll make out a little list. I’m sure I will edit this a million times today, but at least it’s something to do, right? And by typing on my computer at my desk, it makes me look like I’m really busy working on something.

• Banoffee pie. I had my first little taste of heaven when I was in London last July/August. Now I’m not a huge fan of banana desserts. I mean, to me, if it ain’t chocolate, it ain’t dessert. But whatev. I figured I’d give it a shot because it was a British dessert, and if there is one thing the Brits do right, it’s their dessert. So out comes this banana/toffee/whipped cream thing, and OH MY GOODNESS. It is seriously the richest, sweetest, most wonderful thing I have ever had. When I got back to the States, I wanted to make one so bad, but I could only find recipes that used the metric system, and let’s face it: there’s a reason I got a liberal arts degree. I’m not much for math or science or converting or anything like that. But Paula Deen saved the day and provided a recipe using CUPS and TEASPOONS. Actually, her recipe was a little complicated, so I combined it with another I found and the end result was scrumptious (if there was ever a time to use that word, it’s now). The recipe is quick and easy, apart from the fact that you have to boil two 14 oz. cans of sweetened condensed milk for an hour and a half. But anyway, the point of this story is that I made banoffee pie and it was amazing, and I was proud of myself. I think I was even more proud of the fact that I managed to find “heavy whipping cream” at Wal-Mart by myself, without having to ask someone where it was.
  
• The Heather and DC Show. The only morning show I ever remember really loving was John and Zack on B98 when I was in elementary school and junior high. Then Zack left and it became John and Jen, and it lost its appeal. After that, I kind of boycotted radio for a while, and especially when I got my iPod. Now I had always heard of Heather and DC on Alice 107.7 (Little Rock). Everyone around here has heard of them, I think. But I hated Heather with a passion. I mean, I couldn’t stand to listen to her talk. I don’t know why. But then I started listening a little more, and before I knew it, I was completely obsessed with Heather and DC. Heather is hands down one of the funniest women I’ve ever heard of, and when you combine her and DC, it’s just pure entertainment. Throw Poolboy in the mix, and it makes the morning commute to Little Rock not only tolerable, but enjoyable. I mean, I’m excited to get in my car and start the drive, because I get to listen to Heather and DC! I love them so much that I permanently moved my iHome to my desk at work so that I could listen to them until 10:00, when the show ended. And I don’t leave my car to walk into the building until a commercial break or a song. Now that’s the sign of a good morning show.
  
• Steamed Broccoli. Ok, this is one thing I never thought I would have a love affair with. Growing up, my parents were never real sticklers about making me eat vegetables. We had an endless supply of Little Debbies, and my mom would let me drink Sprite for breakfast and when my brothers got suspicious, she’d tell them it was water. I grew up on fried food and the thought of steaming something was just foreign to me. Steaming vegetables and whatnot was for fancy folk in pricey restaurants, right? And come on, you’re telling me that steam is all you’re going to do to cook up those veggies? No thanks. I carried this snobbery about steamed broccoli with me until November of my senior year in college, which was less than a year ago. Then Dallas (who is now my fiancee), asked me out on a date after I took care of OTHER business (ahem), and after we bonded over several episodes of The Office. Part of our first date consisted of him cooking dinner for me. (Sidenote: I was very impressed and quite smitten by this point already). The dinner was lemon-pepper chicken, couscous, and disgusting healthy steamed broccoli. What was I going to do? He went to all this trouble of steaming this broccoli, and I was going to have to tell him that I didn’t like it! Now, I’ve been that person all my life (you know, the picky person, the person who always finds something wrong with a meal, who will never eat everything someone offers), and I really didn’t want to be that person on our first date. So I made the decision to suck it up and eat as little broccoli as I could get away with and still appear grateful. So this is what I did. But what was this? This broccoli didn’t make me gag. It didn’t make me want to spit it out. In fact, it made me want more of it! I’m pretty sure I ate more broccoli than anything else that night, and this is when I realized my love for steamed broccoli. So thanks, Dallas. And thanks to Birds-Eye for making those microwave steambags already full of broccoli.
  
• Blogging. I really love it. I could spend all day perusing through strangers’ blogs. Who are they? What are they like? What was their childhood like? I’m not a stalker, I swear. I’m just genuinely interested in what people write about. I look forward to new posts by favorite bloggers (Amy) every day, and I’m always a little disappointed when there is no new post. No pressure, though. And I love reading people’s blogs so much that I’m setting my mom up with one this weekend so I can read hers. I also have a goal to get Kathleen involved in this world (sorry Amy, but she’s entertaining). I love blogging so much that if I were to make a pro/con list for doing something new and unexpected, like moving to Alaska to teach for a year, blogging would be a pro. I would consider moving to Alaska just so I could blog about it. Dallas asked me the other day if I would mind going to Alaska for a while (his family is from Alaska), and the first thing out of my mouth was, “I could blog about it!” As you can see, it doesn’t take much to get me to agree to ideas like this. Anyway, I used to be an avid Xanga user, and then I stopped when the Facebook phenomenon happened, and then I had a blogspot when I went to London, and now here I am. I just can’t stay away.
  
• Indie Pop. This is my #1 choice of music genre. And of this #1 choice of music genre, The Format is my #1 favorite band of all time. Ok, to be fair, they’re actually tied with Dashboard Confessional because I can’t pick one over the other. (Sidenote: I was hooked on Dallas when he heard 3 seconds of my Dashboard ringtone, “The Best Deceptions,” and proceeded to pull it up on his iTunes. Dashboard is pretty special to us, and if you get a wedding invitation, some of their lyrics are on the inside of the front flap). Anyway. The Format is completely and utterly amazing and FUN and I am absolutely brokenhearted that they broke up. But I can listen to their music and I am suddenly 21 (like it was so long ago) and walking across the street to hang out with this really cool guy I just met named Dallas, who loves the same things I do and turned me on to this really cool band called The Format. But anyway, indie pop. Death Cab, The Format, Imogen Heap, The Postal Service, The Shins, Sufjan Stevens, etc. It’s all wonderful.
  
• Sparky Jones. I haven’t even had my Cairn Terrier puppy a whole month, and I have no idea what my life was like before this little rascal. The first two weeks were terrible, with the pooping and peeing in the house all the time. But now that he can hold it for longer in his crate, and now that he rings a bell every time he has to go outside to go potty, it’s pretty awesome. He has the best personality I’ve ever seen in a dog, and he’s so smart, and he’s so incredibly cute. The best thing ever is when I wake him up from a nap, and he’s still really sleepy, and he makes little grunting sounds when I pick him up. Man, that’s the best. And I’m completely obsessed with him. I know I am. It’s just that I’ve never had an indoor dog, so this is new to me, and I love it. That’s why Sparky gets the expensive Canidae all-natural dog food, and that’s why I boiled him a chicken tenderloin for breakfast this morning. Dallas thinks I’m a little ridiculous at times, but he’s my puppy and I just can’t get enough of him.
  
• Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends. One of the greatest shows ever, even if it does come on Cartoon Network. It’s clever and wacky and hilarious. I admit, it scared me a little bit at first, but once you get past the strangeness of it, it’s so good. My kids will definitely watch this show, and I’ll watch it with them. Once again, this is another favorite thing influenced by Dallas.
  
• Entertaining Websites I Visit Daily/Weekly. This includes Dinosaur Comics, PostSecret, Stuff White People Like, LOLcats, Feministing, That’s Punny! (by the way, I totally had this idea a year ago and I never got around to starting it), Passive-Agressive Notes, Cute Overload, etc. This all provide me with a good deal of amusement, especially LOLcats.

Poop and Presents

Sparky is making progress. Instead of pooping in his crate and stepping all in it, now he poops in his crate and then covers it up with his puppy pad or whatever else is in there with him. It’s a start. At least that shows me that he doesn’t like laying in his own filth. I think we’ve reached a great milestone. In addition to that, we rarely have any accidents in the house anymore. The bell system is working, and at least now when he needs to go to the bathroom, he’ll go stand in front of the door. This isn’t foolproof yet, but I can at least let him wander into the kitchen without worrying about whether or not he’s going to leave me a surprise.

But seriously, Sparky is just the best thing. Everyone who sees him thinks he’s the cutest thing in the world, but he gets to go home with me. Getting a puppy was a good decision. I love that little guy.

On a different note, wedding planning is coming along nicely. I think. I mean, I thought I was almost finished, so I was just taking it easy and not really worrying about anything. That is, until I wrote a list of every little thing I had left to do, and the number was close to 40. 40 Things! It’s almost overwhelming. But it feels really good to cross a Thing off of my list when I finish it. Like when I ordered my wedding invitations (simple seal-n-sends), and when I ordered my bridesmaids gifts (which are super cute). Never mind the fact that while I ordered their gifts, I also added a brown, quilted tote bag with my new monogram embroidered into it in orange thread (SMJ, woo hoo!). But I deserve a little reward for being so responsible and efficient, right?

Introducing Sparky Jones

After a little convincing and a lot of driving, Sparky Jones came home with me yesterday. I had to drive to Social Hill, Arkansas to get him, which is about 20 minutes past Malvern. That’s a lot further away from Conway than I had originally thought. The long trek was worth it, though, when I pulled up and saw three little Cairn Terriers running around. I picked the cutest one, of course, and man, he’s so tiny and cute. I had a cardboard box with a towel and a toy for him to ride in on the way back, but he would have none of it. I ended up driving the hour and a half back to Conway with a sleeping puppy in my lap. 

In case you don’t know what a Cairn Terrier is, think Toto from The Wizard of Oz. While that is the most famous example of the breed, my favorite example happens to be from I Love Lucy. Little Ricky’s dog, Fred, was a Cairn terrier. In a nutshell, they’re the cutest terriers out here, hands down. I don’t have any pictures of Sparky uploaded yet, but I found a picture online to give you an example. It’s pretty much what Sparky looks like, except he has a black muzzle, black feet, and black ears.

 

So there ya go. Sparky Jones. He’ll weigh about  14 pounds when he’s full grown. Now begins the awful task of housebreaking him.