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Entries in college (6)

Monday
Apr182011

To My Wife On Our Anniversary

On this day, 13 years ago, I married my best friend.

We started out as high school sweethearts.

Then we went to separate colleges only to see each other about once a month or so.

Despite the fact I did everything in my power to look like a complete and total douchebag...

Example A "The Chops"

...we remained together, eventually moving in with each other after graduating college.

On April 18, 1998 I married the woman of my dreams.

Since then I’ve enjoyed the hell out of making two beautiful children which my gorgeous wife unfortunately had to spit out of her amazing body on two painful occasions.

Dear Kim:

I still get all tingly and stuff thinking of the first time I saw you as you cruised across the classroom in your tight white jeans.

I still get all tingly when I wake up before you, open my eyes, and see you in the early morning sunlight.

You’re so beautiful.

I’d kill to have even half the confidence you have.

I’d kill to do this all over again once it’s all said and done….with just a few tweaks and changes….

I can’t pass your pillow without burying my face in it.

I’ve lost count of the times I’ve smelled your bathrobe.

Your laugh is infectious.

Your smile is gorgeous.

And your style as a mother is absolutely award-winning.

You rock the hell out of non-kid time

And when it’s complicated you’re sympathetically smart.

So, in short….I love you.

I love your smile.

I love your eyes.

I love your voice.

Holy hell do I love your smell.

I love watching you as a mother.

I love that I’ve been able to watch you grow into an amazing woman.

I love you Kim.

I couldn’t imagine my life without you as my best friend.

Love,

Justin



Wednesday
Mar022011

The Journey To A Warm Sunny Morning

Last night was just hard parenting night.

The boy was studying for his science test, which to us seemed like he was studying for his MCATs.

The daughter? She was spouting sentences beginning with “Can I have…”faster than Lindsay Lohan’s right hand in a jewelry store.

The wife? She was looking at me with a tear in one eye.

Me?

I tried to find my happy place.

And once I’m there, I just know that one day…

I’ll slide into my favorite chair on the back porch, in the sun, placed in just the right spot where I perch my feet perfectly enough to rest my head back just enough to feel the warmth of the morning sun.

The smell of coffee and the amazing sounds of South San Gabriel engulf me.

It’s the year 2022, my youngest left for college a week earlier.

The dining room is filled with family picture books, empty bottles of wine, wet floor-boards from last night’s tears, and the wife is still sleeping upstairs comfortably.

When I open my eyes I see the boy walking towards me with his bike, sporting his grey helmet saying, “come on dad!! Let’s go for a ride!”

His innocence and love to share life with good people immediately warms me.

And when I close them I see my daughter in her pretty fancy red dress running up to me, turning around and saying “zip me up daddy!”

Her raw emotion, passion and love makes me want to just hold her.

I’ll reach down, grab my cell and send them both just simple text knowing damn well they’ll see it hours later when they finally creep out of their college, stank-filled beds. They’ll probably shrug it off, maybe take a second to respond, possibly post it on a future “I wish my parents didn’t have a damn cell phone” blog site.

But the hope is that when they see my text: “I love you. Rock life and make yourself proud. We already are.” – they remember…

The tall goofy bastard who tickled them early in the morning until they peed themselves.

The stories I made-up late at night based on any three things they wanted.

The fact their mother and I were there…for everything…proudly.

And I’ll miss them.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be glad they’ve moved on and badly wishing they took the damn dog with them.

But I’ll miss them.

Everything leading up to that warm sunny morning…is the shaping of lives and the creation of memories.

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Wednesday
Sep082010

Words That End In "Yuuah"

It’s gotten to the point where I go to work and am all, “I know, but I called him two days ago-yuuah!!” in a really whiney voice.

That’s what our seven-year-old has done to not only me, but the wifey and daughter.

Take a walk back to non-kid days with me.

It’s Saturday in our 850-square-foot apartment we comfortable fit into. It’s 10:30 a.m. and the wife and I have woken at the same time. Tossing bad-breathe in the air like it’s Chernobyl on crack we laugh and remember back to when we were kids.

Wife: “You remember when you’d be all, ‘fiiiiiiinnnnneeeeyyuuuuahh!!’ at your mom?”

Me: “Are you kidding? I was the king at adding the ‘yuuah’ to the end of anything. Essentially it’s the closest a kid can get to ‘fuck you’ without getting jack-slapped into the next century.”

And so it became our “thing.”

Example Numero Uno:

Me: “So, you uhhh….you wanna fool around a little?”

Wife: “FIIINNNEEEEyuuah!!!”

Example Numero Dos:

Wife: “Honey, please take the garbage out before I cut you!”

Me: “FIINNNEEEEEyuuah!!!!”

I’d toss out example number three but Google’s being a bitch in telling me how to say “three” i.e. “tres” in Spanish.

Didn’t you hate when your professors used to say “i.e.” in college? I’d use it all the time with the wife and friends and I won’t lie, I almost got stabbed at a party one time using “i.e.” as part of my fighting vocabulary.

But I digress. And holy shit I’ve gotten off track.

The bottom line, all that “fiiiinnneeeyuuahh” stuff’s gotten us in to one hell of trouble. It’s the boy’s new favorite ending to every sentence.

Even so much so that our neighbor’s kick-ass kid who’s three calls my five year-old “Macy-yuuuuah.”

So, our family has embraced it. The other day we spent the day ending all our sentences with “yuuah.”

Daughter: “I gotta go boom boom daddyyuuaahh”

Me: “Hey look honey! If I see you naked, then jump up and down I can make three parts of my body clap at once-yuuuah”

Wife: “You scare me-yyuuuahhh”

Sure, we’re teaching out kids the improper use of language.

But in the end, it was so freakin’ awesome to see my son use his sense of humor to laugh at himself, which in turn will cause him to stop doing it.

At least that's what the book How To Parent Like A Champion said would happen.

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Monday
Aug162010

I Sleep Naked

Grab your puke buckets kids cause it's true.

I sleep naked.

Call it being sexually hopeful mixed with trying to be comfortable and add a dash of hating to wear clothes and walla! You’ve got a 35-year-old douche with back-hair his wife won’t shave for him who occasionally gets sweaty-ass syndrome when he’s nervous sleeping like a neurotic bear.

I remember in college when my roommate used to go home for the weekend I double and triple checked the door to make sure it was locked, slid out of my boxers, climbed into bed, and dozed off into slumber land with a huge stupid grin on my face.

When the wifey moved in with me I spent a few months being hesitant about revealing my love for sleeping naked.

“What if she thinks I’m gonna try and molest her in the middle of the night and gets all Lorena Bobbit on me?” I thought.

Shortly after, I dropped trou and never looked back.

Then we had kids.

When they were babies all was good. They had no idea at 2:16 a.m. as they screamed and cried while I changed their diaper and the wife dropped a boob in their mouth that daddy’s ding-a-ling was swinging free.

As wee toddlers they’d come in the bedroom but were too small to actually make the long-distance journey to the peak of the bed which gave me ample time to do a pillow tuck and cover.

Then…they got older.

This past weekend I woke-up and followed-through with my religious morning routine which encompasses time alone kidless and wifeless as they lay slumber above my head. A couple hours later as the wife came to life she said, “you really need to start wearing underwear when you sleep.”

I was all, “over my dead body woman!”

“Well, your daughter came into our bedroom last night and you were laying buck-naked on top of the sheets, on your back, with your entire package presented for the world and your daughter to see. And she saw… She saw it all.”

And that’s when it hit home. Sure there’s the occasional turn the corner while daddy’s getting out of the shower and see a split second of his pecker before the towel blocks the horror. There’s the walking in while daddy’s just finishing pulling up the undies and seeing a milla-second shot of his ass before boxer-briefs do their job.

But nothing. NOTHING. Is like the scaring of a young girl sleepily walking into her parents’ bedroom at 2 in the morning and finding her father counting sheep with his “sheers” laying flaccid for the world to see.

Well…I guess the only other worse scenario is if she caught her daddy actually using those “sheers” on mommy.

So chalk-up another long-loved comfort gone out the window. I now sleep clad in cotton and am none-to-happy about it.

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Thursday
Mar042010

Glitter Bitches! 

I’m a huge fan of being on the pranker side of a good prank. Although, when you choose that route in life, you so very often become the prankee, which requires humility, humor, grace, and the rare ability to not get such an itchy trigger finger. Qualities I’m so very far from mastering.

The other day, the wifey stopped off at a grocery store to look for a type of tea that might help curb her appetite.

So she buys “Dieter’s Green Herbal Tea,” a Triple Leaf Tear-brand product. She goes to work, heats up some water, drops the tea-bag in, lets it sit all day, and slowly sips her delicious, thinning, super tea. Later that day, she (how do I put this delicately?) throws-up out her ass for hours and can’t figure out why.

After recalling her day and doing a little detective Google research, she found out this type of tea is a super ninja natural laxative stuff. And the longer you leave the tea-bag in the water, the harsher it is on your system.

All I could think was: Holy shit this is the greatest freakin’ prank tea in the entire world!

And as I drifted off to sleep that night, I couldn’t help but reminisce about other wonderful and memorable pranks I’ve pulled off or experienced…

Glitter Bitches!

Before our children were born one of my wife’s college roommates came up for a visit. So naturally we threw a party. Tons of people were hanging in the backyard, good music, great beers and wine, tons of laughing… I’m sitting on a lawn chair, half-shnockered when the wifey’s lovely and talented roommate calmly walks by me, stop, turns, and shoots both her hands towards me like a crazed spiritual healer and yells “Glitter Bitches!”

Within a matter of 1.3 seconds, I was covered from head to toe with glitter. To this day, I still find a random flake of glitter in my clothes.

You have a message!

During my first job I was a writer for a weekly newspaper. Small staff, no budget, two phone lines, no answering machine, and the editor’s mother was our receptionist. After returning from an interview, there would undoubtedly be a stack of pink phone message thingy’s that have who called, why, when, and return number on them.

Occasionally, I’d leave one on my editor’s desk with an important person’s name and reason they called. Then the beauty of the prank comes in. I’d put 1-800-, and then make up a three letter word, followed by a four letter word that was sexual—HOTT-SEX, BIG-TITS, GAY-LOVE—find the corresponding numbers for those letters and wha-la! So his message would be like, “Mayor XYZ called with some interesting information, call him back at 1-800-244-8487.” (Go ahead, call the number!)

I Love You, Come Meet Me

By far the most vicious prank I pulled was while I was in college. The interweb machine thingy was still somewhat new to college campuses and chat rooms were all the rage in the late 90s. I found a buddy of mine’s chat room “handle,” and decided to mess with him by creating a female name and going after him for some hardcore loving. The boy immediately got hooked to this mistress of sexiness I created. The entire dorm hallway knew about it and would pack my room for days as I’d chat with the boy for hours at a time. Finally, a sense of remorse came over me and I decided to end it by asking if he wanted to meet me in person. When he said “yes,” I said, “then come on down to room G18 in your dorm and I’ll be waiting.”

Sadly, the boy knew he’d been had, walked downstairs to our hallway, and took the hard pill to swallow of 30+ guys howling and laughing at him. A month later, I got another guy with the same prank. Funny thing is, the guy I got, was in on the prank the first time I did it.

So many good stories and pranks could be told, but I’ll save those for another post, or to share with the boy before he goes off to college. They make life memorable. Besides, everyone should be able to at least tell one story in their lives that involves the phrase, “glitter bitches!”