Summer is NEVER Coming


I’ve got to go a little Southern-ness on you today, folks.


My mind is all messed up. It’s May 2nd and it’s 50 degrees outside. Just to remind you, I grew up in Georgia where there are basically three seasons: Winter, Rain, and Mercury. Winter lasts about two months normally and we don’t dance with the whole negative degree thing. Rain is pretty much all of March, April, September, and October. And Mercury is sunshine and temperatures of Hell for the rest of the time. By this time of year, I’m used to Mercury.


In the Great White North where I currently reside….I guess I will name this season…The Matrix. Because it’s technically spring and this has all got to be something unreal and that I only 1/3 understand while looking around with a “what’s that smell” face. (Much like what happens when I attempt to watch the Matrix movies) I keep telling myself NO NO NO, it’s not real, I’m going to wake up anytime now and be laying out in the sweltering sun in my backyard after packing away every coat, every long-sleeved item, and every pair of pants I own! But in reality, the Oracle (a.k.a. Mother Nature) is saying, “Joke’s on you, girl. Enjoy the snow I’m giving you as a 4th of July present.”


When the sun actually does come out, it’s all a mind game. Oh sure, it looks like it’s a pleasant 70 degrees outside, but when you walk out there in shorts and a tanktop—refusing to believe what weather channel claims is 38 degree weather presently—your skin pretty much turns blue and you run back inside with a fun little onset of hypothermia.


I’ve become desperate. I’ll actually go to the tanning bed salon and lay for way over the time I need to, just to purposely burn myself so that when I go outside, I feel warm and toasty regardless of the temperature. This is my rain dance, dammit! Give me my summer already! What do I need to do? Sacrifice a sheep? Maybe the blood of a virgin or the rights to my firstborn? When is this going to end?!!!


The freaky winter that won’t end seems to be this way all over the country, so it has me thinking: is this global warming? Wait, what exactly is global warming? Should I stop using hairspray? Well, that’s silly, I can’t stop using hairspray, I need my 5 inch bump for my livelihood…

Then I drop into these really “realistic” musings: Is Game of Thrones really our reality now? Is Winter really always going to be coming? Are the White Walkers on their way? Maybe this is Narnia. Maybe the whole world just fell through a wardrobe one Saturday night while we were enjoying a live band and a few rounds of drinks at the Buffalo Wild Wings and now we are stuck in the White Witch’s neverending icebox of a retreat…


I want to take a second and remind you that I am a fiction author, so I assure you that this chaotic and slightly weird train of thought is totally healthy. Totally. Totes McGotes healthy. Really. No, really.


The point is, it sucks. And there is absolutely nothing we can do about it. So how do we cope?

Well, lots of Netflix, whiskey, and fuzzy Christmas socks, that’s how.


Remember, when life gives you lemons (or freezing temps in May), make lemonade (or a Long Island Ice Tea).


Married Conversations: Part 1


Loads of statistics and people seem to be a little Glass-Half-Empty when it comes to marriage.

“Sure, you love each other now, but then—it’s misery! The end of your life!”

I may not have twenty years in yet, but I still think those statistics and people are stupid. I could get up on my little sunshiney soap box about this all day long, but I’ll save it for another day. Instead, I’ll just leave it at that I don’t agree and that if anything, so far, marriage has just made my personal love story with my hubs more entertaining. To an extreme level.

My hubs finally got a day off from the World of the Iron Beast (A whole weekend off!), and I would like to present to you a summary of this rare occurrence in which we get to hang out together for 2.5 days straight, never changing out of our pj’s while we have coffee in one hand and a bag of Fritos in the other. Add a new TV in the mix and now we get to judge and cackle at people we don’t know on a bigger screen.
This is heaven, right?

Allow me to present to you the first installment (because how could there not be tons of these to come?) of a weekend full of Married Conversations.


Me: “You’re home, you’re home! Let the weekend festivus BEGIN!”
Hubs: “I had a bad day. I’m going to take a nap.”
Me: (A switch flicks and I go all THIS IS SPARTA! on him) “Shug, [my term of endearment for my hubs. It’s a shortened form of the word “sugar”] are you kidding?! It’s the weekend! You are off, you are awesome! Did Leonidas take a nap or did he take 300 guys with some serious weaponry and show everyone WHO’S BOSS? Huh? Would you rather be the guy who takes a nap after a bad day or the guy who DINES IN HELL?!!!!” (This goes on for roughly ten minutes as I also throw in references from history/fiction land such as Spartacus, Batman, and The Punisher…Oh, you thought I only get crazy with embellishment and imagination with the books I write? No. It falls out like verbal vomit every time I speak.)
Hubs: “Okay, okay! I’m up! No nap!” (Walks out of the bedroom)
Me: “Where are you going?”
Hubs: “Alcohol…I need…a drink.”
Me: “We can’t leave. It’s a blizzard outside.”
Hubs: “I don’t need to leave…I have root beer vodka, Dr. Pepper, and….”
Me: “Netflix?”
Hubs: “Netflix! Russia’s Toughest Prisons?”
Me: “This is why we are soul mates.”


(It’s been a day of mindless TV and comedies. As the sun sets, things are about to get real)

Hubs: (Walks in the kitchen) “What are you doing in here?”
Me: “I’m making this our personal pub. (I turn on the speakers and start jamming out Black Sabbath. I point at the kitchen tile) That’s our dance floor.”
Hubs: “I’m going to shovel the driveway.”
Me: “What! Why? It’s just going to keep snowing and your hard work will be in vain.”
Hubs: (He chuckles because I am not from the North and I am still learning things—especially about snow. Still, he is amazingly patient with me as he teaches me the ways of the Arctic) “It’ll just make things worse if I don’t shovel a little bit now. Things will turn to ice and…”(He proceeds to give me this logical explanation on why he needs to shovel a bit of the driveway tonight. My mind wanders to this idea I have about strapping a plow to the front of a golf cart and I accidentally stop listening to him.)
Me: “Okay…but no more than ten minutes out there.”
Hubs: “Deal.” (He goes outside and returns ten minutes later to me dancing with a glass of wine to “LaGrange”.)
Me: “Heyyyyyy!”
Hubs: “What happened to Ozzy?”
Me: “I accidently hit the shuffle button and it became the DJ.”
Hubs: (Sits down)
Me: “Dance with me!”
Hubs: “I’m wiped out! I just shoveled the driveway!”
Me: “I have an idea that will refresh your spirit! Let’s go watch old music videos from when we were teenagers on YouTube!” (Hubs bounces up, totally into this idea.)

(Five hours later, we’ve successfully watched every video from mid-nineties to mid-2000’s, bowing down to these memory triggers of nostalgia to BSB, Daft Punk, Muse, Savage Garden, Matchbox Twenty, Justin Timberlake, Oasis, Eminem, and Outkast…the list is endless. Is there any better way to spend a Saturday night with the love of your life? )


Hubs: (As we finish our morning coffee and Investigation Discovery is rolling criminal stories in the background) “Sam’s Club?”
Me: “Before the church crowd and late sleepers hit the streets?”
Hubs: “Let’s go!”

(Two hours later, we’re both cranky and are convinced humanity is lost. We are also coming up with new ways to get a buggy [shopping cart] through a parking lot of nine inches of unplowed snow)


(We’ve been watching the Grammys and all the pre-shows since 6)

Me: “Look at that hat—does he think he’s a Canadian Mountie? Does he know he’s on national TV?”
Hubs: “Who is that? And that? And that?”
Me: “Google.”
Hubs: (Googles these unknown Grammy nominees on his phone, reads off the list of 90% of the “celebrities” on this show who we have never heard of)
Me: “This is depressing. We know maybe 5 out of the 500 people on this show. All I wanted to do is just to see Paul and Ringo perform…why do we have to sit through 5 hours of these kids to get to that point?”
Hubs: “We are so old…ugh, look at her eyebrows.”
Me: “Gross. Look at that one’s dress. I mean, why didn’t you just take the slit all the way up your body since we can already see your underwear.”
Hubs: “She’s wearing underwear?”
Me: “I’m gonna go with the hope that she’s wearing underwear.”
Hubs: “How does someone keep all their stuff in that kind of dress?”
Me: “Tape. Lots of tape.”
Hubs: (Winces) “Doesn’t that hurt?”
Me: (Sigh) “The things we do in the name of beauty. You have no idea…Oo oo, I know him! Finally! Oh, and look at her—gorgeous!”
Hubs: “If clubs impose dress codes, so should the Grammys.”
Me: “I never thought of that, you are so right.”
Hubs: “It’s like, I can’t come in wearing jeans, but this guy is wearing a jean suit. Really?”
Me: “He just called his award a gold sippy cup. Must be nice to have money. Hey, we should buy a lottery ticket. I want a gold wine sippy cup. I’m serious.”
Hubs: “Where are the Fritos? I’m about to eat my emotions.”
Me: “Why? Not into the gold sippy cup idea?”
Hubs: “No, I just want to hear some real music. Some good music. What’s with all this loud, no-talent, everything sounds the same crap?”
Me: “Wow. Did you just hear yourself? Are you eighty years old?”
Hubs: (Gives me a look) “You know you agree with me.”
Me: (I’m laughing pretty hard now) “ ‘Merica!”
Hubs: “Aren’t you a comedian.”
Me: “No, no, no, I totally agree with you! That’s why when I get pregnant, I’m going to blast the kid’s ears with classics. Queen, Rolling Stones, AC/DC, The Who, The Beatles….when music was GOOD. Do they make earphones for your belly? I should invent that if they don’t….”
Hubs: “It’s my turn to ask YOU how old YOU are now.”
Me: “Whatever. You’ll thank me when your kids burst in the house singing “Thunderstruck” opposed to twerking like they have some kind of mad cow disease to a Justin Bieber tune.”
Hubs: (Thinks this over) “Okay, you definitely win on this.”

See? Married life is kind of awesome….and this is only a small slice of just how entertaining it can be.