Mike, Mike, and Mike

So, Ruben and I went to the STP concert the other night – yea, I know, you know that already but there is more to tell.
That night we were sitting in our seats, waiting for the music to start and in walk six of the craziest guys I’ve seen since my sorority days. There was Matt, John, PJ (or DJ or SOMETHING J) and three other guys that seemed to be straight out of American Pie. DJ (I’m just going to pick this and run with it) had to be the person Adam Herz modeled Stifler after – I mean he looked, sounded, and personified that character.

These six guys were clearly thrilled to be at the concert and when the seats filled in front of them, they started to introduce themselves. Well, Michelle and Mike were first to break the ice. They were from Fresno or something and were quite the chatter boxes. After that came Alicia and another Mike.

These grown men acted like they had never met two people with the same name. They were SO EXCITED that they had two Mikes in front of them.

So, Ruben gives me a glance and a “I’m about to cause some trouble” smile and I nod, knowingly.

DJ turns around and asks our names and I introduce myself as Alli and Ruben, puts out his hand and says, “I’m Mike”

I swear, I would’ve been shocked if there was a pair of dry pants in that row of boys. Three Mikes in one tiny space was more than they could handle. For the rest of the night, these guys could not get over the three Mikes and we could not get over their excitement.

I wonder what they would think if they only knew…

The Ways We Belong Together

The other day (7/20 to be exact) Ruben and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary. As a present, my parents gave us money to go out to dinner so, being that every dollar I get these days goes to something responsible, I forced us to enjoy the money and go out. We went to the Apple Farm in San Luis Obispo. Neither of us had been there in our adult life so it seemed like a nice choice. Normally, during dinner, we would casually talk about our days until an uncomfortable silence would set in and then, for the rest of the evening we would be pulling teeth from one another to get conversation going again. That night, that was not a problem.
Part way through dinner, we were talking about pet owning and Ruben said that I was a bad pet owner. I said, “Look who’s talking!” – he has a ferret that he never plays with.
“Ferrets are supposed to be loving and cuddly”
and he said, “So. Are. You”.
Way to be mean on a nice night out! Were we not supposed to be celebrating our love for one another? I swear!

That’s about when I swatted his forehead with a spoon covered in vanilla ice cream.

I think it was the best date we’ve been on in a long time.

Scott Weiland's Big Mouth

So, the fair is here. And, unlike last year where I was drooling over every entertainer that had signed on, there were very few that I wanted to see. Ruben got tickets to STP which of course rocked my world because, you never know how long Scott Weiland is going to last – I mean, tomorrow he could be in jail, or in rehab, or in another band. We held our breath for 6 weeks as we waited to see if Scott would still be around for the show and then, Saturday rolled around and with babysitter all set, we got to the show.

There is something so phenomenal about these rocker/drug addicts! I mean, I am in love! They get on stage and sing and have those outfits (costumes) and I sit there and wonder why I didn’t keep on drumming until I met one of my own and married him.

So, there they are – on stage – rockin my world and Scott Weiland opens his mouth to speak. “It smells like cow shit here.”
Ok, Jackass, thanks, we can all smell it.

“I happen to like the smell of cow shit because it reminds me of growing up in Ohio, where I used to ride horses and party in the barn and that’s where I had my first orgy”
Ok, seriously? Either my crotch is full of spider-webs or that was inappropriate. Just shut up, queue the next song and let’s get back to rocking.

So, a few more songs play, he makes a comment about how Paso would be kind of cool if it didn’t smell like cow shit, goes back to playing and then…
“I want to apologize for being late, this evening. I am sorry. I was buying furniture at a liquidation sale and I got delayed. Truly. So, I am sorry”
What the hell, dude? We were all just rocking out to Plush, we don’t need your reasoning. We don’t even need an apology because none of us realized you were late to the stage – but now? Now you seem like a pretentious asshole which is just not as sexy as you were 30 minutes ago when you hit the stage.

Photo by Ms. Jesseca Meyer - when she has a site, I'll tell you all about it because she rocks everything from family portraits to weddings to concerts and I adore her!

I’m boredom emailing people – it’s the office equivalent of drunk dialing… Some one save me!

Bump in the Night

When a sound comes crashing through the night and wakes me, I fully expect my husband to jump to his feet with a bat in hand and go scan the house, in hunt of the culprit and beat it to a pulp, assuming it isn’t one of the kids or pets.

This is never the case. Instead it goes a little more like this:


I startle awake and sink lower into the covers trying to think of what I had worn to bed and what could be making that noise at the same time. I whisper to my husband, “did you hear that?”
He of course replies that he did. I then get a bit impatient with him, or is that just the immediacy I feel from the terror triggering a need to pee. “well…are you going to go see what it was?”
He rolls over, sniffles a few times and huffs, “Why don’t you go look?”

Um hello?!? Because I’m supposed to be the wife in the relationship!!! “Please go look, I’m in my panties and a t-shirt, I don’t want to die in my panties and a t-shirt”
“Oh, so you are going to send me to die in my underwear?”
“Just go look – you have all those weapons”
I start to get whiny and beggy but I know, it will be me. He pushes me out of the bed and I stumble around in the dark. I sneak around the house, peek out the slider into the back yard and out the bay window in the front and then, I turn on all the lights I can. I wait a few minutes before moving, check in on the kids, open and close the front door, lock it again, and then finally turn off all the lights, go pee, and crawl back to bed.

“well?” He asks.

“Nothing” I sigh…

Five minutes later, it happens again and I lay in bed wide-eyed, waiting for him to get up.
He never does…
That’s my night in shining armor for you.