Garden Grass Snakes also known as Garter Snakes can be dangerous. Yes, grass snakes, not rattlesnakes. Here's why:A couple in Sweetwater , Texas , had a lot of potted plants.. During a recent cold spell, the wife was bringing a lot of them indoors to protect them from a possible freeze. It turned out that a little green garden grass snake was hidden in one of the plants and when it had warmed up, it slithered out and the wife saw it go under the sofa.She let out a very loud scream.The husband (who was taking a shower) ran naked into the living room to see what the problem was. She told him there was a snake under the sofa. He got down on the floor on his hands and knees to look for it. About that time the family dog came and cold-nosed him on the behind.He thought the snake had bitten him, so he screamed and fell over on the floor. His wife thought he had a heart attack, so she covered him up, told him to lie still and called an ambulance. The attendants rushed in, wouldn't listen to his protests and loaded him on the stretcher and started carrying him out.About that time the snake came out from under the sofa and the Emergency Medical Technician saw it and dropped his end of the stretcher. That's when the man broke his leg and why he is still in the hospital. The wife still had the problem of the snake in the house, so she called on a neighbor man..He volunteered to capture the snake. He armed himself with a rolled-up newspaper and began poking under the couch. Soon he decided it was gone and told the woman, who sat down on the sofa in relief. But while relaxing, she dangled her hand in between the cushions, where she felt the snake wriggling around. She screamed and fainted and the snake rushed back under the sofa.The neighbor man, seeing her lying there passed out, tried to use CPR to revive her.The neighbor's wife, who had just returned from shopping at the grocery store, saw her husband's mouth on the woman's mouth and slammed her husband in the back of the head with a bag of canned goods, knocking him out and cutting his scalp so badly that he needed stitches.The noise woke the woman from her dead faint and she saw her neighbor lying on the floor with his wife bending over him, so she assumed that he had been bitten by the snake. She went to the kitchen and got a small bottle of whiskey, and began pouring it down the man's throat. By now the police had arrived.They saw the unconscious man, smelled the whiskey, and assumed that a drunken fight had occurred. They were about to arrest them all when the women explained that it all happened over a little green snake. The police called an ambulance, which took away the neighbor and his sobbing wife.The little snake again crawled out from under the sofa. One of thepolicemen drew his gun and fired at it. He missed the snake and hit the leg of the end table. The table fell over, the lamp on it shattered and, as the bulb broke, it started a fire in the drapes.The other policeman tried to beat out the flames, and fell through thewindow into the yard on top of the startled family dog who, jumped out and raced into the street where an oncoming car swerved to avoid the dog and smashed into the parked police car. Meanwhile, the burning drapes were seen by the neighbors who called the fire department.The firemen had started raising the fire truck ladder when they were halfway down the street. The rising ladder tore out the overhead wires and put out the electricity and disconnected the telephones in a ten-square city block area. But they did get the house fire out.Time passed and both men were discharged from the hospital, the house was repaired, the dog came home, the police were issued a new car, and all was right with their world. Several days later the wife and husband were watching television and the weatherman announced a cold snap for that night.
The wife asked her husband if he thought they should bring in their plants for the night.
That's when he shot her!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
I figured we were do for a picture here somewhere. This is a picture of the kids the other night sitting in the yard. Its finally warm enough that we can be outside past 5 pm so, we've been taking full advantage.
I am pretty sure, if I were solar powered, I would have been fully charged at the end of last weekend.
Mateo must be imitating the flash that goes off when a picture is taken.
Friday, March 13, 2009
My One Year Anniversary with the Feral Plant
I have a black thumb, those of you that know me, know that this is no exaggeration. I could kill your plant simply by looking at it. Its something I am not proud of by any means but I am aware of and work with it.
A year ago, my boss gave me a plant, a live one. I accepted it with a cringe, worrying of the offense that might be taken if it died within a week.
I started out by giving the plant the last of the water that was in my cup every week or so. Then, it became the last of whatever might have been in my cup. You wouldn’t imagine how perked up that plant would get after a dose of crystal light. I left it on my desk, under the fluorescent lights day in and day out with no chance of ever having it see actual light. It continued to not only grow but bloom.
This plant will be the ONLY plant EVER that has survived more than a week in my presence and I have deemed it the “feral plant” because it does not live in a manner similar to its own kind with naturally derived chlorophyll or fresh water. It actually does best with lemon water, tea, sugar free juice drinks and the occasional soda. And the deep green leaves are the direct response of office ambiance also known as fluorescent tubes.
I put it out in the sun for thirty minutes the other day, thinking of giving it a treat, and it whithered quite quickly. I promptly returned it, gave it a splash of sparkling lemonade, and waited with baited breath. I had grown fond of this strange plant. It needed to live! Within an hour it was showing visible signs of improvement.
I love that feral plant and don’t know what I would I do without it, anymore!
Please don’t call the Plant Protection Services on me!!!
A year ago, my boss gave me a plant, a live one. I accepted it with a cringe, worrying of the offense that might be taken if it died within a week.
I started out by giving the plant the last of the water that was in my cup every week or so. Then, it became the last of whatever might have been in my cup. You wouldn’t imagine how perked up that plant would get after a dose of crystal light. I left it on my desk, under the fluorescent lights day in and day out with no chance of ever having it see actual light. It continued to not only grow but bloom.
This plant will be the ONLY plant EVER that has survived more than a week in my presence and I have deemed it the “feral plant” because it does not live in a manner similar to its own kind with naturally derived chlorophyll or fresh water. It actually does best with lemon water, tea, sugar free juice drinks and the occasional soda. And the deep green leaves are the direct response of office ambiance also known as fluorescent tubes.
I put it out in the sun for thirty minutes the other day, thinking of giving it a treat, and it whithered quite quickly. I promptly returned it, gave it a splash of sparkling lemonade, and waited with baited breath. I had grown fond of this strange plant. It needed to live! Within an hour it was showing visible signs of improvement.
I love that feral plant and don’t know what I would I do without it, anymore!
Please don’t call the Plant Protection Services on me!!!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Wednesday - Hump Day
Lately, work has been a bit stressful for my husband (his firm is finally joining the rest of us, clinging for their jobs with absolute desperation) and so, I have been a bit more nurturing than I might normally be. I have cut out eating out at lunch (the horror!), I have cancelled cable (did I mention I work in TV?!?), and I have been making more macaroni and cheese than I care to admit (can I get a salad up in here?). I even decided to postpone any vacation plans we might have wanted to day dream about for the next year or so (sucking the LIFE out of me, here!!!)
Yesterday morning, the alarm went off and I attempted to shake Ruben out of bed. “I don’t want to get up!” he grunted.
“But its Wednesday,” I coaxed.
“Oh greeaaatttt…”
“Come on, you know: Wednesday – Hump day”
That’s when I realized that even before the sun comes up at least *those* synapses are firing for men.
“Oh really?” He asked as he scooted closer…
I wacked a pillow in his face, called him a perve and hopped in the shower.
The line must be drawn somewhere…
Yesterday morning, the alarm went off and I attempted to shake Ruben out of bed. “I don’t want to get up!” he grunted.
“But its Wednesday,” I coaxed.
“Oh greeaaatttt…”
“Come on, you know: Wednesday – Hump day”
That’s when I realized that even before the sun comes up at least *those* synapses are firing for men.
“Oh really?” He asked as he scooted closer…
I wacked a pillow in his face, called him a perve and hopped in the shower.
The line must be drawn somewhere…
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
That Crazy Man I Live With
One of my favorite bloggers, Heather Armstrong of dooce.com, brought this meme over from facebook and it was hilarious! I felt inclined to share some background by doing the same…Most of you probably don’t know a lot about Ruben. That might be a good thing!
What are your middle names?
My middle name is Breanne. Ruben's middle name is Dagoberto. In fact, he’s a Jr. I saved our son…He owes me BIG time for not becoming Ruben Dagoberto Ruiz III.
How long have you been together?
We’ve been married for 7 ½ years, together 8 ½ years.
How long did you know each other before you started dating?
We met a month or two before we started dating. I thought he was creepy and thoroughly annoying. Two very attractive qualities, apparently.
Who asked whom out?
He asked me. In fact, he would not take no for an answer. I must’ve given 5 excuses that he knocked down right away…he was determined!
How old are each of you?
I'm 26, he's OLD 31. The 5 ½-year age difference, always gets played up on birthdays. God, I will never get tired of offering an arm of assistance for his tired bones as we walk out of a steakhouse on his latest milestone.
Whose siblings do you see the most?
We see both sets fairly evenly which sucks because my two sisters are local and his siblings are 3 hours away but we try to keep it fair and all…
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Um, our house is the bane of our existence. I cried the day we closed escrow and after fixing it all up to sell, we had a flood and got to start all over. We’ve now missed the possibility of having any equity in our house, thankyouverymuch recession and will be stuck in this evil little house until things change…
Did you go to the same school?
We both went to the same high school but he graduated in 1995 and I graduated in 2001. He went to Cal Poly for college and I went to Long Beach State
Are you from the same home town?
Yes, we are both from the pumpkin capital of the world, the lovely, the tiny, stop sign on a black top of a city, Half Moon Bay.
Who is smarter?
We could debate this for hours but this man refused to recognize “dollop” as a word. He also needs me to fix the computers, cook, make all decisions regarding our children…. On the other hand, he is smart enough to convince me to do all these things so…
Who is the most sensitive?
Me. I am the one who is a step away from being locked up in a padded room so, its safe to say ME ME ME!!!!
Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Hmmm…is this a trick question? Wouldn’t that require us to eat out?
Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
St. Maarten, Netherlands Antilles – part of a cruise last year, thanks mom and dad!
Who has the craziest exes?
I do. Hands down. Mine are the ones who keep reappearing in our lives, either hopelessly begging for me to consider their jobless ass for a second chance, or to hear that they are homeless and have put more white powder up their nose than Whitney Houston. They are some real gems, let me tell you!
Who has the worst temper?
Depends. I have the screaming and swearing kind of temper and he has the screaming and punch stuff kind. Only kidding. Have you met us? We are two of the quietest people EVER…
Who does the cooking?
Me. I taught Ruben how to make Campbell’s soup when we first got together and thought we were progressing as I tried to teach him to make maccaroni and cheese from the box. Do you know how HORRIBLY wrong Kraft Mac ‘n’ Cheese can go? Because I do!
Who is the neat-freak?
I used to be. When I lived on my own, my place was spotless. Now, there is crap EVERYWHERE! And I have given up hope!
Who is more stubborn?
I am of Irish/German decent. He is Mexican… you be the judge. But I will tell you this: Our kids are EVIL stubborn!
Who hogs the bed?
Ruben. At least every other night, I get pushed right off. Our bed is so miserably uncomfortable that the only place Ruben is willing to lay is right in the middle and he tosses, snores, kicks, shouts, and does this weird ballerina, twinkle toes thing.
Who wakes up earlier?
Me. Ruben would not be up until noon if he had the choice. But he lives with two children under 5 and me…he has no choice!
Where was your first date?
San Benito House Deli for lunch. I had the cheese and avocado sandwich on wheat, no avocado…back in the vegetarian days.
Who is more jealous?
Totally me. He gets calls from his octogenarian boss and I go ape shit: “Who was that? Why was she calling? Doesn’t she know its family time?” I might need to work on it.
How long did it take to get serious?
Well, we started dating in September and were married by July so…not long?
Who eats more?
He does. I would try to keep up but I would be the size of a bus! Damn his great genetics!
Who does the laundry?
He does his. I do everything else. And that includes folding the piles of clean clothes he just did but wants to leave sitting on top of the dryer FOREVER or until he chooses to wear it. Whichever comes first.
Who's better with the computer?
Me. Ruben has asked me how to access the internet with the bright blue e (of internet explorer) staring right at him. Yea….
Who drives when you are together?
Usually Ruben. We are both back seat drivers, though. I drive too fast, he drives way too slow and forgets the off ramp he needs on a regular basis.
Feel free to answer some or all of the same questions about your significant other in the comments, or leave a link to your website if you prefer answering there.
What are your middle names?
My middle name is Breanne. Ruben's middle name is Dagoberto. In fact, he’s a Jr. I saved our son…He owes me BIG time for not becoming Ruben Dagoberto Ruiz III.
How long have you been together?
We’ve been married for 7 ½ years, together 8 ½ years.
How long did you know each other before you started dating?
We met a month or two before we started dating. I thought he was creepy and thoroughly annoying. Two very attractive qualities, apparently.
Who asked whom out?
He asked me. In fact, he would not take no for an answer. I must’ve given 5 excuses that he knocked down right away…he was determined!
How old are each of you?
I'm 26, he's OLD 31. The 5 ½-year age difference, always gets played up on birthdays. God, I will never get tired of offering an arm of assistance for his tired bones as we walk out of a steakhouse on his latest milestone.
Whose siblings do you see the most?
We see both sets fairly evenly which sucks because my two sisters are local and his siblings are 3 hours away but we try to keep it fair and all…
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Um, our house is the bane of our existence. I cried the day we closed escrow and after fixing it all up to sell, we had a flood and got to start all over. We’ve now missed the possibility of having any equity in our house, thankyouverymuch recession and will be stuck in this evil little house until things change…
Did you go to the same school?
We both went to the same high school but he graduated in 1995 and I graduated in 2001. He went to Cal Poly for college and I went to Long Beach State
Are you from the same home town?
Yes, we are both from the pumpkin capital of the world, the lovely, the tiny, stop sign on a black top of a city, Half Moon Bay.
Who is smarter?
We could debate this for hours but this man refused to recognize “dollop” as a word. He also needs me to fix the computers, cook, make all decisions regarding our children…. On the other hand, he is smart enough to convince me to do all these things so…
Who is the most sensitive?
Me. I am the one who is a step away from being locked up in a padded room so, its safe to say ME ME ME!!!!
Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Hmmm…is this a trick question? Wouldn’t that require us to eat out?
Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
St. Maarten, Netherlands Antilles – part of a cruise last year, thanks mom and dad!
Who has the craziest exes?
I do. Hands down. Mine are the ones who keep reappearing in our lives, either hopelessly begging for me to consider their jobless ass for a second chance, or to hear that they are homeless and have put more white powder up their nose than Whitney Houston. They are some real gems, let me tell you!
Who has the worst temper?
Depends. I have the screaming and swearing kind of temper and he has the screaming and punch stuff kind. Only kidding. Have you met us? We are two of the quietest people EVER…
Who does the cooking?
Me. I taught Ruben how to make Campbell’s soup when we first got together and thought we were progressing as I tried to teach him to make maccaroni and cheese from the box. Do you know how HORRIBLY wrong Kraft Mac ‘n’ Cheese can go? Because I do!
Who is the neat-freak?
I used to be. When I lived on my own, my place was spotless. Now, there is crap EVERYWHERE! And I have given up hope!
Who is more stubborn?
I am of Irish/German decent. He is Mexican… you be the judge. But I will tell you this: Our kids are EVIL stubborn!
Who hogs the bed?
Ruben. At least every other night, I get pushed right off. Our bed is so miserably uncomfortable that the only place Ruben is willing to lay is right in the middle and he tosses, snores, kicks, shouts, and does this weird ballerina, twinkle toes thing.
Who wakes up earlier?
Me. Ruben would not be up until noon if he had the choice. But he lives with two children under 5 and me…he has no choice!
Where was your first date?
San Benito House Deli for lunch. I had the cheese and avocado sandwich on wheat, no avocado…back in the vegetarian days.
Who is more jealous?
Totally me. He gets calls from his octogenarian boss and I go ape shit: “Who was that? Why was she calling? Doesn’t she know its family time?” I might need to work on it.
How long did it take to get serious?
Well, we started dating in September and were married by July so…not long?
Who eats more?
He does. I would try to keep up but I would be the size of a bus! Damn his great genetics!
Who does the laundry?
He does his. I do everything else. And that includes folding the piles of clean clothes he just did but wants to leave sitting on top of the dryer FOREVER or until he chooses to wear it. Whichever comes first.
Who's better with the computer?
Me. Ruben has asked me how to access the internet with the bright blue e (of internet explorer) staring right at him. Yea….
Who drives when you are together?
Usually Ruben. We are both back seat drivers, though. I drive too fast, he drives way too slow and forgets the off ramp he needs on a regular basis.
Feel free to answer some or all of the same questions about your significant other in the comments, or leave a link to your website if you prefer answering there.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
The Heart Break Files, part 11
The days passed on and I couldn’t bring myself to write about the feelings I was having. I was completely destroyed by the “rebirth” of Jesse. The more I wrote about it, the more it lingered. I waited in hope for the Pumpkin Festival. I had invited him to attend before the final email and deep down, I knew it was a closed book if he chose not to attend. My relationship with Ruben stayed in limbo. Lexi’s 4th birthday came and went as I secretly held out hope for the third weekend in October. It was the Friday before, as we drove to Half Moon Bay, that I realized, I was doing the exact thing I wanted to avoid: I was pulling away from my husband as I was trying to pull away from my memories. My heart could be in love with two men or not at all but I was having a hard time clearing out the space for just one man to hold my heart.
Ruben and I never did have the conversation that needed to be had about where we stood. It seemed obvious that there was work to be done but we had to rebuild a trust in the relationship we had before we could work on the issues safely.
Saturday morning, after a visit to the local coffee shop, I got the kids into their costumes and braced myself for finality. I put in my mind that if Jesse came to the parade, then I had to face him and the emotions that would come with. If he was not, I had to let go. Let go of Jesse, let go of the memories, let go of the hope, let go of the heart break.
I never saw him at the festival. Not during the parade or the day after. If he was there, I would never know. But I do know that my heart didn’t let go the way I had promised myself I would let it.
I wanted to write to him and ask him why. I wanted to tell him how I felt. I wanted to break through the lack of communication.
I didn’t.
I let days and weeks pass and most of the time, the moments spent on memories would flutter past. I would catch myself reliving a moment, only to realize it was wasted time. I found myself looking at my husband with a softer look than ever before. He was the safe bet. He had always been there, always stood by, always put up with the highs and lows.
Over Thanksgiving, we travelled up to Ruben’s family in the east bay, and I thought of Jesse and possibly running into him – I couldn’t believe that I still held out hope that he was watching. I had to know that he didn’t care. And more importantly, I shouldn’t care.
Even now, months later, I find myself unable to say that the heart break is over but I do know that the journey with Jesse is over. There is no hope to be had.
My family went through hell and back with my emotional roller coaster and it was unfair for them. I pray that Ruben and I live a long happy life together because I would not wish another heart break like that on anyone, especially my children.
I guess the only thing left to say is:
Goodbye Jesse and good riddance.
Ruben and I never did have the conversation that needed to be had about where we stood. It seemed obvious that there was work to be done but we had to rebuild a trust in the relationship we had before we could work on the issues safely.
Saturday morning, after a visit to the local coffee shop, I got the kids into their costumes and braced myself for finality. I put in my mind that if Jesse came to the parade, then I had to face him and the emotions that would come with. If he was not, I had to let go. Let go of Jesse, let go of the memories, let go of the hope, let go of the heart break.
I never saw him at the festival. Not during the parade or the day after. If he was there, I would never know. But I do know that my heart didn’t let go the way I had promised myself I would let it.
I wanted to write to him and ask him why. I wanted to tell him how I felt. I wanted to break through the lack of communication.
I didn’t.
I let days and weeks pass and most of the time, the moments spent on memories would flutter past. I would catch myself reliving a moment, only to realize it was wasted time. I found myself looking at my husband with a softer look than ever before. He was the safe bet. He had always been there, always stood by, always put up with the highs and lows.
Over Thanksgiving, we travelled up to Ruben’s family in the east bay, and I thought of Jesse and possibly running into him – I couldn’t believe that I still held out hope that he was watching. I had to know that he didn’t care. And more importantly, I shouldn’t care.
Even now, months later, I find myself unable to say that the heart break is over but I do know that the journey with Jesse is over. There is no hope to be had.
My family went through hell and back with my emotional roller coaster and it was unfair for them. I pray that Ruben and I live a long happy life together because I would not wish another heart break like that on anyone, especially my children.
I guess the only thing left to say is:
Goodbye Jesse and good riddance.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
The Heart Break Files, part 10
Day 9 – I think this is the day that just would not quit. Both the kids woke up with colds, were raging lunatics all morning, and then at work I was in back to back meetings, all during my crunch time of the month for work. I thought I was going to seriously lose it. I checked in on myspace and saw that Jesse, who has still not added me as a friend, has changed his profile picture to a darker image where he is wearing a hat, sitting back in a dark leather sofa. From the tiny 1 inch by 1 inch photo, I realized, I would never have recognized him from that! I wondered if he did it on purpose. I wanted to write to him but stopped myself. Not only trying to save what little dignity I had left but also to rush out to a meeting.
During these meetings, I took a major stand to finally expose someone as the failure that they are. This person happened to be one of my very best friends over the last year but I found her more and more grating recently and had really distanced myself from her, growing to despise her. When the powers that be wanted to make her the point person for her department on a huge project that would definitely lead to a promotion down the line, I cut them off and alerted them to the fact that the job would be very detail oriented and well, this person, was dyslexic and would inevitably screw this up where there is no room for anything less than perfection. I hated myself after doing it but I could not stand the idea of her getting this big project, screwing it up, getting promoted, and three months down the line, me getting to do all the clean up work as she reaped the rewards that came with the position. I was not having it.
I went home on a high. Half impressed that I had the guts to speak up, half distressed at my lack of heart. Oh, who am I kidding, my heart went out the window last weekend!
During these meetings, I took a major stand to finally expose someone as the failure that they are. This person happened to be one of my very best friends over the last year but I found her more and more grating recently and had really distanced myself from her, growing to despise her. When the powers that be wanted to make her the point person for her department on a huge project that would definitely lead to a promotion down the line, I cut them off and alerted them to the fact that the job would be very detail oriented and well, this person, was dyslexic and would inevitably screw this up where there is no room for anything less than perfection. I hated myself after doing it but I could not stand the idea of her getting this big project, screwing it up, getting promoted, and three months down the line, me getting to do all the clean up work as she reaped the rewards that came with the position. I was not having it.
I went home on a high. Half impressed that I had the guts to speak up, half distressed at my lack of heart. Oh, who am I kidding, my heart went out the window last weekend!
Friday, October 3, 2008
The Heart Break Files, part 9
Day 8 – This morning, somewhere near 4 am, Ruben whispered, I love you, to me. I mumbled it back, not wanting to seem cold hearted but more than anything, it had been too long since he was giving that kind of thing away and I just didn’t really no what game he was playing but I didn’t want any part of it. I can’t afford heartbreak again and until he and I get a chance to sit down and really talk about what’s going on with us since the huge blow out Sunday night, I don’t want to get any sort of my hopes up.
I stumbled out of bed around 5am and got ready for the day. I actually took a few moments to read a gossip magazine and sip some water before crawling back into bed around 5:45 and shutting my eyes for a bit. Ruben rubbed my back and asked for the time. I told him it wasn’t even six yet and we both just laid there and rested until the coughing in Lexi’s room was too much to ignore. I got up, brought her to my bed, and then found her some tights and a dress to wear to school and the morning quickly fell into the routine rushing around.
I got to work and hit the ground running. I had a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of time. I buried myself in accounting and ignored the memories of Jesse. This is a particularly difficult task when my relationship with Jesse started in a math class. We met my freshman year of high school. He was a junior, sitting in the back of the class, wanting to disappear and just pass. I was a freshman, hanging out in the middle, passing notes with my best friend and rolling my eyes at the incompetent teacher up front. I noticed him first. I thought he was hot and started sitting just in front of him. Then, during breaks in the action, I would ask to borrow his eraser or ask how his day was going. After a while, he was comfortable enough to jump into conversations with my friend and I and then, I started passing him notes. I learned that he had a huge crush on a girl named Monica and that he was really trying to win her over. I remember going to a football game, seeing him sitting by her, and though I wanted to strike up a conversation and sit next to him, I didn’t want to run interference on any moves he was trying to make. I caught up with a guy I was casually dating, and we skipped out on the game and headed down to get some snacks from the store. As we were walking out, Jesse walked in. I remember taking a huge side step from him as I didn’t want Jesse to think the other guy and I were together.
The next Monday in class, he wrote me a note, wondering who it was I was seeing and what the deal was. It wasn’t long after that when things started to warm up. Another girl had a crush on the guy I was dating and she attacked me at my locker. She punched me, over and over and I just stood there and let it happen. When word got around to Jesse he refused to let me walk the halls alone and started escorting me to every class and then, he wrote the note that changed everything. Midway through a mundane conversation about random happenings at school, Jesse asked me to be his girlfriend. At first, I questioned if I was just a second pick since things were going no where with Monica but he said it had nothing to do with Monica and I agreed to be an item. We joked later that when we were married we would frame the note and hang it on a wall and tell our grandkids about it. But the pencil lines have no doubt faded, as did our relationship.
I stumbled out of bed around 5am and got ready for the day. I actually took a few moments to read a gossip magazine and sip some water before crawling back into bed around 5:45 and shutting my eyes for a bit. Ruben rubbed my back and asked for the time. I told him it wasn’t even six yet and we both just laid there and rested until the coughing in Lexi’s room was too much to ignore. I got up, brought her to my bed, and then found her some tights and a dress to wear to school and the morning quickly fell into the routine rushing around.
I got to work and hit the ground running. I had a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of time. I buried myself in accounting and ignored the memories of Jesse. This is a particularly difficult task when my relationship with Jesse started in a math class. We met my freshman year of high school. He was a junior, sitting in the back of the class, wanting to disappear and just pass. I was a freshman, hanging out in the middle, passing notes with my best friend and rolling my eyes at the incompetent teacher up front. I noticed him first. I thought he was hot and started sitting just in front of him. Then, during breaks in the action, I would ask to borrow his eraser or ask how his day was going. After a while, he was comfortable enough to jump into conversations with my friend and I and then, I started passing him notes. I learned that he had a huge crush on a girl named Monica and that he was really trying to win her over. I remember going to a football game, seeing him sitting by her, and though I wanted to strike up a conversation and sit next to him, I didn’t want to run interference on any moves he was trying to make. I caught up with a guy I was casually dating, and we skipped out on the game and headed down to get some snacks from the store. As we were walking out, Jesse walked in. I remember taking a huge side step from him as I didn’t want Jesse to think the other guy and I were together.
The next Monday in class, he wrote me a note, wondering who it was I was seeing and what the deal was. It wasn’t long after that when things started to warm up. Another girl had a crush on the guy I was dating and she attacked me at my locker. She punched me, over and over and I just stood there and let it happen. When word got around to Jesse he refused to let me walk the halls alone and started escorting me to every class and then, he wrote the note that changed everything. Midway through a mundane conversation about random happenings at school, Jesse asked me to be his girlfriend. At first, I questioned if I was just a second pick since things were going no where with Monica but he said it had nothing to do with Monica and I agreed to be an item. We joked later that when we were married we would frame the note and hang it on a wall and tell our grandkids about it. But the pencil lines have no doubt faded, as did our relationship.
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