Everything Is Art

Within seconds of going into the Museum of Art in Little Rock:

[James bounces over to a hanging picture of two boys standing in their underwear]

James [pulling his shirt up and exposing his belly]: "Ricky! Take a picture of me and my brothers!"

Me: "James, put your shirt down! This is a museum!"

[Ricky takes a picture of James, who still has his belly bared to the world]

James: "Jessa, they expect people to do this. It's art."

Me: "I don't know you."

[I walk over to another picture]

James [loudly]: "Hey Jessa! Look at this one!"

[I ignore him]

[James bounds over and tugs at my arm]

James [whispering loudly]: "Jessa! That painting is called 'The Butthole'"

[He points to a hand drawn charcoal piece that is essentially a large circle in the middle of the paper. Kind of like Japan's national flag....if they ran out of red ink]

Me: "Excuse me, random person I just met."

James: "Jessa. Come on. Don't do that.

Me: "I'll acknowledge you when you stop pulling your shirt up in public."

James: "I'm never going to stop."

Me: "Then I don't know you. And my mom taught me about Stranger Danger...so goodbye."

[I walk away. James follows me, bouncing on his toes]

James: "I can already tell this marriage is going to be awkward."

(Place title here)

While writing down a conversation I had with James at 1:00 a.m., much to his protesting:

James: "Jessa, have you ever been on bumfights.com?"

Me: "Shhhh...I have to capture what you said downstairs. Did you say you would kill our dog from behind or eat his behind?"

James: "I don't remember...that's the point!"

[I keep writing]

Me: "It literally happened three minutes ago."

James: "That's like...a million years to me."

[I snicker, still writing]

James: "Have you ever been on bumfights.com? Jesssaa!"

Me [writing]: "What!"

James: "Stop ignoring my super important question."

Me: "No, I have never been on bumfights.com. Sounds horrible, though."

James: "It was the website in the 90s, or 1880s or something. Homeless people would get paid to fight each other."

Me: "Sounds terrible."

James: "It was. And it's exactly what you are doing right now."

Me [still writing]: "Please keep talking. This is gold."

James: "You are exploiting the tiredness of my brains."

[James wanders into the bathroom, still talking.]

James: "It's not fair of you to record conversations this late at night. It's like kicking the legs out from under crippled person who only has one leg to begin with.  Except it's with my brain!"

[shower turns on. James keeps talking]

James: "You are kicking the legs out from my crippled brain."

[I start laughing]

[shower curtain opens]

James: "Just so you know, people like you are usually the villains in Disney movies."

When James cleans the house....

After returning from his military stint, James dumped his bag of clothes in the living room. Because I promised I would not clean his crap, it was a week before he remembered to shift through the piles of military shirts, boots and heaven knows what. 
And when he finally did, I recorded the conversation because it was so freaking funny...and because I need blackmailing evidence thought the world needed to know how my husband cleans. So I started typing.....

James: "Jessa, for this marriage to work, there needs to be trust. It's in the Bible."

Me: "Ok..."

James: "So you need to trust me when I say that not everything should go on your blog."

[the dog jumps into my lap, puts its head on the keyboard and watches me type]

James: "Awww. I have to instigram this!

Me: "Keep cleaning. The dog will still be here when you are done."

James [pouts, phone in hand]: "Jesssaaaa. I'm gonna be distracted by the cuteness."

Me: "Sweetie, cuteness is not what distracts you."

James [puts phone away. Starts cleaning again]: "Aren't you glad I got you a dog?"

Me: "You are lucky you got a good dog."

James: "It wasn't luck. It was calculation."

Me: "You literally went on craigslist and got the fluffiest looking animal you could find. I'm not even sure you knew it was a dog. It could have been a small Alaskan bear for all you knew."

James: "Jessa, don't be dumb. Bears don't live in Alaska."

[I snort, roll my eyes and keep typing]

James: "It wasn't chance. You don't get that fluffly without calculating. Besides, if I stood here and told you the complicated math involved in getting this dog, you wouldn't believe me. Thats's that whole point. I made a calculated decision and [*huffing]....I'm tired, Jessa [*pouts]."

[I grin, and keep typing.]

James: "And I'm cleaning." [he starts spinning in place, arms outstretched] "You won't know what to do when you have this much apartment."

[Starts putzing around making machine gun noises and singing about piles of stuff]

Me: "I've missed watching you putz around the house."

James [stops. glares]: "YOU MEAN CLEAN!?"

[James looks down, gets distracted by his shoes]

James: "JESSA! If this dog chews on my shoes, go ahead and kill him because his life won't be worth it."

[picks up a key, goes "aha!". Continues to make plane noises.]

James: "So when I clean, I pick up things and move them to another place..and then I have to clean where I cleaned because...well, I'm cleaning. Oooh...a penny."

Married to James, there is no such thing as an ordinary Wednesday.

James' text: "You work so hard."
My text: "Nah. You work harder than I do."
James': "Nope. You eat!"
My text: "Eat what?"

20 minutes later:


Receptionist: "Hey, did you order a pizza?"

Me [looking up from my desk]: "What?"

Receptionist: "There is a pizza guy out here who says someone ordered a pizza for this office."

Me: "I'm...not...wait. What?"

Receptionist: "Someone told the delivery guy that his wife worked in this office and needed a pizza."

Me: "What the..."

James had ordered me a whole pizza and had it delivered to my office. The man deserves an award. Or a puppy.  So I called him.

Me: "You sneaky, sneaky person."

James: "What?"

Me: "Thanks for the pizza."

James: "Hey, you were hungry and wouldn't go eat."

Me: "You're sweet."

James: "...whatever. I'll buy you a damn office pizza any time. 'Cause love."

Me: "This is going on the blog."

James: "Ugh. No."


First a dog shows up at my door at 2:30 a.m., then a pizza is delivered to my office. 
As much as I love these adventures, it's a good thing James can't get pregnant. 

Election Day Should Be a National Holiday

Alarm clock refuses to go off. I wake up an hour before work and realize James is going to be late for Chinese class.

Me: "James, get up. You are going to be late for school."

[Lump on the bed next to me moves, groans, and furrows deeper under the covers]

Me [hitting him with a pillow]: "Get..." *smack "...up!"

James: "Jessa...it's election day."

[I pause, pillow still above my head]

Me: "So? You still have to go to school."

James: "Oh."

[James sits up]

James: "Well...crap."

Me: "Did you think you didn't have to go to school because today is election day?"

James: "I refuse to answer that question."

Me: "For the love of God, why?"

[James pauses]

James: "It's sexist."



For all out there who think election day is a national holiday....go out and vote like it is! 

First serious conversation since James got home from the military

Me: “Hey, sweetie, I think the dog might have an ear infection. Look how he’s shaking his head.”

James: “He just likes the sound of his ear flaps smacking his face.”

Me: “I’m pretty sure they’re just called ears.”

James: “No, they are flaps. Like on an airplane. Plus, he can adjust them like an airplane.”

[I laugh]

James: “Dogs are essentially like airplanes.”

Me: “Here we go...”

James [continuing; ignoring me]: “Both have flappy ears, terrible baggage service and are super expensive with little to show for it.”

Me: “Except dogs give you love.”

James: “No, dogs give you poop and pee on the floor. Which is kind of like love.”

Me: “Is that why you miss the toilet when you pee?”

James: “Exactly. It’s 'cause love.”

Me: “Well stop loving me so much.”

[James flops over on the couch and sighs]

James: “Can’t. ‘Cause love spills over.”

Me: "Well then tell the dog to love you more, cause I'm tired of soaking up puppy pee with my socks when I walk across the carpet."

James: "Can't. He's my bro. Bros don't pee on each other."

[I get up and head to the kitchen]

Me: “Whatever. Just take the dog to the vet tomorrow and...stop peeing on the bathroom floor.”

[James picks up the dog]

James [cuddling the dog and whispering loudly]: “We’ll fly away from the mean lady and pee wherever we want, bro.”

Urban White Trash: Even Small Town DMV Experiences Are Harrowing at B...

Urban White Trash: Even Small Town DMV Experiences Are Harrowing at B...: I'm not allowed to have two middle names.

Even Small Town DMV Experiences Are Harrowing at Best

I finally went to the DMV to change my driver's license. The lady printed my name wrong twice, so I went to another teller, who was two seats away. I explained that my name had been printed wrong twice, and that I needed to get the full legal name "Jessa Clara Parette Eldridge" onto my driver's license.

Lady: "You want to change your last name?"

Me: "No, my last name is added to my full name, so I have two middle names."

Lady: "Oh, you want your maiden name and last name hyphenated?"

Me: "No, I have two middle names, Clara and Parette."

Lady: "So you want me to replace your middle name with your maiden name?"

Me: "No, my full, legal name is Jessa Clara Parette Eldridge....Clara and Parette are my middle names."

Lady: "Oh, so you want me to hyphen your middle names?"

Me: "See how it reads on my marriage license?"

Lady [reading]: "So you DO want to change 'Parette' to 'Eldridge'?"

Me: "Ma'am, I'm going to make this simple. First name: 'Jessa'. Second names: 'Clara Parette'. Last name: 'Eldridge'."

Lady: "Ooooh, you have two middle names".

Me: "Yes! Exactly!"

[she shouts down the line to the woman who is less than 15 ft. away and twice printed my name wrong.]

Lady: "Donna! Can she have two middle names?"

Donna [typing furiously on an ancient Windows computer] : "No."

Lady [turning to me]: "You can't have two middle names."

Me: "But I do. Legally. It's right there on my marriage license."

Lady [shouting to 'Donna']: "She says her names are legal."

Donna [typing, shouting, chewing gum]: "Our system doesn't have space for two middle names."

Lady: "She says our system doesn't have space for two middle names."

Donna: "You only get one middle name."

Lady: "She says you only get one middle name."



This went on for quite some time. 

Watson

A conversation at 2:30 a.m.:

James: “By the way, I bought you a puppy.”

Me: “Ha. You are so funny.
 

James: “No. Seriously. It’s coming over even as we speak.”

Me [yawning]: “You are terrible liar.”

James: “Ricky is bringing it over.”

Me: “You’d better stop before I begin to believe you.”

James: “Fine. Don’t believe me. Something else will be peeing on the carpet.”

Me: “Sweetie, we’ve been over this. An overactive bladder is nothing to be ashamed of….you can learn to stop peeing on our carpet when you get excited.”

James: “Very funny. But get ready, because I bought you the fluffiest, cutest puppy I could find.”

[the doorbell rings]

Me: “Wait….you are serious.”

James: “I told you.”

Me: “What the hell! Are you telling me that, as we speak, there is a puppy at our door?”

James [smiling]: “Yep. And it’s all yours.”

Me: “James. I’m going to kill you.”

James: “What! You said you wanted a dog!”

Me: “Yes, but it’s the same way I want a pet horse! I like the idea of it but I couldn’t handle a horse living in our apartment!”

James: “This isn’t a horse. It’s a puppy. You can’t ride a puppy, and they don’t eat carrots.”

[The doorbell rings again]

James [worried]: “Also, you can’t eat him.”

Me [getting out of bed and putting a robe on]: “Why would you say that…and where the heck are my shoes!”

James: “Because you are Chinese, and you wok dogs.”

Me: “Now is not the time for puns!”

James: “I know! It’s puppy time!”

[James bounces down the stairs chanting, “puppy, puppy, puppy time!”]

At 3:00 a.m., I became a dog owner. 

At 3:05 a.m., my the dog peed on my husband.

Karma. 

Meet Watson, the walking furball of cosmic energy.

Urban White Trash: Forgive me, for I have not shouted

Urban White Trash: Forgive me, for I have not shouted: Why do people assume "big news" equals pregnancy?

Forgive me, for I have not shouted

WARNING: The following is unrated due to the graphic nature of unashamed feelings. Cursing and honest truth involved. Viewing discretion is advised.


When I announce that I have “big news”, the first thing people assume is that I’m pregnant.

Really? 

I couldn’t possibly mean that I have been offered a promotion in my job. It couldn’t mean fantastic changes in a career, success in school, opportunities in business or even an announcement that we are getting a dog.

No.

Big news = Pregnancy

*facepalm

Have I failed? Has my life become so bleak in the nine-to-five editorial position that no one assumes career changes are in the realm of My Fantastic Possibilities?

Is my career simply the hiccup-hiatus to the wonderful world of mommyness that surely awaits?

Maybe the world is not deaf; maybe I have been too quiet.

I need to change my actions so that when I shout that “I have great news”, the possibilities of what such greatness could be is not an automatic assumption on the part of my audience. 

I’m going to give my audience--those to whom I would share good news with first--the benefit of the doubt. I choose to believe they are not stuck in the world of boxed-in gender roles; I choose to believe that I am the problem. I have not made it abundantly clear that I am capable of great things; that people should assume nothing--not motherhood, career changes, academic strides, or personal epiphanies.

Assume nothing, because:

I am a writer.

I am a runner.

I am a babysitter.

I am an editor.

I am a scholar.

I am a reader.

I am a wife.

I am a friend.

I am an ambitious motherfucker.

Oh, and I am not pregnant. 

*Note - This is not a statement bashing women or motherhood, but a lament of the Automatic Assumption. 
I believe motherhood is a gift, a sacred title many are denied. I am not a feminist who looks down on those who are blessed enough to be called "mother". I do not go to war with those who choose to raise children rather than a career any more than I deify those whose arms carry babies instead of briefcases.

I am delighted that many of my friends are becoming mommies. 

Should the day come, should I ever be ready, I would be humbled to carry a child into this world. Until then, and even after, assume nothing. 

Urban White Trash: At least there is a pineapple

Urban White Trash: At least there is a pineapple: Last night James came home early which was more surprising than what he carried. James [poking his head through the front ...

At least there is a pineapple

Last night James came home early which was more surprising than what he carried.

James [poking his head through the front door]: I read the other day that owning pets tends to lower stress levels.

Me: Hey! You’re home!

[James enters the house carrying a suspiciously heavy bag]

Me: Wait…what are you carrying?

James [smiles guiltily]: I wanted you to not be stressed so—

Me [now suspicious]: I’m not stressed. At all. But I feel like I'm going to be....

James:….I bought you fish.

[He holds two plastic bags up, smiling like he’d won an Olympic race]

Me [sighing]: James. We can’t take care of a fish.

James: Good, because there are three, not just one.

[He plops the bags on the counter; something inside darts back and forth.]

James: I’ll even let you name them.

Me: I don’t want to name them, because I don’t want to be responsible for fish. They’re so judgmental!

James [speaking over me]: And if you’re nice, I’ll even let you name our puppy.

[dead silence]

[James walks out the front door and comes back carrying a box]

Me [glaring, quiet]: Is that a motherflippin' puppy?!

James: No Jessa. This is the fish tank. Duuuh.

Me: We are not getting a dog.

James: I want you to have a puppy for when I leave for the military.

Me: I don’t want to have to train a dog by myself.

[James pouts and starts unpacking the rather large fish tank]

James: You wouldn’t have to, Jessa. Gosh, you make me sound so irresponsible.

Me: You JUST said you were leaving for the military, which means you won't be around. Which means I'll have to train the dog.

[James picks up the bags of fish]

James [pointing to the skittish animals]: I call this one Baha Mountain Dew Blast, that one Taco Bell Grande, and that one Soft Shell Supreme.

[I start to smile]

[James looks up and a smile explodes on his face]

James: Hey! You’re happy!

Me: You are lucky I find you cute. Next time, talk to me before adding three specimens to our family.

James [huffing]: Jessa. Come on. I didn’t even know that I was getting fish. I walked into Wal-Mart to buy Draino and came out with fish.

Me: Did you at least remember the Draino?

James [triumphantly]: Yes!

[I go back to the couch and start to mutter something in Chinese, glancing up occasionally to see James happy and busy with his new fish tank.]

James: I can’t hear what you are saying, but I totally disrespect and disagree with it.

Meet Twitchy, Ron Swanfishson and Baha Mountain Dew Blast.
At least they have a pineapple.