Archive for November, 2011


Brad and I text each other a lot.

A few days ago I read back through some of them.

Here’s a little sample of some texts I’ve received over the last few months.

B: (That stands for Brad. Just thought I’d help you out here.) Having lunch in China Town.

J: (That stands for  Julie. Which is my name) Just got a free sandwich at Chick Fil A.

B: Just left the President.

J: Can you bring me a Hershey bar on your way home?

B: Just ran into Owen Wilson at the elevator.

J: I got the cable dude to reduce our payment by $90!

B: Just bumped into the bass player for Aerosmith. They must be playing here tonight.

J: Walking Avery. Just bumped into a squirrel.

B: Taking Tucker to get his ears pierced.

J: We need to file our taxes.

B: CNN called. They want to fly me to Mexico City to film a raid where they plan to rescue underage children. They’ll use the footage on their final Freedom Project for the year.

J: Still can’t find the car keys.

Here’s one in order:

B: A limo picked me up and took us to the steak house.

J: I heard. Katie told on you already. What is the deal with all of this?

B: No… that was Friday night. This is a different one.

And my personal favorites.

B: Btw… a motto from my host. Go braless…it pulls the wrinkles out of your face.

J: Woah. My phone is drunk.

Okay. That’s enough for today. I have to go not see cool people and not go to dinner in limos.

Wish me luck.



(I wrote this like a hundred years ago. But then I saw Max’s friend Brandon cooking in my kitchen, and it all came back to me. Poor kid. He makes his own food at my house. What kind of person am I?)

This is about when I made food with Yen.

Yen said she’d be at my house at 10.

Around 11, I called her and asked her if we were still making food happen.

She said yeah, I’ll be there in a few.

Tay had an appointment at a special tooth doctor this day also, at 1:00.

She has a tooth problem. It’s really a big deal.

She has no teeth.

Okay, she has some, but not all.

So we need to get her some.

But I needed to learn to make Vietnamese eggrolls and fat noodles.

So I got into Yen’s car.

And then we started driving away from Boulder. This was completely unexpected. I have no idea why, since I’ve never graced the door of any Asian market, ever.

(Notice they are not called Oriental Markets. I was once told by a sweet Asian friend that Oriental things are rugs, not people. Big no no.)

I asked Yen why we weren’t shopping in Boulder.

She told me that the only place to shop in town had been shut down by the health officials three times, and that she (Yen) was no longer welcome at this shop. She didn’t elaborate. I didn’t ask.

We ended up in Broomfield. I think. (I was texting an incredibly stressed out Brad this whole time arranging for him to take Tay to the tooth doctor. He was greatly displeased but values both eggrolls and Taylor’s face, so he agreed.)

This market was awesome.

I’ve never seen so many colors.

Or dead ducks on hanger things.

Or dough full of stuff I’ve never heard of.

Have I mentioned that the first time I ate Chinese food was in college?

We shopped forever, I got stared at a lot (I was very tall in there), managed to avoid food with legs and I spent only $18 for every ingredient.

This is Yen.

She has 4 boys she is raising alone. Her husband was killed in a car accident the first year we moved to Boulder and I immediately decided we would be friends. Max and her son, Brandon, are best friends, so I guess this was the right call. Her family used to own a restaurant, but she put herself through nursing school. And now she’s my hero.

She also cooks with chopsticks.

I had no idea people did that.

We started with eggrolls.

She threw tons of stuff in a bowl and started mushing it. With her hands.


Then we wrapped the goop. It’s the same as wrapping a burrito, except sideways.

This should be more of a triangle. Whatever.

I employed several children to help. (Brandon was thrilled about this. He’s lactose intolerant. Max lives off of cheese. Brandon was secretly hoping he would have more options when he comes over.)

She fried them with chopsticks. I mean, really.


Golden brown. This takes patience.

Then we were on to the noodles. Yen got in her car and said “I’ll be right back.”


She lives around the corner. She comes back with a knife. A sharp one.

I only have serrated steak knives to cook with.

Not acceptable.

The woman went home and brought back a knife.

Me: Yen. Did you just go home and get a knife?

Yen: Yeah. Your knives are terrible.

Me: I know.

Yen: Here. Try to cut this chicken with this knife.

Me: Okay.

Yen: You’re terrible.

Me: I know.

Yen: Cut against the grain.

Me: I thought chickens only ate grain?

Yen: What?

Me: Nevermind.

Then we made noodles with onions and other stuff. And then we ate it. It was delicious.

And exhausting.

Yen gave me her knife.

The End.

I observe

Today, I hated the extra hour. I already can’t stand the sun going down. What’s all the freakin rush?

I won a free pizza from Papa John’s and I also have accumulated enough points for 3 free. I’m in gluten heaven.

I might be allergic to gluten. Or I’m just getting fat.

Or something.

I think if I were a sister wife, I’d be on Snapped.

And lots of kids would go missing. Who would notice?

There’s a very weird man who just started parking his RV next door. Every day. ¬† My dog loves him. I’m suspicious.

My husband has gone to Mexico to meet the President and confab about government stuff. Which is cool. And mysterious. And probably dangerous.

I miss that man.

Toddlers and dogs have no idea what time it is.

I might try out for the X Factor. But only after I get toned. Those over 30’s don’t stand a chance this year. And really, neither do I next year. But wouldn’t that be a fun train wreck to watch? I promise to whine a ton. And never wear waterproof mascara. And have a baby right before.

I have a new nickname. It’s Crazy Ellen. This person appears after one too many conversations with teenagers. And one too many. I just decided that was a funny thing to say.

It’s probably not.

Yeah, it is.

It’s only 8.

God help me.