THAT's why we can't have nice things...

First, I would like to thank Parker for the title of this post as this would be exactly what she texted back to me when I relayed to her the tragic story below...

Second, I would like to tell you a little story about my day. I've been thinking all day of a pretty awesome blog to post, and I've had my fair share of potential stories to share. I mean, I started the day by literally jumping in bed with Ace and singing to her to wake up so that she could drive me to work in the scary snow. Then, I had multiple people either text me to be careful or check on my drive after I arrived to work (because they're just as terrified to have me on the roads as I am to be there)...in fact, half of Beri even commented on how he was glad I had Sarah to drive me! After this, Ace tells me, "you know for as independent, bossy, and controlling as you are, you still need me," which clearly is a blog post in itself!

But, the story below takes the cake (I wonder where that saying came from...seriously, take the cake?! [pause *Jams googles "take the cake saying"...for more information on this saying (which is from the south!!) see this link])...

So, after picking up my car, mailing a package, vacuuming, loading the dishwasher, and washing the floor, I decide to take a shower (harmless enough, right?)... After completing my shower, I reached down to turn off the water (also a completely normal, harmless activity)...and that's when it happened...I BROKE the cold water. How does this happen one asks? I have no idea! Maybe I turned it a little too hard, or maybe the faucet just ran it's last race. Whatever the case be, after 10 minutes of sitting on the edge of the shower and texting people for sympathy, I realized that I am, in fact, not a plumber. I had just about reserved myself to showering in the sink in the morning when I realized that I may be able to turn the hot water heater down to a tolerable temperature (as it's currently near the temperature of what I think hell might feel like...seriously...). I'll let you know how this works out in the morning...

So, the question is....do I tell Ace, or do I let her figure out for herself?

And, yes, THIS is why we can't have nice things...

Poor Little Youshi

So, one individual in our family rarely, if ever, makes the blog, but today the poor lil dear is the highlight. Now as his mom, I recognize that I may be a little biased on some accounts....although, I will willingly acknowledge that he has terrible breath, sheds like....well something that sheds a lot, and lately, he will sit at the edge of the couch and bark his little lungs out. And, yes, sometimes he scares the mess out of me in the middle of the night when I roll over and he barks like he's being attacked (I sometimes fear that he may eat me in my sleep). All of these things make the pound an ever more looming possibility.

However, from the moment I first saw his little seizure-having self, it was love at first sight. Yup, I love the little freak, and could never send him to the pound... However, sweet little innocent Ace is another story...

In Ace's defense, she does have a history of allergies, and shedding is not the most attractive quality in an animal. And, one of the first times Ace walked Youshi, he did have a seizure in the parking lot...This being said, if Youshi ever disappears....call Ace.

Yup, Ace, the pre-meditated, doggie murderer. Ace will regularly threaten poor little (30ish lb) Youshi with the pound, starvation, removal of the vocal cords, and death. In fact, today, Parker and Ace planned where Youshi would like to have his ashes spread...they also discussed the different murder methods and options of body disposal...doggie murders I tell you. And poor little, clueless Youshi doesn't even know what's coming...

Now you see why I had to use the red pillow???

I'm pretty sure it's 2012... right now

Ok people, a cosmic shift has happened and the world is unaware. I (Ace) feel it is my job... scratch that... DUTY, to let the world know that something of epic proportions has happened. I hate it when it is my job to be the one that has to give bad news. Its a stinky job, everyone hates you... but I guess I'll be the responsible one and just go for it...

Maybe it was brought on by the meteor shower. Is it a full moon? Perhaps it is the Twilight hysteria messing with peoples brains. I have a team of scientists out researching the cause right now. Regardless the cause, it is a reality people... gosh I don't even know how to tell you all ... K, I'll just spit it out...

You know how this blog is really "a chronicle of the adventures of ace and jammie"... well that is just a scam. It really is just a way for Ace to pick on Jams and tell funny stories without getting the *@#^ kicked out of her. I know... I'm just in full disclosure, honesty mode right now. But seriously I'm passive aggressive... or maybe just realize that Jams could beat me to a pulp and this is my only way to fight back. Come to think of it, I let her post on here too... giving her access to harass me... I just realized. i. am. an. idiot.

I digress... this weekend was the epic weekend where the tables were turned and Ace got picked on.

I'm letting that soak in.

I don't know how it happened people, but it did. It all started at TGIF (girls night), and Jams got on a roll of picking on me. It started off as just verbal threats, and teasing. But eventually it turned violent. I honestly can't remember all the things that were said, but when it turned ugly I remember every moment. I was sitting on the couch calmly, being the best of friends and watching endless, ENDLESS, hours of a mind-numbing sport where men in tights throw around a ball (NO it's not figure skating... that at least would be watchable!)... so there I sit bored out of my mind when I feel my glasses getting shoved into my eyeballs by a red pillow that is repeatedly getting slammed into my face. I blacked out and when I awoke a few minutes later, Jams is standing over me laughing like the wicked witch. Tears streaming down my eyes, I ask her one simple question

WHY?

She just looks at me blankly and beats me into senseless obviation.

Or at least that is how I remember the story.

If you could think of a different name for me...

Back after a long period of dormancy are......(*drumroll please*)....ACE AND JAMMIE!! (*crowd goes wild*)

So, last night, after a hearty dinner of spaghetti and meatballs, Ace and Jams went on an adventure to Macy's and Barnes and Noble. Now, these could be quite exciting events...except for the fact that we drove all the way to Macy's to buy makeup...and not just any makeup...the kind of makeup that costs $15 for one stinking color of eyeshadow (Jams openly admits her eyeshadow addiction at this point). Then, we went to Barnes and Noble for not just any book....we went for the 6th edition of the APA Style Manual. Yes, we are that cool. Jams was quite disappointed that they did not have the complete style manual and reluctantly spent entirely too much money on the "Concise Rules of APA Style."

Now, I know that you all think that this is quite enough excitement for one blog post, but it doesn't end there. On the way home, Ace turns to Jammie and says, "My brother wanted to name me a Russian name like Sasha or Natasha...can you even imagine that being my name?" (Ace at this point starts to say Tasha and Natasha in various versions of a Wisconsin Russian accent (yes, there is such thing)). She then asks, "If my name weren't Sarah, what would you think would be a good name for me?" (Note: I did not point out the randomness of either of these comments but definitely thought about the randomness quietly to myself)

At this point, Jams immediately starts to rack her brain as she realizes the importance (and potential disaster) of answering this question. Jams quickly cut out the first three options that came to her mind as they were inappropriate and started to go down the list of other potential names. Ace had also started to think of alternative names for Jams, so the next 3 or 4 minutes in the car would involve silence, followed by us looking at each other to see the fit of the name that we had in mind. Jams arrives at Ashley...Ace says, "Oh, Ash for short...that could work except I only know stuck-up Ashley's." Ace then shares her idea and says, "I could see Jasmine being your name...." After this, Jams exclaims, "Jasmine?!?! Seriously, you couldn't think of anything better than that?!" To which, Ace replies, "We could call you Jazzy for short." Jams can only think of the word jezebel associated with Jasmine for whatever reason and is quite taken aback. :) Ace quickly recovers and replies, "Or, we could call you Ann." So, Ann and Ash it is...

A Man in a Hole

There's a man in a hole in the middle of the street
There's a man in a hole in the middle of the street
There's a man in a hole
There's a man in a hole
There's a man in a hole in the middle of the street

There's a hat on the man in the hole in the middle of the street
There's a hat on the man in the hole in the middle of the street
There's a hat on the man
There's a hat on the man
There's a hat on the man in the hole in the middle of the street

There's a name on the hat on the man in the hole in the middle of the street
There's a name on the hat on the man in the hole in the middle of the street
There's a name on the hat
There's a name on the hat
There's a name on the hat on the man in the hole in the middle of the street

There's a flea on the name on the hat on the man in the hole in the middle of the street
There's a flea on the name on the hat on the man in the hole in the middle of the street
There's a flea on the name
There's a flea on the name
There's a flea on the name on the hat on the man in the hole in the middle of the street

Bedtime Stories

After a long day of strenuous, back breaking labor, Ace and Jams went home in order to change really fast to go on a hike with Parker (Note: This hike used to be waterfall canyon...now it's small stream coming over the edge of a mountain canyon).

Following the hike (and an awesome sunset), Ace and Jams went to their favorite place to eat, Texas Roadhouse, where they ordered the same food they always do. Then, they went home and watched tv until it was time to rest their little heads.

Jams went to bed first, as she usually does. After a few minutes, Jams and Ace had a text message conversation that went a little something like the following:

Jams: I can't sleep. You should tell me a story.

Ace: You have only been in there 2 minutes. Try counting sheep.

Jams: I used to have sheep. Their names were Jack and Jill. Jill was pudgy and Jack won a prize at the fair. He had to pee in a cup...in case he was doing drugs.

Ace: Once upon a time there were 2 girls. The went hiking on a mountain. They climbed rocks, sang songs, took pictures, and watched the sunset. They got eaten by bears. The end.

Jams: Now, I'm gonna have nightmares. Thanks a lot.

Ace: Your sheep did drugs? Didn't he hear that he should hug not drug?

Jams: He didn't do drugs...cept for cigarettes, of course. They gave him a drug test just in case though. There are sketchy sheep out there ya know...

Ace: Lol. Go to bed. Leave the shady sheep for the bears.

Jams: Yes, mam. I'm blogging about our bedtime stories by the way. :) Night!

The End.

Slow and Painful Death (or The Half Part II)

I didn't know I had feet for 4 days.

I couldn't bend down to see them so after a while I forgot they existed. But after taking bottles of advil, following S.Padilla stretching recommendations, and sleeping 14 hours a night I was able to move just enough to realize this morning that I had feet. I could see my toes!!! For the four day's I didn't know I had feet.... I blame Jams.

Seriously you all have stories of when you succumbed to the charms of Jam. She is kind of like the snake in Jungle Book... trussssst in meeeee... and for some reason we all do as she says. So don't blame me for giving in and agreeing to do this half marathon, it really is true that Jam's made me do it!

Here is the story....
4am the alarm goes off. I open my door about the time that Jams opens her door. I'm pretty sure that we could have been casted on the spot for the Halloween II movie... dark circles under the eyes, hair matted... no words were needed for us to start laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of our state. Showers, oatmeal, water, 12 advil.. and we are good to go.

4:35am we are on the road heading to Logan. It is darker than dirt, colder then h*ll, and all that can be heard is the radio.... you know it is early when Ace and Jams are silent. So let me give you a little insight on what might be going on in their heads.... now I only officially know what is going on in one head, the other is complete speculation.

Ace: I don't like mornings. Never have never will. Why didn't I sneek into Jams room last night and turn off her alarms? I could have been asleep in my bed. I don't even like running. We are going to look so dumb being the last people to drag our sorry asses across the finish line. What if we don't finish. We are going to be mocked at work. Like Banana man needs any more fuel for mocking... I wonder if I started giving Jams wrong directions if we will miss the start. I hate mornings.

Jams: skip, skip... oh hey we running a half... skip, skip.

5:30ish am: It is still pitch black outside when we arrive. We have to walk across an entire park of wet grass to sign in. Parker will apprecitate the fact that wet feet is not a fun experience first thing in the morning. I almost break out laughing when the little race volunteers are made to do this little chant and listen to their head volunteer give some instructions. I want to die laughing still thinking about it. Off to the car to stow our sweatshirts and take more advil, and then on to the bus.

Time gets fuzzy: The whole way up we are listening to hard core runners talk about their races this summer. It is all a lot of runner chat that frankly I don't fully understand. I've now become a hard-core Christian and am praying for my life.... ok God, I'll totally go to church, talk to Parkers bishop, confess to Jam's priest, seriously God get me out of here. I'm gonna die! The skinny running people look hungry... I got meat on me, after the race they are going rock paper sissors over my dead body. I am to young to die!

Its about this time that I notice we have been driving a loooong time. And see a mile marker that says 14. OMG... we are driving our running course! It took forever to drive....I'm done. Ready to throw in the towel. Good joke guys... ha ha... let me go back to bed.

Exit the bus and we are hit by sub-zero temperatures (remember we didn't bring our jacket, they are in the car). I really had no idea that we had driven to the freakin NORTH POLE to run a half marathon, but I know that I can't kill Jams right then because the skinny runners would probably try nibbling on her for a pre-game snack. THEN... it happens... Jams decided to tell me our new game plan... we are going to beat the time of Berri (ha ha... good nickname!). Meaning we now have to RUN the course and not just walk it.

Okay... does anyone else here remember our training schedule? Ice cream, pizza, couch sitting... there was no running! I can walk relatively well... occasionally I walk into doors but nothing major... run? Well as it turns out I never knew that Jams could walk fast enough to break land-speed records. I pretty much had to run the entire marathon just to not be left in the dust!

We actually did really well. We were pretty quiet the whole thing... very wierd. We ran/walked at a good pace. Found a group of ladies at the beginning that were going our speed... and made them eat our dust. Then we came across the scary "pink shirt girl." we passed her, she passed us... this went on for 9 miles. The goal was to beat her... (brushing dust off my shoulder)... we not only beat her, we sent her crying home to mommy.

Moments of the race never to be forgotten.... Ace running down a steep embankment to bypass the port-o-johs only to realize she could not get back up the hill, and then had to run for a 1/2 mile to catch up to Jams, only to realize she was covered in burs. Jams, jumping a log for the same reason. Ace being given the hurry up little hand wave from Jams at random moments in the race...(no comment). Seeing the finish line! Sadness in realizing we lost to Berri by SIX minutes... and then hearing them say, "oh, ha ha we were not even trying, we were just enjoying the view."

Moral of the story: when Jams comes at you with snake charm, run away! You won't know you have feet for 4 days.