Me & the Mister. Reverse photo on the iPhone sucks. Sorry about the fuzzy.
I’ve noticed several new people commenting, liking P&P on Facebook, saying “Yo, lady, I read your blog.” (People still say “yo,” right?) So, I thought it might be a good idea to kind of re-introduce myself. Tell you a little bit about me.
Hi, I’m Jen.
I love coffee and George W. That’s really all you need to know about me.
But I’ll tell you more anyway.
I’m 26 years old, which is young, regardless of what my husband may tell you. But that’s just to make his 33-year-old self feel better about his old age.
Obviously I’m a wife (who sucks at the Stepford thing), and I’m also a StepMom to a couple of pretty cool kids.
I have two furbabies, Daysie & Piper, who follow me everywhere I go. Seriously. Sometimes, I shut them in a room and then just walk around the house – just because no one’s following me.
I wear leggings as pants. Go ahead. Judge me, I don’t care.
I have a thing for pitchers. Not like tobacco-chewin’, spitting-on-the-mound, Nolan Ryan pitchers. Like, water pitchers. Pretty ones. I want them all.
And books. I love books. Not necessarily to read, but really just to put on my bookshelves.
I mean, sometimes I read them, too.
When I am cooking with eggs, I alternate taking eggs from each corner, diagonally. This keeps things balanced. There’s really no other way to do it.
Also, when I’m cooking eggs, I always make a couple extra, just for my Piper girl. (Maybe this is why she follows me around?)
I wish I hadn’t named my dog Piper, because I really like the name for a human child.
Also, Cash, which is my old dog’s name. Think my future kids would find that disturbing? Eh.
Sometimes, I leave my chipped nail polish on for days. And my husband calls me a 16 year old. Which I don’t hate.
I think Little Debbie Christmas Trees are just about the best thing ever, just beating out Little Debbie Valentine Hearts. You know, because they’re so different.
I should work out. But I don’t. Like, ever. I mean, unless you count carrying the vacuum back to where it goes. Actually, don’t count that. I usually just prop it up in the corner of whatever room I just vacuumed. Unless you count that as a work out, and then be my guest.
One time, I went to a Billy Ray Cyrus concert and rushed the stage when he sang Achy Breaky. I’m not talking 1987 here – mainly because I would have been all of one year old. This was definitely last year. And he still had a mullet.
I’m not funny in real life.
I’m not funny in fake life, either.
The End.
**So, now that you know me, let me know you. Comment below (come on, people!) – especially if you never have. I’d like to know who reads this silly thing.
Uh, actually I do the same thing with eggs, the corner spacing thing. Who would have thunk. Sorry for the “pants” comment it wasn’t meant for you and it came out wrong…sooo… forgive and forget, PLEASE. love you favorite!!!
Oh, I know. You hate my butt in skinny jeans, Mamaw. 😉 Just make me some potato salad, and all will be forgiven.
P.S I love reading your blog!!
I pretty much knew all of these things about you.. Except for the egg thing. But it doesn’t surprise me one bit. But thanks anyway for the refresher course on all things Jen. 🙂
And now I just want a Little Debbie Christmas Tree!
I should have mailed them to you because I’ve had three now. Ugh.
Heh. My dog has a human name (not of my choosing) so why not a kid with a dog name. Plus I know a really cute kid named Cash, so I say.. go for it! 🙂
My husband would never, EVER let me name a child Cash. Which saddens me.
I think you’re funny in real life 🙂
Maybe you’re easily amused? haha