Thursday, July 8, 2010

It's a Nerd! It's a Brain! It's... My Husband!

So, guess where my dearest husband is at this very moment. If you guessed that he’s at a midnight showing of Star Trek II: Wrath of Khan, then you’re absolutely right! Okay, so you didn’t guess it, but that’s okay. Why would he be there, you may ask? Because he’s a nerd. He’s always been a nerd. He’ll always be a nerd. Yes, I knew he was a nerd long before I married him, and that’s okay with me. I’m quite fond of my Lego-loving, Star-Wars-quoting, History-teaching, Super Trekkie, in fact.

I’ve been married to my delightfully nerdy husband for almost seven years now (our anniversary is in a couple weeks), and I’ve been attached to him for about thirteen. That’s quite a chunk of my life considering I haven’t yet reached my thirtieth birthday. So, what have I learned about my heavenly hubby so far? To start, he is classically white. And I do mean white. I like to joke that his glowing white legs guided my way to him when the power went out one stormy evening, but it’s really not a joke. It’s a true story.

After his overwhelming whiteness, there’s his corny jokes. Upon seeing a passing hearse (empty, I hope), his comment was, “If the hearse has done this before, doesn’t that make it a re-hearse?” Feel free to groan and roll your eyes. I do. Frequently. Then there are the Star Wars quotes. So many Star Wars quotes! And who knew that lines from Star Wars could apply to so many situations? Apparently, I didn’t.

Even though my nearest and dearest revels in his extreme nerdy-ness, and he has more Legos than 10 or 15 entire families should have combined, I wouldn’t be without him. My nerd is the best husband, life partner, and father to our daughter (soon to be daughters) I could ask for. I am so blessed to have him in my life, and I think I’ll start telling him so more often.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Sale Me Away

This weekend was our big garage sale. *gasp* On a holiday weekend? Of course! That’s the best time, since nobody else is foolish enough to have their garage sale on a holiday weekend. That, and it’s right after the first of the month, so people still have money. Of course, every time we have a garage sale, I always say how horrible it is and how I will never ever ever do it again and how I’ll just be heading to Goodwill or Mission Arlington next time I need to get rid of junk. And then what do I do? I convince myself, in the end, to go through the trouble all over again. The results from that decision this time? Some were good, some bad.

On the good front, we sold out of almost everything on Friday, so we didn’t have to open at all on Saturday. The extra sleep on Saturday was really nice. Plus, the weather wasn’t too bad on Friday. It was cool and cloudy, and a little bit sticky, but much better than the usual garage sale forecast of baking sun and shrivelingly hot temperatures. There’s nothing quite like being held hostage by your junk at a small table in the abject heat all day, idly dripping sweat down unmentionable places.

On the bad front, we got mauled on Friday. We had people showing up at least half an hour early, and it was crazy for a good two hours. There were people everywhere, and nobody put stuff back where it was supposed to go, and everybody wanted to buy stuff in the garage that wasn’t for sale. Oh, and then there was the fact that everybody wanted to ask questions at the same time, test out things with plugs at the same time, and pay for their junk—I mean treasures, at the same time. The only other bad thing was the weather. While it was nice and cloudy and cool, it also rained on us at the end and forced us to close early.

So, how do I feel after this, unusually good, garage sale? I am never ever ever doing this again. Next time I’ll just head straight to Mission Arlington.