Housewife Boredom

See, when you're a housewife you tend to get bored. I have no children and just a cat to look after. My husband takes the car to work, so I am left in our apartment to clean and do whatever else I can manage to get myself into so I made these two short little videos online. :)

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

My Family

So, as I sit here, realizing I should probably be cleaning our 1000 square foot apartment, I can't help but think about my family back east. I'm 21, living with my husband on the other side of the country. I have no family out here and am just now starting to make some new friends. No, I'm not feeling sorry for myself, but merely thinking. This is the second time I have moved out of my house that I grew up in. The first? Ah, that was a semester at college 15 minutes down the road. I went home quite often then. I left "home" to make my new "home" with my husband on December 28, 2009. It hasn't been too long, but I still miss my family. My dad came out to visit me for a weekend, but when he left, I realized how homesick I really was. I had a mental breakdown maybe 3 days after my he left. I just couldn't help it.

All of the memories start to flood back. I remember being the ungrateful little teenager who back-talked and hurt my parents. I used to think my dad was "annoying" and was so irritable with my mom. Looking back. I should have never been like that to them. They provided everything for me and spoiled me like I was an only child. I was only like that through my teenage years, but it hurts because those are the years that I can remember most. Of course, I remember the few months before I moved out here with Evan because I was trying to cherish the time and make memories.

Right before I left I remember dad told me he wanted "Everything packed up" whether I was taking it or not. I cried. I packed up my things in boxes, labeling them. Yeah, it's a part of growing up and a part of life, but it's still hard, none-the-less. I remember my brother texting me, from right across the hall, to try and be quiet because he was trying to sleep. I cried then too. I wouldn't be bothering him much longer.

My family and I were close, and still try to be. My dad is a hunter and I have been hunting with him many of times. My brother was an athlete, just like myself, so we shared the same interests. We learned a lot from one another and could always point out mistakes that others were making. My mom was always there for me when it came to relationships. She's the strongest woman I know. Of course, we all hit bumps in the road, but we still cherished our love and put love above all.

I can't wait to go back to Ohio, though. I miss them a lot. I will be going to watch my brother in one of the proudest moments of his life. High School Graduation. I hope I can make it to a track meet or two also.

I love my family.

An Adventure of Our Own

We went to the farmer's market today. They close down an entire street in the middle of the city for different vendors to come in and market/sell their food or trinkets. It's always tough to find a parking spot and tough to try and navigate around this entire mess so the hubby finds a parking spot. A tight parking spot. I try not to cringe as my car is being maneuvered into this mini-cooper-type-spot. He finally gets the car parked and we venture our way into the crowd.

Mind you, this is California. We are from the backwoods in Ohio. Big difference. I couldn't help but notice, like I do each and every time we are out, that there are lots of different kinds of people. They all have their own style, and for some reason I still can't fathom why some of them actually go out in public looking the way that they do. It blows my mind. I mean, I'm not the girl who stands in front of the mirror taking an hour to two hours to get ready, but I at least comb my hair.

Walking down the road at this farmers market we see a band, a bluegrass band. This is where it hits home for me. My grandpa loves bluegrass music, so instantly I felt at home. This was until I looked at the band. Quite interesting to say the least. Now, I don't judge people by what they wear or what they look like, I am simply saying, this was different. When I think of bluegrass I think old fellers with white hair. Well, only one of these guys had white hair and he was the bango player. One guy was young, had dreadlocks and a beard. He was wearing a beat up shirt and shorts and socks with sandles, typical hippie attire? Sure, why not. Another guy looked to be in his thirties-early forties, and the last guy, ehh I don't remember. It was just an odd combination of people, in my opinion.

Then, my husband had to use the "head". This is one of those things that he says to constantly remind me that he is in the military. So, we went to a Taco Bell. It was just a convenient public place to stop and take a potty break. My husband went up to the door to the restroom and couldn't get in. He came back to the table that I was sitting at and I asked if he had even read the door. He, obviously said no. There was a huge sign on the door that said to ask the front for accessibility to the restroom. So, he decided that we should probably purchase something so we could use their restroom. We did. Evan figured they'd give him a key to get in, but instead they pressed a button from behind the counter and it let him in. Odd. So, I just waited for him to finish so I could get in. I went in, and being a girl, I wanted to check the mirror. However. There wasn't one.

When I came out of the restroom, I saw Evan looking out the window. He was in a trance, or maybe stare would do this action more justice. I looked out the window just to see random people walking by. I reached the table and Evan explained to me, "I just legit saw a man open the trash can right there and eat something out of it." Mind you, my husband was eating, and the trashcan was maybe 10 feet from us, sitting outside. "I wanted to just buy him a taco, that was so gross", my poor husband looked like he had been traumatized for life. Ha. I probably would have been too if I had seen it. That, my friend, is a homeless person. He wasn't one of those typical panhandlers we are used to seeing on the streets of Cincinnati on our way to a Red's game. Wow.

Then, a woman is standing outside the window looking around frantically as if she had lost something. She was dressed very nicely and looked a bit too fancy to be roaming around the market. She finally spotted what she was looking for, a nice big flower pot. She placed her huge coach bag on it and dug around and pulled out a pair of shoes. I kept thinking to myself, "please please tell me you have shoes on". She did. She changed her shoes from black heal to black heal. I guess the others were either A) more comfortable or B) less comfortable, but more dressy. No idea.

After the farmer's market we wanted to go see Alice in Wonderland in 3D. We go in, find a seat and wait. A man walks in carrying two pillows. They were like the pillows you'd sit on your Aunt Gertrude's antique chair. They had tassels on them and that horrid green color you'd imagine from back in the 70's. Evan and I just looked at each other and then back at the man. He stuffed them behind his back, making himself right at home. Now, this isn't just some old theater, this is a nice theater with padded seating and reclining-like chairs. We laughed, but then Evan points out, he now has his shoes off and his feet are up on the railing. Ok, wow. Have you ever been out before, sir? I mean, your socks are falling off of you, you have your shoes off, feet up on the railing, and pillows behind your back in a public nice theater! Next thing you know, we might look over and he is snoozing and we will have to weasel our way around him just to get out of the row!

So, Cali, hmm, I still don't know what to think about you. People are odd, and it's always fun to watch, but man, you can tell I'm not from here, nor do I want to be from here. There are some good people in Cali, but a lot of them, they are just strange! Haha.

Fairy tale? I think so.

So it's been a while since I have posted anything, or even looked on my blog, but I figure I don't have anything else to do, so why not tell you about how I come to met my husband. Oh, wait, who am I kidding? I have tons to do, but just do not feel like doing them. Ha. Procrastination might as well be my middle name. Jessica Procrastination Resor....sounds great!

To get back on subject, Evan and I met in June 2006. I had just graduated from high school, just got out of a relationship, and I had nothing better to do then to work all summer. I hated that dreadful place, but was making more than enough on the hour. Every day I would wake up and have a battle with myself. It just seemed like a huge hassle to go to a place where I would sweat and get dirty. I worked at Airborn/DHL. It was what held our small city economy together, and I hated that place. I had been working there for about a year. I was hard at work, sorting boxes, when my supervisor asked me to go to a different area. The area I was assigned to was an area that I was unfamiliar with, so it took me a while to find it. I was looking all around for this area, and I was just about to give up when I finally saw the stairs to it. So, I walked up and started sorting more boxes when I felt like someone was staring at me. I looked to my right and there was a puny kid with spikey hair looking my way. He had the biggest grin on his face. I thought to myself, "do I know him". I came to the conclusion that I had no idea who he was, so I decided to approach him and strike up conversation. Now, we weren't supposed to be talking while we worked, it dropped our "productivity" or something like that. We were trying to be inconspicuous about our talking so they wouldn't send me back, but our conversation was pretty intense. We were bound and determined to find out every detail of one another. Both of us had just gotten out of a relationship so we were both pretty flirty?

I remember exactly what he was wearing. He had a cut off with a giant Pepsi logo and on the back it said "Resor" with a big number "20" on it. I remember because I asked him his name and he was like "Evan" and then I asked his last name and he just pointed to his shirt. It was funny because I was like...umm.."how do you pronounce that?" He laughed and said it for me, but he had to repeat himself several times for me to hear him. The loud conveyor belts were annoying me and all I wanted to do was talk to this guy. As we were talking I kept thinking, "is he gonna ask for my number?". I didn't think he was going to so I took a big step and asked him if he wanted mine. He said yes, so he went and grabbed a scrap piece of paper, which happened to be part of his check stubb, and gave me his. I was worried at first because they were making me leave and he hadn't made it back yet, so I hesitated a little and started to walk out when I saw him round the corner! He passed me and handed me the tiny piece of paper with his phone number. We smiled at each other and I went back to my original area. I wasn't expecting him to hand me HIS number, but I went with it and couldn't stop smiling the rest of the day. When I left work that day I remember getting in my car and as soon as I turned my phone on I called him. It went to voice mail! He was still in work, so I left him a message and he called me back within a couple of hours. I remember thinking, "this guy is totally not my type", but I took the giant leap, as did he, and we hit it off from the very beginning.

Now, tell me that's not a fairy tale right there, ladies and gents? I can't believe it all worked out when we were merely just flirting with one another. Who would have thought! God works in mysterious ways is all I can think of....and that the princess did find her prince!!