I’m Officially a Texan, Y’all

Well, it is official, after almost 7 years I, Jennifer Lynne Shidler, a born and raised Hoosier, am officially a Texan, and I have H-E-B to thank! YEEE HAW!

“But Jennifer, wouldn’t your “Texan” status have been granted the minute you got your driver’s license or purchased property?”

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Well, I can see how you would think these acts would make you a true Texan, but the truth is, this is a two-step process. You can accept Texas all you want and say “y’all hail Mary’s” until your face turns blue, but until Texas accepts you back, a true Texan you are not.

Low and behold, on Friday, November 9 2018 at 11:58 am I received my admission letter in the form of a Facebook notification.

“Facebook? How, ah, informal of them..”

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Hey! I don’t need a fancy document to prove my new-found state membership! Besides, some of the greatest most powerful people in the world use social media to get their points across and no one thinks any differently about them….(sigh)

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Anyway, back to how all this started. Earlier in the day I came across a Facebook video (watch it HERE) of a wayward Turkey who had accidently made its way into the living room of an unsuspecting couple. The video was cute, I had to hit the share button and tagged my favorite grocery store, HEB, and went about my day.

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What’s HEB you ask? Only the greatest supermarket ever (that’s right Kroger, I said it). They are based out of Texas and there are at least 7 of them within a half hour drive of my house. They are the only place I feel comfortable buying sushi from that isn’t a restaurant, they offer curbside pick-up and they deliver straight to your door. THEY DO IT ALL.

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I was putting away laundry and my phone went off. There it was. HEB commented on my post (blue verified check mark and all). In fact, not only did they acknowledge my existence with a comment, but they threw in an exclamation point and a winking face emoji just to boost my ego. Did we just become best friends? YEP!

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I always knew this day would come but I had no idea it would be on some idle Friday while in my pajamas folding laundry.

To my dear Indiana, it’s been a great ride. You taught me a lot about life and you will always be my first home, but I must go now. My grocery store needs me. Yall take care now, ya hear.

 

 

 

 

 

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Non-Writer/Writers Block

Several people have asked where I have been hiding this past few months. No blogs, no videos, I have vanished once again into thin air without explanation. I do have a reason, a shotty one to be honest. A perfect trifecta of incidents has combined to cause my absence. One-part travel, one-part motivation (or lack there-of) and one-part writers block. Well, non-writer-writers block. I am not completely convinced that jotting down every weird thought or scenario that comes into my head makes me “writer” just yet.

To be truthful, my truancy hadn’t bothered me much until my sister in law, Tifany, grilled me about my poor writing attendance in the middle of Barnes and Noble on a cold and rainy Thursday afternoon. I made a vague excuse about not having time and that I was just waiting for life to return to normal. I was partly hopeful but partly lying. To be honest, I am not sure what normal in my life looks like right now. If you assembled normal and other seasons of life in a line up, I would not be able to positively ID it.

My sister in law didn’t buy my excuse and well, neither did I. When they left to go back home to Indiana a few days later, she insisted that I write something soon or she would ground me.

Since no one at the age of 30 should be grounded, I decided to take action. With my travels for the year over (unless any of you readers want to send me on a cruise) and my new-found motivation pushing me forward, I have no other excuses than to tackle that pesky “writers block” excuse once and for all. #letsdothis

Here we are. Day 3 staring at this screen with nothing. I just keep glaring at this blinking curser. I wouldn’t say it’s mocking me just yet, but there have been a few times where I swear it just disappears to check and see if I’m still paying attention. I am, but barely. I have started, stopped and erased at least 4 different blog posts in the last 3 days. Is it still considered non-writers-writers block when 90% of the words you type are grammatically incorrect anyways? My theory has always been, you can make up for poor grammar as long as you make the reader laugh. It’s not like they will have time to whip out their red ink pen and fill up the margins with corrections if they are too busy wiping their tears and catching their breath from laughter, right?  Right!

So, what should I do when I don’t have a funny commentary to offer but still have a writing itch to scratch and a wonderful sister in law to appease? I guess just write something and hope you, the reader, see past the imperfections and stick around. I have nothing to bribe you with other than the promise that one day the funny will return and we will all once again rejoice as we “roll on the floor laughing” or whatever phrase the cool kids are using these days.

So that’s the plan. We are going to take this one day at a time. Some days will be funnier than others and some will be more grammatically coherent than others. The important thing is we will get through this together, mmkay!

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Today on Dr. Phil: Sibling Rivalry after 30..

Ten days, well, a year and ten days if you want to be specific. That’s what separates my brother and I, at least in terms of age. We technically missed the term of “Irish twins” by two hands worth of fingers, which is ok, because we aren’t really twins in any other category either.

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William, my brother, is the older, wiser sibling. Not that it was a competition or anything, (I think both parties need to be aware of the race for it to count) but he was always 1 step ahead of me in every category. If you are not already singing, “anything you can do, I can do better” in your head than you should be.

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William is taller than me, skinnier than me, had an honors diploma in high school, went to a “Big 10 College” (mine was more like a Big 10 sometimes college) and for the love of everything Holy, he always knew how to hook up my TV, DVD player and VCR up in a way that allowed them all to work properly. I still don’t know how to do that one.

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What are my “I can do anything better than you” moments you ask? Well, I learned our home phone number and address before him and made sure his preschool teacher Miss Anita knew about it. I can recite on command (although it’s a talent that is almost never requested) any theme song or useless commercial jingle from memory, and I did not hijack and wreck our Mom’s rider lawn mower in a “drive your tractor to school day” stunt in high school.

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We were not bad kids by any means. In fact, if you measure and rate the overall behavior of siblings by the number of times the police or fire departments were called, we were perfect angels. We did, however, have our fair share of fights and arguments that either ended with one person (William) locked in a bedroom, or a 3 way scream match via the phone to my mom’s office.

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These post school phone calls were conducted like a trial by jury. William and I would race off the bus, pick up a phone and dial our mom who would be expecting us. We did this so many times that even now, 20 years later, I still know her office number by heart. (765-569-3156 if you are wondering) We would each plead our case over her speaker phone as to why the other was in the wrong and my mom’s co-workers, all standing around her desk, would chuckle and tell us to leave each other alone and go to our room until the referee (mom) got home.

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Sometimes this would work but since I was built more like a lineman for the Chicago Bears and he was built more like the president of the chess club, I could pick a fight and usually secure a victory. Thanks again not only to my football physique but also to an incorrectly installed door knob that allowed me to lock his door from the outside. Although, William might have been on to something there. Why stay out in the living room and fight an annoying little sister when you can just “let” her win, and let her lock you in the room and finally gain the peace and quiet you longed for to begin with. Dang it.

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Anyways, I digress. William also flew the coop way before me as well. Now, I understand that this was bound to happen because he is in fact older than me, but it was like he flipped a switch over night and was suddenly an adult.  He got a “real” cell phone (none of that prepaid stuff) in 11th grade, which was rare back in the day, he bought his own car and car insurance years and I do mean years, before me and he even joined the Army National Guard so he could pay for college without any help from our mom. While I did pay for my college degree, my mom did buy me my first car my sophomore year of college and kept me on her car insurance until I got married. (Thank you mommy).

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So, what is this all about? While I admit that this does sound like an application to be on a dysfunctional episode of Dr. Phil, it is in reality, a poorly written letter of gratitude to my brother who is celebrating is 32nd birthday today. Even though it seems that I have painted a jealousy tinted portrait of sibling rivalry, I have more or less outlined all the ways William has pushed me to be a better version of myself and while sometimes I have fallen short of his bench mark, it is the race, imaginary or not, that keeps me going!

The phone calls we share today are no longer mini episodes of “The People’s Court” but more like two friends catching up at the end, or at the beginning, of a busy week. We tell jokes that makes the other laugh, give tv show recommendations, brag or complain about our pets and vent about the current stresses in our life.

I’m not sure when the switch was flipped, and we went from being siblings to friends, I’m just glad that it happened because I honestly don’t have the energy to lock you in your room any more. Enjoy your birthday and the next 10 days of being “2ish” years older than me!

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Quiz Me Friday: Guess The Song Edition

Hey Guys! It is Friday which means the weekend is upon us! Also upon us, is another “cliff notes” video for your non-reading pleasure!

Today, my husband has me play “guess the song”

Disclaimer: I have never and will never claim to be a good singer. With that said, I would NOT recommend watching this video with earbuds in and volume up high..unless tone deaf and off key is your kind of thing 😉

What kind of quiz should we do next week? Let me know in the comments 🙂

 

Enjoy!

 

 

Getting Old {ish} With Jennifer

A few weeks ago we explored the possibilities of whether I, Jennifer, of 30 year old sound{ish} body and mind, am in fact an adult, or instead an adult in training (read that post here). I decided that half of the issue may be that I’ve never really “applied and interviewed” for the position of adulthood. Being married and having a mortgage just isnt enough.

So to whom it may concern, might I present to you my Resume to Be an Adult for your review and acceptance.

The Ants Go Marching 1 by 1, Hurrah! Hurrah!

We did it! Matthew and I have been wanting to start our own business for a while, but we couldn’t decide what direction to go in. Luckily for us, a lucrative business opportunity presented itself and we just couldn’t turn it down.

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I know what you are thinking. “This is so sudden Jennifer, how did this happen?” Basically, our house had come under attack. Due to the drought in our area, ants, who generally live their lives outside, came inside in an attempt to find water. They seemed to really enjoy our spacious sink and views out our kitchen window. We spent days battling the pests, guests with no real success. It wasn’t until I saw an ant taking a refreshing dip in a measuring cup, that I realized they were just trying to escape the pressures and realities of life. (same here, ants, same here).

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So, might I formally introduce to you Château Shidler, Central Texas’s premier luxury ant resort!

 

 

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Relax

You are Welcome Here!

Tired of being turned away from every home you visit? Look no further! Chateau Shidler is a rustic 21st century home, which offers a mix of quaint and second-hand furnishings within. We are centrally located on a busy street with over 10 garbage cans for you to explore. Newly renovated hotels complete with 10 doors is guaranteed to fit you and 100 of your closest friends.

Sit Back and Relax

The Spa is set around a man-made, stainless steel pool with custom sponge floats. Looking for a more intement experience? Visit our candle lit serenity deck and lounge next to our cozy vinegar infinity pool.

Looking For More Of an “Active Retreat”

You are invited to climb one of our many scenic trails that take you down our custom stone back splash and over the majestic Keurig ridge to coffee mountain. For the thrill seekers, take the self-guided excursion up our 8-ft cabinet wall before diving down the island light fixture.

We Offer an Extensive Menu Guaranteed To Fit Every Taste:

  • Blue Buffalo Kibble (lamb and beef flavor)
  • Meow Mix (chicken flavor)
  • French Fries
  • Toast Crumbs
  • Pasta Sauce (Aged to perfection in our finest pans)
  • Hunter/Gatherer Packages available (Upon Request)

 

Thirsty? We Have A Wide Selection of Drinks

  • Vinegar Water
  • Droplets of Orange Juice
  • Stale Coffee
  • Milk (for an extra cost)
  • Raid

Resavations not required but prefered. 2 night minimum stay in our newly renovated hotel required for weekend and holiday guests. Earn bonus towards your next stay for referring us to your friends! Other places say if “You can check in, but you won’t check out” well, we will let you leave, if you take your friends with you.

Getting Old {ish} With Jennifer

You’ve heard of having a mid-life crisis, right? Well, I like to have a midnight crisis. My thought process at night when I should be sleeping but can’t is reminiscent of a hyper active squirrel struggling to bury all his nuts just days before hibernation. (googles to see if squirrels actually hibernate…they don’t). I am anxious, disorganized, and frantic.

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it appears squirrels and I have more in common than I thought

Lately we have been binge watching Comedians in Cars Drinking Coffee with Jerry Seinfeld as well as NBC’s Seinfeld. 3am rolled around rather quickly and I decided that I needed to go to sleep, so I turned the tv off in an effort to fall asleep. That didn’t work, so instead I took a stroll through IMDB for interesting facts on Jerry himself and the show (I live for IMDB trivia, it is my most used app after Facebook).

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That was when I saw it. At the time of the pilot of NBC’s Seinfeld, the character of Elaine is written to be the age of 27. 27 years old. This led me down the Wikipedia rabbit hole. Next thing I know I was the head of my own make believe census and was researching the ages of all my favorite characters during their debut on their respective shows. For instance, the cast of Friends are written to be in their mid 20’s when the show begins. Will & Grace, 30 years old. I’m 30, that can’t be right.

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Now I know what you’re thinking, “Who cares how old a fictional character is on a show that’s been off the air for 20 years?” Well, I do. You see, I grew up watching these shows and in my mind, those characters will always be “older” than me. They are real adults and I’m still a young adult, an imposter if you will, waiting to have my training wheels taken off.  They are a moving goal. No matter how old I get, I will never catch up to them. In reality, I kinda have. At season 1 episode 1 of any of these shows, I am supposed to be in the same stage of life as them. Yikes.

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Teach your adult to be an adultier adult in 5 days!

 

It seems so surreal to me. I don’t seem nearly as responsible as these people. (George Costanza, Joey Tribbiani are not included in this equation for obvious reason) I mean, if I was in a room with a bunch of people and something were to happen that an adult is needed, I don’t think I would raise my hand to volunteer right away. Not that I wouldn’t want to help, but because my first instinct would be to find a more adultier adult. It’s like when you fly and the flight attendants show you how to find the exits and remind you that sometimes the closest exit is behind you. Well, I would look around for an adultier adult forgetting that in some instances, the adultiest adult could be me. Lord help us all!

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