The Bean is my son. We call him The Bean because when I was pregnant all the books we read to learn about what the hell was happening to me compared the fetus size to the size of some kind of bean. (“Week 6: Your baby is the size of a black eyed pea!” “Week 9: Your baby is the size of a pinto bean!”) Not knowing yet if it was a boy or a girl, we started using ”The Bean” and it stuck, even long after we moved into fruit and vegetable territory.
The Bean was born in 2007 and he is perfect.
But enough about him. Let’s talk about me.
- I’m pushing forty and live in Austin, Texas, same town where I grew up. I had a somewhat misguided youth and took a brief sojourn to San Diego when I was 19, where I met my husband (the Big Bean) through a Scandalous Love Triangle — which all seemed very dramatic at the time but now just seems kind of silly.
- I don’t play the lottery because I’m genuinely surprised and disappointed when I don’t win.
- The Big Bean and I have been together forever. He can be a total JACK. ASS. sometimes but he makes me laugh at least once pretty much every day, so for now I’m keeping him.
- We have a cat, two frogs and two dogs. The Big Bean despises them all except Napoleon, our weiner dog who was found wandering on a busy highway and now spends his days dodging violently delivered hugs and kisses from the Bean.
- Simon the cat was our oldest pet until we lost him last year. Up to the day he died, I was convinced he could understand English and fervently believed that if a burglar came into the house, Simon would find a way to save me. I saw this happen once on Ripley’s Believe It or Not, so I know it’s possible. The Big Bean said I shouldn’t count on it. Regardless, ever since Simon died I haven’t felt safe.
- I have another blog called Kidding Around Austin, which is focused on family fun in my hometown and stands poised to be exactly as disappointing as this blog is. (Update: Yep. Three months since the last post. Called it.)
- I once punched a guy in the privates because he was in my way as I desperately tried to escape a Halloween haunted house. Doesn’t matter if it’s fake or not — if some guy’s coming at me with a chainsaw, you’re going to want to get the fuck out of my way.
- The Big Bean won’t let me watch news shows like Dateline or 20/20 anymore because I’m always convinced that the awful stories will happen to me, too. He finally drew the line the 1,245th time I said, “Do you think that truck’s load is properly tied down? I don’t think that’s properly tied down.”
- Every time I have a garage sale, I gift wrap at least one piece of crap, price it really high and call it the ”Mystery Gift.” And every time, some dumb schmo buys it.
- I’m a freelance writer and editor. You may thing this sounds glamorous but in truth it mostly consists of me hanging out in my pajamas, drinking obscene amounts of coffee and panicking about money.
- If you noticed the typo in the bullet above, you could totally do my job.
- I find inappropriate things terribly funny, and also have a nervous habit of laughing in uncomfortable situations. This sounds a lot more charming than it actually is.
- I tend to avoid anything that is difficult or awkward or conflict-ish in any way. If I don’t want to think about it, I don’t — which explains my current credit rating.
- I also tend to obsess about things for a while and then forget about them, which doesn’t bode well for this blog.