happy 24th!

he may have a parasite...

but he's still standing strong

he may be 24 today, but he is still comfortable dressing up as a twelve-year-old

and i couldn't love him more

happy birthday, jonesy!

parasite jones

i am sad to announce that jonesy has been preoccupied with another closely clinging group of individuals: cryptospiridium. although the past nine months have been filled with my efforts to continually reassure myself that i am jesse's one and only, others infilitrated his heart--well, his small intestine.

allow me to start from the beginning.

it was a calm, temperate tuesday afternoon during the first week of school. my husband was complaining of stomach ... discomfort, so i volunteered to go to his class for him in order to pick up his syllabus. i arrived home to find my wonderful in-laws perched on our couch (they stopped by boise on some travels in order to take jesse out to dinner for his birthday), anxiously looking toward the bathroom. my interest piqued by their positioning, i rounded the corner to find little jonesy camped out on the bathroom floor with a blanket and pillow, shivering and hyperventilating.

debbie (mother-in-law) and i swiftly set off to the nearest pharmacy to find something to make him feel better. it wasn't long before i received a phone call from larry (father-in-law). jesse was freaking out, and i needed to get home. thanks to the inept traffic skills of many boise residents, i didn't make it home before larry called again. this time he informed me that the paramedics were on their way.

i returned home swiftly to find that jesse was in no good state. all the muscles in jesse's body had contracted. he couldn't move. he couldn't talk. he was hyperventilating significantly more. he was white as a sheet. however, in true jesse fashion, he was keenly aware of his situation and making what i'm sure was very intelligent commentary. however, because all his mouth muscles were contracted, we only received a muffled version of his comments. the entire situation was, in a word, terrifying.

the firemen showed up first, and they were great at getting in there and helping jesse. then the paramedics showed up and helped jesse roll to his side (he couldn't really move). jesse began to tell them all about his medical history (still in his strange, muffled voice), including all of his latest blood test results from his latest physical (i'm fairly certain he remembered the exact number of his white blood cell count...). the paramedics told jesse that he probably couldn't move because he was dehydrated, had lost his electrolytes, and was losing his carbon dioxide because he was hyperventilating. they needed to take him in. the paramedics and firemen worked together to transport jesse down the stairs of our apartment building, and we emerged to see our parking lot filled with firetrucks and ambulances. in retrospect, i realize that this moment was the closest we will ever come to being rockstars. jesse was harnessed in the back of the ambulance, and i got to ride shotgun over to the ER.

as soon as the paramedics got an IV into him, jesse's muscles started to loosen up. a few hours later, when he could start using his hands again, we both knew that he had made it over the rough part of the mountain.

after a few hours of humiliating tests and gilmore girls reruns on hospital tv (i wasn't complaining), we soon found out the root of jonesy's suffering: parasites. apparently they are going around ada county. i also found a newspaper article that says they're going around utah (be careful, utah friends!). the doctor asked where we had been swimming. luckily, losers like us don't even get parasites swimming (because we don't actually have time to go swimming). jesse most likely got the parasites from someone else who was lucky enough to go swimming, unlucky enough to pick up a few microscopic friends, and unhygienic enough to pass it on. awesome.

i think that this may go down as jesse's favorite birthday celebration of all time.

i must admit, i'm glad the ordeal is over and hope that i never have to see my jonesy in such a state again. however, don't think that the experience has not had its funny moments. two conversations i had at work yesterday:

me: jesse has a parasite

co-worker: other than you? how much can one man take?!?

me: jesse has a parasite

different co-worker: what? does that happen in america?

bottom line: wash your hands. and avoid public restrooms. just don't leave your house again. ever.

a boo by any other name would smell as sweet

here is a list of what i am officiall addressed as all across my life:

rebecca lee jones
rebecca jones
rebecca davis
rebecca lee davis
rebecca davis jones
rebecca davis-jones
rebecca jones-davis

a typical phone call with any official corporation/organization/employer/entity goes something like this:

business dude: alright, can i get the name on that?
boo: rebecca jones
b.d. : umm... i'm not seeing it
boo: try rebecca davis jones
b.d.: nope, not there
boo: rebecca davis?
b.d.: nothing
boo: boo face mcjones?
b.d.: umm... that looked more likely
b.d.: rebecca davis jones banana hammock?
b.d.: oh yep, there you are. could i get you to verify your contact information?

(forgot to post this last week...)

it all started with a simple thought.

biscuits and gravy. then i realized. i have no biscuits. i have no sausage.

brilliant plan: ride pink monster to winco and acquire biscuits and sausage.

i harness the pink monster up out front and start walking into winco. approximately two steps in the front door i hear a male voice behind me say: hi. i turn to my right, and respond: hi. it takes a moment to process, but i soon realize that i have never previously laid eyes on the plaid-clad thirty-something next to me. he stares. i quiver.

sorry, he says, i thought you were my neighbor.

silent pause.

oh, well, i'm not. i coldly reply.

yeah, you mostly looked like her from behind.

he stares intently at some part of my face. sweat drips from his dwight schrute haircut. i make a quick left down an aisle i have absolutely no interest in.

oh, well have a nice day, he calls behind me.

while panicking about my vulnerable position all alone in the grocery store--my only getaway the two-wheeled, pink contraption powered by my wee little legs--i spy the only thing that can restore sanity: circus animal cookies. on sale.

i grab the cookies and biscuits and gravy necessities and hustle back to the pink monster, carefully stowing all goods in my front basket. speeding down (or up) myrtle street, i realize i have made a clean getaway from the sweaty, dressed-by-his-mother, socially inept, i-hope-he-was-referring-to-my-hair-when-he-recognized-me-from-behind, dwight schrute look alike.

i was little aware of my impending doom.

i can't tell you why i didn't notice it. perhaps the thrill of avoiding another awkward encounter. perhaps the fact that i am mere minutes away from enjoying circus animal cookies in the comfort of my own blue couch. either way, i soon find myself speeding directly toward the curb of death.

i watch as all goods in the basket bounce uncontrollably. the biscuits fly to the left. the sausage flies to the right. the cookies land six inches in front of me. without having any time to react or absorb the shock of what has just happened, i feel the pink monster's front wheel make direct contact with the circus animal cookies. the crunching sound makes me instantaneously nauceous, and i react as i always do in incidents of minor destruction: panic.

helplessly screaming, "oh no oh no oh no" on one of the busiest streets in boise, i carelessly park the pink monster, praying that there is some hope for the cookies. the bag is rent apart, all cookies smashed into the sidewalk.

i struggle not to actually cry, so i start picking up all the smashed animal cookies in an attempt to distract myself. i convince myself that any good citizen would clean up their smashed cookies, not realizing that in my effort to keep sidewalks clean, i am actually depriving all the local birds of the best feast of their short lives.

i complete the clean up, packing the remains of the cookies in the grocery bag to properly dispose of in the privacy of my own home. as i sit baffled on the sidewalk, i reflect on the eventful past fifteen minutes.

what did i learn from this experience? well, there are multifarious positions to take on it. perhaps i should learn that judging the socially inept to be inherently perverted and creepy and taking all measures to avoid them isn't the best way to perceive an uncomfortable encounter. perhaps it i now know that impulse buying unnecessary food is never a positive response to emotional trauma. however, in the initial moments following my sidewalk trauma, i learn a very valuable lesson.

one when loses a bag of circus animal cookies, it is best to immediately fill the void with a bag of red vines purchased at a convenice store on the way home. lesson learned.

some things never change

i heard this song on the radio today, and it changed my life. again. it's one of the many tunes that makes me wish that i were an alto, irish, and in my own rock band. however, i am glad that i am no longer in the nineties.

i dare you to listen to it without singing along. it's impossible.