And I Developed My Morality Just Last Year...

I promised you more words from my 8th grade English journal and would hate to renege on our deal. I wouldn't want to be called a liar after all...

Feb 7, 1996 Lying

I used to lie all the time when I was younger. "Did you brush your teeth?" "Of course", I'd answer (when in reality I hadn't done it for a week). "Did you make your bed? Get started on your animal report? [I never actually did that report in 5th grade. When my teacher asked me where it was, I told him I had turned it in already. Since I was a well-behaved kid for the most part, he thought he had just lost it and gave me FULL CREDIT! Damn, I was good!] Clean the living room?" "Yes," I would answer, "I always do." I lied for the simple reason of wanting to get outside and play with my friends. [If I remember correctly, playing outside wasn't really the incentive. I liked to read more. So basically I just lied in my essay on lying. Huh.] I got so used to lying that they just slipped out like butter. Then when my parents found out that I was lying, they'd give me a good scolding or even a spanking. [They never did find out about that animal report. Oops. Am I going to get a spanking now?] Eventually I stopped lying, when I realized it was wrong. I am so against it now, that if I lie to someone, I feel guilty for a week [A week. Not 6 days. Not 8 days. A week.] and have to go say that I was sorry for lying to them. When you are little, you don't have much of a conscience or at least I didn't. Fortunately, I developed one around age ten. [WHAT? I had no conscience before then? No way of determining right from wrong? I guess I must have been a wild child who killed gerbils for fun and set buildings ablaze "just to see what would happen".]

Love Always, George W.

I hate to bring up anything political because not much else gets people as heated as the good ol' Red vs. Blue debate, but Jess and I aren't big fans of Georgie (no offense to our readers who feel the opposite). However, one day I came across the White House website where you can request a letter from the President for special occasions such a births and birthdays. Of course I wanted to get in on that action before our "favorite" Prez left office! I decided that the ironic and really the best way to get the letter would be to request one for my "gay marriage". It's ironic because Bush is against it and it's the best because well, it's just funny. So I filled out the form with a bit of fudging (kids, don't try that at home) and Jess and I have now become a couple in the eyes of the White House.

Today I had the good fortune to open my mail and be greeted with this:


"Congratulations to you both on this wonderful day. Your marriage is a celebration of your love and commitment to each other. May this deep and meaningful bond provide strength and friendship in the years ahead. We send our best wishes for a lifetime of happiness together."

Well, we do have a deep and meaningful bond that has provided friendship for many years. Here's to hoping we have many more and a lifetime of happiness!


I love that the seal on the card was actually embossed! It made it just that more special and presidential looking.


I think my favorite part of it all is that the envelope was hand addressed. I love knowing that a 70-year old woman is sitting at a desk somewhere in D.C., offering her best cursive handwriting as her civic duty. Can you imagine her shaking her head as she writes "Mr. & Mrs. Angie Tjoelker"? Muttering under her breath that the boys names these days are starting to sound an awful lot like girls names. Oh, if only we would all sacrifice a little hand cramp for our country.


I was sad that the signatures weren't the real deal. I realize that W must be busy with other things, but gosh darn it, I had hoped for an actual pen-to-paper attempt from the Mrs. Oh well, they say it's the thought that counts. Thanks for thinking of us Bushys!

OOOO 1&2: Dancing & Girls Wrestling

Some of you may be acquainted with Wild and Crazy Day. For those of you not in the know, it is a holiday Jess and I started our freshman year of college on February 25, 2001 when we got a few additional piercings in our ears. Feeling like we were being somewhat rebellious and wild girls (we do realize it is actually pretty tame), we decided that we needed to continue to do it. Thus, Wild and Crazy Day was born. It is the 25th of every month and we have to do something out of the ordinary for it. Doesn't have to necessarily be crazy, just something we normally wouldn't do. Over the years we did things like playing pranks on people, sleeping outside in the middle of winter, and essentially were huge dorks. While we don't officially celebrate the holiday anymore (other than saying "Happy Wild and Crazy Day" to each other), we have birthed an off-shoot of it: Out Of the Ordinary Outings, or OOOO for short.

OOOO 1:
It started last weekend when we went to see Winterfest, which is a dance festival put on by a dance school here in Puyallup. One of the girls in my youth group invited me to go (she was in it), so Jess decided to tag along. Four hours and 65 dances later, our butts were sore but we were in awe of the performances. From the elementary schoolers who shimmied and shook to the high schoolers who's dances were evocative with emotion, we were highly entertained. These kids were astounding!

OOOO 2:
Earlier today Jess and I ended up going to a high school girl's wrestling match. There were guys there as well, but we were there mainly for the females. One of Jess' friends is the coach for Rogers HS, so we went to be spectators for this surprising sport. At first when we got there we really didn't have any idea what was going on. Previously giggling at the sport never left us with much desire to learn its intricacies. However, we quickly surmised that if we were to enjoy this at all, we would have to get a tutorial, and quickly. We turned to our friendly-looking bench neighbor and pleaded for some information. He was able to give us the basics of the sport and answered some of our questions. We were able to then get into the matches and were surprised at the strength of some of these girls. At times we weren't sure if we were watching male or female matches (no offense meant there).

So our OOOO were born, and we hope to continue them. Nothing too drastic, just something we wouldn't normally do-- Out Of the Ordinary Outings.

Pandora Radio

You HAVE to check this out: www.pandora.com It is basically an online radio that plays the music that you want it to. You type in a song or an artist and it will create a "radio station" that plays music in the same genre. Not to mention that it is good quality sound too! Seriously, this thing is amazing.

My, What Red Cheeks You Have

I blush all the time. Really, every day. I don't even have to be embarrassed and I blush. I would like to think that it is a becoming pinkening of my cheeks, but in reality it is a full-blown fire engine red that makes me hot (and I do mean that in the literal sense of the word). I only have to be caught off guard and I suddenly bloom with color. Today was no exception.

Scene: Sitting at my desk at work
Characters: Me & Warehouse Boy & Fun Supplier Man (one of the people I talk to multiple times a day on the phone to order equipment for installations)

Angie is on hold on the phone, waiting for Fun Supplier Man to pick up. Warehouse Boy is standing at her desk and chitchatting with her. He then finds a very used Jack (In The Box) antenna ball behind her computer monitor that he had previously given her (don't ask).

Warehouse Boy: What's this doing here?
Angie: Oh, it's been there for a long time. I had forgotten it was back there.

Angie crinkles her nose at the sight of this disgustingly dirty ball. Warehouse Boy sets it on the counter to stare its beady little eyes at her. Angie, still on hold, attempts to gingerly grab it by the nose to toss it in the trash. It rolls away lopsidedly. She tries again.

Angie (saying low under her breath with disgust in her voice): I don't even want to touch it!

Warehouse Boy chuckles

Fun Supplier Man (having suddenly come on the line the exact moment Angie started talking and having heard the following male chuckle): Whoa! What's that? What don't you want to touch and who's is it?

Cue Angie's blush.

Angie (laughing and stuttering all at once): Um... wow, that was bad timing... I'm turning bright red right now.

Angie becomes so flustered that she doesn't even think to explain what's going on to Fun Supplier Man and instead just gives him her equipment order. Her blush fades and she laughs to herself. Yet more proof that her timing in life is comedic and cringe-worthy all at the same time.

Please Tell Me This Isn't My Journal

I recently discovered a notebook filled with freewrites I had to do for my 8th grade English class. Sometimes we would be given a topic and sometimes we got to just write about whatever we wanted. I started reading them, immediately cringed at my words, and decided that these glimpses into the psyche of the junior high me were too good to keep to myself. Below you will find two of them along with comments from the 25-year old me. You can look forward to more of these entries in the future.

Sept. 13, 1995 Phases

I have had many phases in my life. For example, I have collected everything from beads to buttons, to stickers. I sort of fell away from sticker collecting, but at a peak time, (my sister and I collected together) we had over 1,100 stickers. (We really were going for that 1000 sticker mark and were SUPER excited when we got there). Right now I am on my business card collection. (Are you joking me? At 13 I collected business cards? That is seriously uncool. I thought my dork days ended in 7th grade, but I was sooooo wrong.) Whenever I go to the fair or to a store, I pick up their business cards. I started this a few years ago, when I lived in Michigan. I stopped collecting them when my mom threatened to put them in recycle. My dad let me keep them, though. (Dad let me keep them? Normally he's all for getting rid of stuff. Was I really that attached to them that he felt like he had to intercede for my mental health?) I put them away in my desk safe, (I had a flippin' sweet desk with a safe in it) and didn't find them again until we moved into my new house in May. Since then, I have collected over 100 new business cards. (From May to September I got 100 business cards? Either I was going to a lot of fairs or I got real friendly with the Safeway checkers) I've had many phases, but business card collecting is my newest one.


Sept 22, 1995 Momentos

I have many momentos of places I've been or other people have been. For instance, when my dad went to New Orleans for the first time, he brought me back a thermometer in a glass container filled with water and seashells floating in the water. (I had it on my desk until I moved away to college). The second time he went, he brought back a tshirt of the New Orleans jazz band. (I still have that shirt and wear it to bed. It's so worn that you can barely see any of the printing on it) In other places he's been, he's brought back different things. When I go places, I collect everything from business cards (there they are again) to bags to small items such as keychains or pencils. This helps me remember places I've been in a cheap, inexpensive way. (More from "Remembering On A Dime" after a word from our sponsors...) In order to give them up, someone would probably have to pay a big sum. A lot of my collection brings back good memories. I wouldn't give it up for less than $100. (Apparently I can be bought-- and for really not all that much)

And then the cops showed up...

Oh, the fun I have with my youth group! Tonight it was at my place because Kent was out of town. Having experienced the String Game, the girls were eager for the boys to join in the devious twisting and turning necessary to play. I obliged and we set off on a rousing game that involved some stomping, yelling, and at one point a tickle fight (in typical youth group fashion). Due to my foot injury, I was not able to participate but instead sat in a comfy chair near the front door. Forest and Holly seized that opportunity to use me as a prop and wrap me up in yarn-- around my arms, legs, and even my glasses. I sat there immobile, when suddenly there was a knock on the door. Expecting it to be someone from our group, I yelled for someone else to open it. Ashlynn obliged and was able to yank it open a smidgen, despite the string all around it.

Dead silence.

Not being able to move to see, I asked sing-songingly, "who is it? who is it?".

"Police," said a deep male voice.

At that point my heart stopped and I struggled with all my might against the yarn holding me hostage. I managed to bend forward enough to crane my neck around and look at the cop staring at me. (I don't know why he would be staring at someone entirely covered with yarn. I mean really, they must see that all the time.)

He continued, "We have had a report of domestic violence at this address. Someone was yelling, 'get off of me'."

"I'm sorry officer, we are a youth group playing a game. What was heard was someone being tickled." At that point I went on to apologize profusely to him for having to come out, while trying to maintain some dignity as I talked from an entirely awkward position.

The officer standing behind him piped up, "are you sure this is a church thing?" Good natured chuckles ensued.

I thanked them for doing their duty and we said our goodbyes. I immediately wanted to go to the neighbor to apologize but was still trapped. I had to sit there for another 20 minutes until all of the yarn around me was untangled. I put together a plate of Oreo Truffles and brought them downstairs where both my neighbor and I swapped embarrassed sorrys. I gave her the peace offering and turned to find Jess coming home from a meeting, standing at the base of our stairs with her jaw by her knees, obviously having overheard my exchange with the neighbor. I could barely walk over to her for the bout of giggles I had and got to explain to her my very first domestic disturbance call. Oh, the fun I have with my youth group!