Barefoot & Married

Not "Barefoot & Pregnant" yet – not as far as I know, at least!

The TP Squirrel June 23, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — barefootnmarried @ 12:13 am

Mr. Barefoot, like most most males (to my knowledge) is generally incapable of replacing the toilet paper when he finishes a roll. We fall squarely into the gender stereotypes on that one.

However, he adds an extra twist to his failure-to-replace. As opposed to merely opening a new roll and placing it next to the dispenser so the magic TP fairies can spirit it onto the roll, he instead uses the necessary amount and then squirrels the remainder of the roll away somewhere in the recesses of the bathroom as if he will need to return to find his hidden stash when a major TP shortage strikes the Bay Area.

All other citizens will be lost, alone and forlorn bemoaning their lack of forethought, but Mr. Barefoot will be sitting high and dry (literally!) with his hidden stash to save the day.

I should really just be thankful I married such a planner.

P.S. Missy at It’s Almost Naptime also covered this newsworthy topic recently. Therefore, I am obviously cutting-edge for bringing it up.


The Lion Sleeps Tonight … June 21, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — barefootnmarried @ 11:12 pm

Our next pet will be named after someone famous. I’m not sure, but it’ll be someone good, because that’s better than the current theme I didn’t even realize I had going, which is food. My parents named their last cat Dino, after Dean Martin, because he talks a lot. He will literally follow you around the house meowing conversationally, which is a nice ego boost if you’re feeling a bit ignored. However, my parents couldn’t keep the Dino name going because they kept calling him Henry, the previous cat’s name. Therefore, Dino became Henry the Second. (I’m a little worried about six cats down the line … will he live up to his name?)

We have a dog named Oreo, which seriously fits, besides making me feel slightly awkward when I eat Oreo cookies. But shortly after I got Oreo, I met the biggest fattest roundest cat you’ve ever seen. His name was Pumpkin. Pumpkin enjoyed sunning himself on a wide bridge railing while keeping an eye on the tree trunk that stretched over the creek next to the bridge. A number of birds inhabited the tree, so Pumpkin enjoyed the opportunity to lazily swat at the birds, which were never in danger, as Pumpkin was quite well-fed without the addition of the birds to his palate. And by quite well-fed, I mean that his biggest struggle was to battle the gravity that drew his belly embarrassingly close to the ground when he walked. That darn gravity was also responsible for dropping him over the railing about three times a day when he would swat at the birds.

It became a fun little game to sit and watch Pumpkin’s struggles. He would swat, wobble, splash, drag himself out of the water regally, stretch out to dry on the railing, and repeat. It’s a good thing too, otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten any exercise.

So naturally when I happened upon my own little orange furball at the pound, I had to take him home, and call him Pumpkin. He, naturally, was determined to live up to his namesake. He went from a bit of orange fluff that fit in the palm of my hand to the gargantuan in the following picture.

He is lazy and self-entitled, but always good for a laugh.

As a kitten we were worried he had epilepsy because he would shake so much, but it turned out he would just shake violently out of excitement. He lacks any semblance of coordination, and to this day will walk off the edge of a couch and literally faceplant into the ground. He not only singlehandedly (single-pawedly?) dispels the myth that cats always land on their feet, but will frequently walk straight into walls, as if they had jumped out of their place to land directly in his path. He always bounces backward slightly shaken and gives the wall a dirty look as if to chastise it for daring to impede his forward motion, which is generally tenuous at best without the obstacles walls seem to insist on throwing in his way.

Pumpkin’s food is up on a chair, to keep it away from the dog, and every single time he tries to get up on it he has to put his front paws on it and bounce to get the momentum going. If I’m nearby I’ll call out Eis Zwoi Drü to help him out.

He is completely unaware that he is not the biggest, baddest cat on the block, and swaggers everywhere he goes. However, it is only his back end that swaggers, as his front feet seem to still have not perfectly grasped the concept of being picked up and placed down, and so are swung out directly forward one at a time, frequently causing the casual observer to wonder if he will call out “Heil Hitler!”. He is completely unable to walk in any manner other than the swagger Nazi-strut combo.

Pumpkin is also somewhat unaware that he is of the feline persuasion, as he not only attacks Oreo for sport on occasion, but cuddles with her on long road trips.

He does have the typical cat-split-personality though, because in addition to his lack of coordination and intelligence, Pumpkin also lacks any morals whatsoever, and regularly employs thieving tendencies. He is also lacking in subtlety and therefore is normally unsuccessful, but his attempts are entertaining.

Every time we sit down for a meal, Pumpkin immediately jumps down from our bed where he has been sound asleep, misses his step, lands on his face next to the bed, quickly rights himself and swagger-struts as quickly as possible to the table so he can begin circling us as we eat. And in case you were wondering, yes, it is actually quite unnerving to try to eat with a wanna-be lion circling you hungrily.

He will occasionally make an awkward leap into the air, striking out a claw in a vain attempt to snag some of our meal, which would be quite threatening if he didn’t usually miss by about two feet. Occasionally we’ll foolishly leave food unattended, and he will pounce, steal and spirit our food away. The other night it was a whole pork chop!

Mr. Barefoot or I will have to physically remove him claw by claw from his prize, and he will growl ferociously to try and keep his victory meat.

The only thing he loves more than meat is Pringles. They are like the cake to his fat-kid heart. He can hear the top pop from absolutely anywhere, and will run even faster and more awkwardly than most meals demand before prostrating himself at your feet to beg for a taste. If a can is left unattended he will without hesitation try to jam his entire face down the tube until it gets stuck, and he will then yowl angrily at anyone who tries to disrupt him.

Even if I lose a pork chop or Pringle to him every now and then, it’s worth it for the entertainment value.


You Never Looked More Beautiful June 19, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — barefootnmarried @ 10:02 pm

Mr. Barefoot’s most recent video:

He let me share it without the credits (for anonymity’s sake)

The actress is my cousin, and the actor is a close friend of Mr. Barefoot’s.


Pinch Socks

Filed under: Uncategorized — barefootnmarried @ 2:21 pm

The other day I finally decided that our closet needed a good cleaning out. Some things needed to be donated to Goodwill, and there were a few boxes that had been in there since we were married, and needed sorting and organizing.

I pulled everything out of the closet, made a couple bags for Goodwill, and happy with my success, moved onto to the two boxes. They were Mr. Barefoot’s, and taped closed. I had never bothered to investigate, and as I dragged them out into the living room to sort through them, I asked him what could be in them.

“I have no idea”, he responded.

I opened the first box to find it chock-full of socks. This is a full-size filing box, filled to the top, with socks.

Mrs. Barefoot: “Seriously? No one needs that many socks.”

Mr. Barefoot: “They’re my pinch-socks”

Mrs. Barefoot: “Pinch-socks?”

Mr. Barefoot: “When I’m in a pinch, like out of my other socks, that I like better, I have back-ups.”

Mrs. Barefoot: “You need an entire box of back-ups?”

Mr. Barefoot: “Well, you never know.”

Mrs. Barefoot: “You never know? As in, if there is suddenly a disaster that completely takes out all of the water and power in California and leaves us stranded and destitute and completely unable to wash socks, then you will have your back-up pinch socks, and all will be right with the world?”

Mr. Barefoot: “Yes.”

Mrs. Barefoot: “Oh, ok, I get it.”

Mr. Barefoot: “Really?”

Mrs. Barefoot: “No.”

So, guess what the second box was full of?

Shockingly enough, it was socks. Plain, white, old socks. Nothing special. Just socks.

But he had them in a pinch.

And now, so does Goodwill.


Salt and Pepper June 17, 2010

Filed under: Conversations — barefootnmarried @ 1:26 pm

Mr. Barefoot: “I had the weirdest dream last night. We were at the store together, and you said we were out of salt and pepper, so you went to get more salt and pepper grinders, and I told you to just get the refills, but you wouldn’t listen to me!”

Mrs. Barefoot: “Me? Never!”

Mr. Barefoot: “So you insisted on buying more grinders when all we needed were refills!”

Mrs. Barefoot: “So you dream about my homemaking failures?”

Mr. Barefoot: “Um, yes.”

Mrs. Barefoot: “You have very mundane dreams.”


The Next Star Wars

Filed under: Future,Mr. Barefoot — barefootnmarried @ 1:25 pm

In addition to being a loving and wonderful husband, Mr. Barefoot is exceptionally talented. He has done church videos, etc since high school (a whopping 2.5 years ago), but branched out into doing extra videos for a little money on the side.

His freshman year of college, he went out on a limb, borrowed money from his parents and grandparents, and started a videography business. We had started dating at that point, and seriously, what’s better for a newly dating couple than to begin one of the most stressful life endeavors ever? start a business together?

I am still to this day incredibly impressed with the guts it took for Mr. Barefoot to do what he did. At all of 18 years old, he was willing to put in the work it took to start a production company, including everything from licensing to accounting to contracts to doing the actual work he was hired for. This included using professional camera and editing equipment, as well as meeting with plenty of people many times older than him who frequently believed he had no idea what he was doing because of his age. He had to make a website knowing nothing next to nothing about websites (iWeb was a close friend), and tried to pull some clients together.

Over the next year and a half, he started doing weddings, promo videos, and small commercials. He currently still does weddings, as well as 60-second commercials for YellowPages Online and Yelp!, and a ton of other small business types. He does all of the filming and editing on all of his own equipment, has taught himself pretty much everything he know about videography and photography, and has completely paid off the original loan to his parents and grandparents. He has won a national award for one of his commercials.

Did I also mention he’s still just 20 years old? Getting a clue why I was pretty darn attracted to the guy right away? (that and the dimples … sheesh … those dimples ;-D)

What? Excuse me? What was I saying? Dimples? Husband? Oh yes, the production company (which shall remain nameless for the sake of anonymity).

It’s still small, but growing steadily. And did I mention he’s still in school full-time?

The end goal is to do something in film/video. And whether that means becoming the next Steven Spielberg, or continuing the production company to a full-time gig, or something totally different, I sure hope he is able to use his God-given talents.

Our running joke anytime we don’t have enough money for something is that we will do it when Mr. Barefoot makes the next Star Wars. Because, you know, George Lucas is just right around the corner, and in my highly realistic view of the world, of course Mr. Barefoot can just churn out the next Star Wars-type movie and then we will be fabulously rich. So we drive by a beautiful that obviously costs millions … “Oh honey, we’ll just buy that when you make the next Star Wars!” Want to travel somewhere? “When you make the next Star Wars, sweetie!” The entire state of California? ” Oh we’ll just buy it when you make the next Star Wars, honey!”

He’s actually in school for video production right now, but he’s pretty much re-learning everything he’s taught himself already, so I think he should just pursue the business full-time, but that’s a round-and-round argument for us.

For this post, I tried to convince him to let me put up one of his videos, because me telling you that he’s great at video doesn’t really mean a whole lot, as my opinion is obviously heavily biased. However, he doesn’t really get the bloggy world. He will read techie and video blogs, but for the purpose of gaining more knowledge, not to read about someone he’s never even met.

Mr. Barefoot: “What do you mean, people will read your ramblings about our lives? And then comment on it? And you read theirs? And you’ve never even met them?”

He finds it highly suspicious that I’d want to show a video of his on such a strange site, so it’s a work in progress. I’ll try to convince him though!


Toying With My Emotions June 16, 2010

Filed under: Pictures,Water — barefootnmarried @ 11:45 pm

The weather has been taunting me lately. I’m used to Valley weather, and Bay Area weather has turned out to be a cruel cruel joke.

(Stick with me here, I know I’m talking about the weather, but I promise, I have a point)

Apparently it’s been the second rainiest May in history, but regardless, I hold it against the Bay that it has toyed with my emotions this way.

I love water. Anything to do with water, I love, and will try at least once. Growing up, this had me in the pool in January, the river in March, and splashing in the gutter during any rainfall. I had the best house with a pool, a pond, a Jacuzzi, a river running through the backyard, and a lake on the other side of the river (What? Charmed childhood you say? Yes, it was tough).

I will try pretty much anything to do with water, and while this has afforded me many positive experiences, including swim team, tubing, floating, waterskiing, jet-skiing, wakeboarding, water parks, water fights, and many more that I can’t think of at the moment, it has also resulted in some negatives. Like for instance, the time I cliff-jumped, managed to fall awkwardly on my back on the water, crack a couple ribs, and bruise myself all the way from the backs of my arms down my back, butt, thighs and calfs.

Oh yes, it was one big fat body-length bruise. And no, pictures will not be forthcoming. I do have some sense of shame.

Although, to be perfectly honest, the mishap was far less the fault of the water, and much more the fault of my klutziness and inability to turn down a dare. But that’s a topic for another therapy session.

What? Where was I? Water and Bay Area weather? I have been waiting and waiting and waiting to go to the lake this year, but the weather kept teasing me. Tuesday of a week, it would be warm, sunny and beautiful. Ecstatic, I would happily plan on a fun, warm, water-infused weekend. The weather forecast would appear to support my presumptions, and I would spend the week excited. However, around Thursday, the weather would take a turn for the worse, and by the weekend, the wet, cold, windy, stormy weather would all but eliminate the possibility of boating.

If that scenario had happened just once, I could have handled it. Twice, it would have been unfortunate, but again bearable. But no! This happened again and again on every free weekend I’ve had since March. Tragedy.

But enough of my pity party. The perfect storm (yes, pun intended) occurred this weekend, the weather aligned, and it was pure bliss!

Above: Mr. Barefoot jet-skiing

Below: Mr. Barefoot wakeboarding

And boating pictures are never complete without a couple of good crash pics:

Thanks for hanging around my pity party!

And serious props to in-laws with a boat!