dave's return

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As a teen, I regularly read Dave Barry's humor column in the Sunday paper. Regularly, that is, until the idiotic Roanoke Times and World-News stopped publishing it. I guess it wasn't news-y enough or something. At any rate, I was an avid reader. Or a loyal reader. Or a fan. Whatever.

While other teen girls were infatuated with Brad Pitt or Sailor Moon (never quite got that one), I plastered the covers of my school binders with Dave Barry columns. After taping the article to the front, spine, rear, or inside of the binder, I would then "laminate" my work with more, um, tape. Classy, you know?

One fall, while at the Troutville fall festival (can't remember the name of it...), I happened upon a library's used book sale.  Books for a quarter!  Books for fifty cents!  Books, books, books, and more books.  You know what else they were selling?  hot dogs.  yeah.  because they go so well with books.  Want some ketchup with that?

I spent many minutes looking through all the boxes of no-longer-loved books and came away with quite an armful.  One of my gems was a Dave Barry book.  Seriously.  I know!  I didn't even know that my most favorite columnist who had been writing for the Miami Herald since the time I was three was an author, too!  I think the book might have been Dave Barry Talks Back, but really I'm not sure.  At any rate, it was awesome!

Now, let me tell you, the only thing that I remember from reading that most awesome library book sale find is this: Suck, Don't Blow.  That's right.  As a teen, I was taking my sex tips from a great comedian.  It scarred me for life.  Did you know that if you blow on a dick, the guy can get air in his blood and die?  That's what Dave Barry said.  I still can't breathe right while doing the oral nasty, out of fear of killing my husband.  Maybe I need one of those strips. 

This afternoon, I took Katie to the library and, lo and behold, what did I find?  Dave Barry's latest collection of comical essays.  I immediately checked out I'll Mature When I'm Dead, though I had an armful of other, more grown-up things to read.  (Like The Rebel Housewife Rules: To Heck with Domestic Bliss) (I'm pretty sure my early obsession with all things Barry influenced my overuse of the parenthesis) (parenthesisess? not sure what the plural of that one should be).

Dear Dave:  Though I go to comedy clubs and see other guys talking about funny stuff, though I inwardly laughed my ass off when my husband fell off a bounce house and bumped his head yesterday (he was fine), though I find humor in blogs and stuff, you're still my one and only comedian.  The one that I think of when I'm down.  The one I think of when I'm on my knees (Suck, lady, suck), the one who introduced me to the funny business.  Though you're an old man, and you're probably wrinkled up and should be gray, and you turned 50 like a million and a half years ago, you're awesome.  My binders salute you.

comfy nights

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Last night, we converted Katie's crib into a day bed. I had been putting it off for some time because she is just now getting back into the habit of sleeping in her own bed every night. I couldn't imagine struggling to keep her in a bed from which she could easily escape.

I changed my mind, though, when I heard that a friend's child had climbed out of her crib and fallen, breaking her clavicle. How painful! Though the mother is at no way in fault, out of negligence or any such thing, I didn't want to risk that happening with Katie, who loves to climb anyway. So, the crib rail came down.

Katie was all giggles in her big girl bed.  "My bed is COMFY!" she would shout, jumping in and out.  The little princess also helped me make her bed with her all-new comforter set, given as a birthday present last October.  We had been saving it for just this occasion.  

Katie was eager to be put to bed and tucked in tight.  "Sleep tight, Mommy," she called out as she put her head on her bee pillow.  However, she didn't seem to want me to leave the room.  Giving in, I sat down beside her and decided to read a good night story.  What could be better than a fairy tale?

photo credit

Pulling out my nifty phone, I looked up Hansel and Gretel and began to read.  It was a story that I thought I remembered well from childhood.  You know, the one where the kids get lost in the woods and then snack on an old lady's house?  The witch catches them, holds them captive, and fattens them up for supper.  Then, just as she's about to roast one child, the other shoves the evil witch in her own oven.  Pretty simple little read, or so I thought.

I found myself skipping over the not-so-friendly parts of the story in horror.  Do you remember how the kids found their way into the forest?  This isn't a story about staying with your parents and avoiding strangers, folks.  The evil stepmother convinced their father to lead them out there and then leave the little buggers.  Child abandonment!  Oh my!  Not really a theme I want to reinforce to my daughter, whom I'm about to leave in her big girl bed for the very first time.  And the twist at the end, about how the stepmother dies after the witch bakes?  Could this be a subliminal message encouraging children to rise up against their parents?

And, what is it with the evil stepparents?  Did the Brothers Grimm have something against their mom?  Did they have an actual evil stepmother?  Were they using their storytelling as a form of release from their childhood horrors?  Or, were the stories more supposed to be antidotes as to why parents shouldn't remarry?  Think of the kids!

At any rate, though I have fond memories of fairy tales from my childhood, I think I'll spare my kids the dirty details.  Disney films may have some disturbing scenes, but can you imagine how much they must cut out to make the story mostly appropriate for children?  This is one case in which I'm all for censoring for the sake of the children.

Rain, rain, go away

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It has been a rainy couple of days around here. Our temps have gotten cooler and more fall-like, which is great, but we can't get out and enjoy it because it is so wet. Also, Mr. Hull started building a storage shed on Saturday, but is unable to resume work until Tuesday because of the forecast. On a better note, our freshly planted grass will have lots of water to aid in it's growth.

With all these home improvements taking place, it is a wonder we've had time to do anything else. However, we have been even more active in Scouting, as I am my son's newest Den Leader. Katie has gone back to Melody Makers and storytime at the library, and I am in the midst of reading a delightful novel called The Gin Room. So, all is well in Hull-land. We're off to start another wet, yet exciting day. Ta-ta!

Blume, Martin, and You: The Power of the Written Word

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All right, ladies and peeps, welcome back to my homage to the SITS Girls Back to Blogging Event. Today's post? Repost something with a title you like a lot. Well, here's some news for you, I like most all of my recent titles. I've really been working on capturing the spirit of the post in my title lately. So, I'm not going to bore ya'll with a repost of something I wrote just last week. To be frank, my older titles are just plain boring, so I'm not going there either. I think I'm going to spin this assignment around a little bit.

My favorite title was from something I posted last week, tales of a fourth grade something.  The post was a letter to my son on his first day in fourth grade.  Obviously, the title is a play off of Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing by Judy Blume, one of my favorite childhood authors (the other was Ann Martin, of Baby-sitters Club fame).

I find it funny that I find inspiration in things that I read long ago.  I immersed myself those Judy Blume books as an elementary-aged child, yet the stories still come to mind as I deal with the situations my own children present.It just goes to show that words are very powerful indeed, and can stick with someone a long time.  Do you ever stop to thing that something you write, be it online or in a journal, or even published in a book, may have an impact on someone twenty years down the road? 

Who are your favorite influences in your writing?  Are they authors from your formative years, or people whose writings you have read recently?

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debt-free U for who?

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$257 a week.  That's only a few lattes, right?  No, your lattes don't cost nearly that much?  Well, neither do mine.  

However, according to Zac Bissonette, the young author of Debt-Free U: How I Paid for an Outstanding College Education without Loans, Scholarships, or Mooching off my Parents, claims that a student can go to a state college, pay $13,000 a year out of pocket, and complete a college education without going into debt.  Apparently, he did it.  This does sound like a great idea, but I don't think it is entirely feasible for most families.

First off, a mere $257 each week adds up to $1028 per month.  Who has that just laying around? While I like the idea of sending a child to college without having to also send him into debt, we don't have an extra $1028 laying around each month.  Do you?  Even in ten years, when my son is college age, I doubt we'll have that much extra money to pay for college out of pocket.  And, to do that for four years, then turn around and do it again when my daughter reaches 18?  No, I don't think so.  Especially not considering we'll be paying off my husband's college loans for some time.  For us, $1028 is equal to the cost of two car payments and an incredibly plush grocery bill each month. 

Furthermore, a quick internet search shows me that the total cost of tuition (which doesn't include books or a comprehensive meal plan) for a student at Virginia Tech, the state college closes to me, is $15,748, $2,748 more than Bisonnette quoted during his interview this morning.  So, that actually works out to $302.86 per week, or $1211.44 each month.  Now, we're looking at our car payments, our typical grocery bill, satellite tv, internet, telephone, and maybe even gas.  That's right, most of our monthly expenses, sans mortgage.  

Besides that, I still think that having your parents pay for college out of pocket is definitely considered "mooching."  Now, I will readily admit that I have not read the book, but I don't think any student is going to be able to go to college and work, bringing in over $1200 each month.  At least, not legally.  A prostitute might be able to do it, but she'd have to be awfully talented. note: I am not advocating prostitution as a career.  maybe, though, as a hobby. 

Therefore, this guy's idea seems to be completely unreasonable in today's economy for all except the very well-to-do.  And, if you're that well off, why couldn't you pay for it up front anyway?  Do you really need a manual?

Choice Fruit

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This post has mature content, so if you aren't 18, turn around and get out of here, quick!

Sex. Yeah, I like it. Don't you? Surely, you do. So, why are you all legs crossed, panties bunched up, and sour-faced whenever anyone talks about it? What's that? You're not that kind of girl? You don't do those things? You're a Christian?  Well, guess what?  So am I.  Yeah, that's right.  I'm a Jesus-loving, God-worshiping, Holy Ghost-rolling, Christian.  And, I talk about it.  So, whatcha gonna do?  Go tell my Daddy?  Hey, guess what... He talks about it, too.  And, He gets even nastier than me (okay, sometimes). 

My bio daddy doesn't talk about it-- that would be weird, wouldn't it?  I mean my Heavenly Daddy... yeah, that's the One.  He has lots to say.

Don't believe me?  Go read Song of Solomon.  Yes, in the Bible.  You know, God's Word?  Told ya He talked about it.

A friend of mine writes romance novels.  But, you know what?  They aren't nearly as hot as what the Bible says about sex.  A few years ago, five years ago, six years ago, my husband and I attended the Song of Solomon Conference at Liberty University.  It is a two day conference.  At the time, we didn't have the money for a hotel room, so we drove an hour to Liberty on Friday, went to the first half of the conference, drove home that night, and turned around and drove back the next morning.  This was pre-Katrina and gas was a lot cheaper.

So, the first night, we heard Tommy Nelson read Song of Solomon, speak about raisin cakes and other aphrodisiacs, and left to drive home.  Boy, I could barely keep my hands off of him during that short drive.  When we got back to our apartment that night, we had mind-blowing sex.  Really.  After a Bible conference, we saw fireworks.  It was amazing.

I still get turned on when I read that particular book of the Bible.  My favorite passage is Song of Solomon 4:16,

Awake, north wind,
and come, south wind!
Blow on my garden,
that its fragrance may spread abroad.
Let my lover come into his garden
and taste its choice fruits.

Oh, yes.  Blow on me, please.  Taste the choice fruits of  my garden, I beg you. (not you, but Mr. Hull.  Sorry, I may have gotten a little carried away... watch this while I take a quick shower)





So, where did this post come from?  Was it divinely inspired?  Sorry, no.  I was recently reading Toy With Me and came across a post entitled, How I Became a Porn-Again Christian.  I was intrigued.  Though I had attended Song of Solomon many moons ago, I hadn't thought about "Christian" sex much since then.  Our pastor just doesn't address it.  Does yours?  So, I had begun to think that all the really nasty stuff we do was a bit sinful.  It sure felt that way, but good, oh so good...  I'll spare Mr. Hull by not giving all the details.  

Did you realize that there are Christian toy shops out there?  Like Covenant Spice, who even stocks the fun stuff like vibrators.  Woo-hoo!  


Ladies, be free.  Go get it on with your husbands, and don't feel ashamed.  Let the chains fall and embrace your sexuality. Or embrace the chains... you know... whatever...