This weekend went FLYING by.  This time last week I was very happy because all of the trainees got the day off on Thursday, July 3rd, July 4th, and then the weekend!  Pretty soon I wake up and it’s July 7th, and here I am.

So, my parents came up for July 4th weekend, annnddd now I am the proud owner of a brand new vacuum cleaner and 27 pounds of strawberries.

How are parents, 27 pounds of strawberries and a vacuum cleaner correlated?

Well, it all started out when we went shopping at the local mall.  All I had planned on getting was a pair of brown shoes and some dark-colored shirts.  However, when I left the mall I was the proud owner of a few books about the Titanic and a vacuum cleaner.  That’s probably the equivalent of going into Wal-Mart looking to get duct tape and coming out with a new pair of glasses and four Goodyear tires.

I would give back story to the whole vacuum cleaner ordeal, but honestly, it’s funnier that way and in reality, that is how it happened.  Coming on suddenly and unexpectedly.  Aren’t parents interesting that way?

How I ended up with 27 pounds of strawberries is simply the fact that I saw on the internet a strawberry-picking farm, and we decided to go.  I mean come on,  where else can you find a “100 Things to Do in Milwaukee” list and end up picking strawberries? Thanks, Google!

My brother and I had a little wager; after we had finished picking, he bet me that it was less than 14 pounds of strawberries.  I bet him that it was more.  Twenty-seven pounds of strawberries later, I’m a dollar richer and looking up strawberry jam recipies as soon as I got back home.   With my mother helping me, together we pumped out about ten 8-oz jars of strawberry jam.

Very delicious jam, I might add.

After giving my parents about half of the 27 pounds of whole strawberries, I’m left with one question.

Now, what in the hell am I going to do with the rest of the strawberries?  Okay, another question as well: who wants strawberries and/or strawberry jam?

March 21, 2008 - Four in the afternoon:

“Soooo someone’s birthday is coming up…” She says, striking a mock-thinking pose.

“Who’s birthday?”

“I dunno…I thought you could tell me!”

“Brittany Spears?” I suggest.

“Oh, maybe!” She says, and then adds after a few minutes of silence, “So what do you want for your birthday?”

“I want…” I say, thinking for a few seconds, “one of Matt Damon, please!”

“You will only get him if he climbs through your window in the middle of the night.”

March 22, 2008 - Two in the morning:

“Happy Birthday Jillian!” Mike says, holding up his glass and cheering to me. One of the rules for “Circle of Death” (he drew the Jack card and made up this rule) was that every time you had to take a drink you had to say ‘happy birthday Jillian’ and clink your glass with mine.

“Get your ass over here so I can cheer you!” Mike adds from the Circle of Death table across the room.

“Wait…I’m looking still,” I say, staring out the glass sliding door.

“For what?” Mike says, coming up behind me. He looks out the glass door as if there is cake and cookies on the porch.

“Matt Damon.” I say simply. I turn around to see Mike staring at me.

“Did you take LSD in-between the four beers?”

“Naw, I don’t think so.” I say, shrugging and walking back over to the kitchen table. “Anyways, I don’t think he’s coming…damn.”

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