In which I have two family related stories.

Oh, hi there. It's been a rough beginning of the semester. Shit has hit the fan at work. Turns out higher education in Oklahoma is not, in fact, recession proof. Employment is the new poverty. Also, I've obviously been in mourning since OU's ridonk performance the other day. And I ate at Cheesecake Factory and fell into a coma. Oh, and I've been trying to follow both Top Chef and Project Runway. So yeah, I've been pretty preoccupied. Apologies. To my imaginary fans. However, in the past two weeks, two moderately entertaining things happened involving the fam.

::Story #1::

Flash back to the summer of 1999. A young Bee-spot is head over heels in love with high school boyfriend who has earned a dork award that requires him to travel to DC for two weeks. Two weeks without seeing each other! Oh the agony. Right, so you no one might or might not know care that my old bedroom window was essentially used a door for parent forbidden shenanigans throughout my tenure. I was quite used to late night visits from high school boyfriend. Sometimes, we would watch taped episodes of Jeopardy!, sometimes we would stare into each others eyes, professing our tiny love, and sometimes we'd, well. You know. Do it. Anyway, the night before HSBF leaves for DC, I hear a knock on the ol' window. There he is, out in my yard, brandishing a curious red gift bag. He thrusts the bag through my window and tells me that he's purchased a few items for me to help me withstand his absence. Aw. I peer inside to discover a treasure trove of very naughty items. It was the first time I'd seen anything of the like. I could've stocked my own Christie's Toybox.* I honestly didn't know what to say or do. I kissed him goodbye, opened the bag and shoved the vibrator between my mattress and box spring. I hid it because it was the only thing I recognized and knew I needed a safe place for it. The other things had no meaning to me at the time, so I shoved them deep in the depths of my bottomless closet thinking that even if someone found them, they too would be unclear of their purpose.

Flash forward to 10 years later. My brother rarely texts me. When he does, it's usually to tell me to leave him alone or he confuses me with someone who can sell him drugs. I joke. Sort of. I receive a text that says something like you'll never guess what Dad found. That's right. While my brother and dad were attempting to repair my old bed (it's a 100+ year old four poster monstrosity that's very fragile), they pulled off the mattress to uncover, yes, a 10 year old dormant vibrator. Awesome! I asked my brother what Dad did with it. Apparently, it's waiting for me in the desk drawer.

::Story #2::

Oh moms. And the internets. Hilarity always ensues. Mom's school district refused to show Obama's don't quit school speech (big surprise/Oklahoma is awesome!), but she was determined to have the text available for herself and any interested student and wanted to print it out as soon as it was published. Cut to me showing her the magic of cut and paste and word and font size and printing. It was a miracle. Now she wants to email the link to her super conservative brother. Ok. She frequently emails me, so I don't see why she'd need my help for this, but she thinks she does. I watch her close every open window and application on her computer. Weird, but ok. Then she opens Internet Explorer. Um, ok. Then she types yahoo.com into the browser. I think to myself, weird, since I set her up with a Gmail account. Next she types Google into the Yahoo search field. Yeah, it's true. She Yahoo's Google. Then she proceeds to Google Gmail. I died a little. Also, if you know me, I think this explains a lot about me.