It’s so hard to get a photo of this plaque, what with its extra shiny, high-glare surface, but I would like it known that after FIVE YEARS, I finally ended Jason’s cribbage-winning streak. I would also like it known that I beat him by only 11 games, so toward the end of the year whenever he suggested we play, I’d run and hide and then claim it was too late in the evening. Try again tomorrow, sir!

(Also, when the plaque plate arrived, the font size was too large by about 3 points, so instead of matching the other plates, this plate said SHAUNA in gigantic letters. I didn’t see the problem with that, seeing as how I probably won’t win again for another 13 years, but Jason made me reorder.)

I made a scarf. With an intentional hole in it, so I can pull one end through for a snug fit. But I made two mistakes: I used scrap yarn in colors that don’t match anything I own, and our winter this year has been so mild, I’ve only needed to wear a scarf three times. Which is why I’m now knitting a purse.

I finally got around to taking a photo of my new Charming Charlie necklaces. The one on the right was the one I picked up three different times in the store. The one on the left I’ve only worn a few times because my winter wardrobe doesn’t have much aqua in it, but my summer wardrobe? I may as well sleep in this sucker then since I’ll be wearing it every day.

I was scouring Pinterest for cool necklace display ideas, and I really liked the idea of painted pegboard, but I wasn’t keen on putting a bunch of holes in my wall (and with that thought, I’ve turned into my father). I had been using a few of the 3M Command Strips, but with too many necklaces on too few hooks, they were a tangled mess. Once we realized the strips actually came off the wall without peeling the paint, I bought a bunch more and had Jason and his OCD eyeball them into a Jewelry Wall. Now my necklaces aren’t tangling anymore (it took me 3 evenings to untangle a particularly troublesome specimen) and I can sort them better by color and length (Jason is not the only person with OCD tendencies in this house). The only downside of this arrangement is that despite taking precautions to hang everything high enough to avoid cat shenanigans, Sunny gets angry at us for not getting up at 5:30 a.m. on the weekends, so she leaps off the bed to take an retaliatory, angry swipe at the wall. Every Saturday, after I’ve pushed her off the bed for the 907th time, I’m treated to a loud THWACK as she voices her displeasure. She is lucky that she is cuddly during the rest of the day because her behavior during the early-morning hours is truly awful.

Hang pictures
We have a laser level, but have never used it. Because we are idiots. Instead, we hang pictures by relying on our eyeballs. This means I proclaim that something looks “good,” and Jason responds to my statement by activating his OCD and staring at the picture for 15 minutes until he’s convinced himself it’s not 100% straight. The situation then devolves into two separate debates: one over whose eyesight is worse, and the other over “good” vs. “good enough” and whether the difference is that big a deal in the grand scheme of things because maybe one of us is hungry and could go for some pizza right now. Our worst fight centered around us hanging our wedding photos – OUR WEDDING PHOTOS, for the love of God – and arguing over the placement. Unbeknownst to us, one of us (he claims it was me; I will claim to my dying day that it was NOT) had set down the felt-tip pen we were using to mark nail placements on the wall. While we were loudly disparaging each other’s eyesight, the pen — which had been left open by the as-yet-agreed-upon-person — bled black ink onto our futon. The Discussion Level then shot up to SHOUTY BLAMENESS and resulted in me stepping backward into the open toolbox, scattering hammers and wrenches and screwdrivers and nails everywhere. Good times.

Ask questions while the other person is on the phone
As a little kid, I never understood while my parents shushed me all the time when I talked while they were on the phone. Then I married Jason. Whenever I’m on the phone, he is constantly popping into my line of vision and interrupting me to demand, “Ask so-and-so this…” or “What did she say about X?” or “Did you mention Z?” and it is MADDENING. If I shake my head or turn away or make an ominous throat-slitting gesture in an attempt to shut him up, he gets irritated that I’m shushing him and ramps up his questioning even more. So in retaliation, I do it to him when he’s on the phone. That way, we both win.

What are your silly, spousal argument triggers?

Oh, man. I looooved playing Donkey Kong. It was one of those games I never tired of playing, no matter how many times I got stuck on the same level or kept making the same mistakes. (Unlike playing Q*Bert, which stressed me out for some reason.)

I also really enjoyed Pitfall and Tetris. I love me some Tetris!

What are your favorite old-school video games?

With everything almost ready, we analyzed the setup, looking for possible reflections or distractions in the shot. Finally, we were banished to the living room to watch the interview on a tiny monitor. The first few minutes went well, until the sound guy interrupted and proclaimed the ticking of a wall clock to be too loud. A few minutes later, we stopped again because the humming refrigerator was too distracting. A few minutes after that, we realized the chair the husband was sitting in squeaked every time he moved.

With everything finally settled, the interview continued for a few more minutes until we heard: THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP. Everyone looked around in confusion while the wife shook her head. Turns out the cat that had been banished to the bedroom was voicing his displeasure by pawing at the door.

The cat got resettled downstairs and we started again. During the heart of the interview, I suddenly developed a tickle in my throat. It was awful – just one cough or throat-clearing would take care of it, but I didn’t dare do it. It got to the point where my eyes were watering. Just as I was about to ruin everything, the interviewer stopped anyway. The next minute was a flurry of normal noises as everyone coughed, cleared their throat, rearranged their seating position, or otherwise existed. Total silence is hard to achieve, man!

After instructing the interviewer to ask a few more questions, we started getting some really great sound bites. So of course that’s when we heard WHOOO! WHOOO! WHOOO!

It was a train. OF COURSE IT WAS. Which, according to the wife, only passes through twice a day. About the only thing missing from our menagerie of noisy interruptions was a police siren and perhaps some stern yells emanating from a megaphone while a SWAT copter hovered nearby.

But as I was leaving, I realized we had probably gotten off easy. Sitting in the next-door neighbor’s front yard, ready for action, was a circular saw.