I’ve been seeing more and more engagement and wedding announcements on my social media feed. Love is in the air! It’s a beautiful thing!

I think of the emotions a guy goes thru before he proposes… he is so vulnerable when he asks his love to spend the rest of their life with him. The nerves, the build-up to the moment, the planning… it’s tear-inducing. (I was never proposed to, but I’m married… I’ll get to that in a bit). So many emotions run thru you up until you say “I do.” I think of those intangibles and that’s what makes my heart so full with happiness and excitement for the couples on my Facebook and Instagram feeds.

Jaysse and I eloped.  We announced our surprise nuptial on social media.  We used this picture.

Recently, I was revisiting some videos on my husband’s YouTube channel. There are a few videos that I’m in, and when I scrolled thru comments on one, someone said something like “Jaysse spends so much money but can’t get his wife a better ring.” I laughed. I laughed because I have never thought this to myself. Ever.

Jaysse didn’t propose to me. He woke up one morning and decided we were going to buy a car and get married. He announced this to me very matter-of-factly, and I thought he was crazy, because he wanted to do these things THAT DAY. We were 6 months in to a business we took a risk to open and we weren’t even paying ourselves yet. Every dollar of profit went to the store. It was a scary time; we worked more than 15 hours a day, 7 days a week, had a salary of ZERO DOLLARS and were watching what little of our savings left dwindle down. We couldn’t afford a new car! And to get married without our family and friends around to witness? I wanted to punch him for suggesting it…. But later that day, we bought a brand new car, and got married in it at a drive-thru chapel. Ha!

Spot my wedding ring in this photo

He bought our rings at a jewelry store here at the Boulevard Mall that has since gone out of business. The rings cost a few hundred dollars… for both of them.

I don’t ever look at my wedding band and think of how inexpensive it was. Have you ever heard some of the rules of buying an engagement ring? They’d say 2 months worth of a man’s salary was the guideline of what to spend for a ring. These days, guys are spending even 3 months or more on the ring. Jaysse’s salary in March of 2015 was $0. Do the math. My ring should have been an invisible one. But I got a beautiful rose gold band with a row of tiny diamonds. It didn’t cost much, but it was way more than my husband could afford at the time. It was a GENEROUS token of his love. I never take it off, and this circle I wear around my finger means everything and reminds me of one of the most spontaneous and best days of my entire life.

The beauty in a ring has more to do with the size of its gem. It’s in the love that it symbolizes.  I look at mine in awe every.  single.  day.  Sure… my husband spends a lot of money.  But it seems when you stop worrying about the money and do what is right and true to your heart, the money is always there. He has never been afraid to dream bigger and go after goals that scare the average person. And I set crazy goals and chase my wildest dreams knowing that I’m not alone doing it.

An upgrade to my wedding ring? I don’t need one.

Last year, I was included in a group text between women in my family that are all amazing mothers. The text read “Happy Mothers Day!” I responded with question marks and said “but I’m not a Mom…” One of my sisters-in-law chimed in mentioning that Aaliyah (my stepdaughter) is lucky to have a stepmom like me. I laughed to myself a little. I’m the lucky one with Aaliyah; she’s been a sweetheart to me since the day I met her. I love her as if she were my own. However, I didn’t think that Aaliyah saw me as anything close to a mother figure. I might have been just her dad’s wife to her. I’m just happy to have her around when time and circumstances permit. If she sees me as just a friend, I’ll take it. A tween needs someone to confide in, someone to make her feel at home. And I can be that!

(pictures or Jay, Aaliyah, and I from Christmas a couple years back)

Jay and I have been married for more than a year now. We don’t have any children together. I don’t really put too much of the very personal details of our lives out there and especially in this form. But the fact is, in our 14 months of marriage, we have not yet been blessed with the opportunity to be parents to children of our own. I can laugh off the constant hounding from friends and family asking when “our turn” is. But there are moments (thankfully they are few and far between) that it makes me sad and I feel inadequate as a woman and as a wife because we haven’t fulfilled something that seems to be so easy for other people. Whether we conceive naturally or not, adoption is something we are considering. Natural or adoptive parenthood may not even happen. Still… Jay makes sure to thank me for the relationship I have with his daughter. He reminds me that in the meantime that our flourishing business is our baby, and I’m kind of the “mother” at our shop. The validation of my strengths as a woman, as a businesswoman, as a human being means the world to me.

Aaliyah spent the last several days with us. It was a handful of days comprised of school projects, laughter, dancing (more like me and Jay dancing while she rolled her eyes at us), and talking about our fears and dreams.  She also hung out at the shop and saw us and the rest of our team hustling hard to build an empire that may be hers one day if she wants it.

This morning, Aaliyah and Jay went to fetch breakfast so we could all share a meal together at the condo. When they got back, I was called to the kitchen by the sounds of Aaliyah unpacking our food. Our normal “good morning” greeting was a “Happy Mother’s Day” from her. My heart smiled, and I knew that any feeling of sadness about not holding an official title of “mother” was erased.  And my face smiled in a way I have never smiled before.  I’m the stepmother to a brilliant and kind soul, someone who is not blood-related to me, but shares the kind of heart I have. It was a validation that, in my quiet thoughts alone now, bring me to tears.

As I celebrate Mother’s Day for the first time this year (without any feelings of inadequacy), I wish a HAPPY MOTHERS DAY to all the women out there that nurture the kind of love in others that keep our world a beautiful one.

(The Lopezes – May 2016)

Don’t judge me.

But I have two dogs. One is named Shitty.  And the newer addition is Dukey.  I assure you… having dogs named after bodily excrements was not the direction I was headed, but I got suckered into it.  I’m not about to explain how this happened, because that’s all said and done, and my concern at this point is of another nature.

Shitty knows his name.  But Dukey?  He’s not the brightest.  I could call him Beef Jerky and he trots in my direction like I’m calling him over.  Maybe he likes beef jerky?  Sure.  But I’ve even called him Bath Time (which he hates) but he’ll still come.  It doesn’t matter what I call him.  So can I change his name?  No really… can I?

All my life, although Happy Days is before my time, some people will ask “Where’s Chachi?” or exclaim “Joanie loves Chachi!” when they learn my name.

I’m considering giving Dukey a new name:  Chachi.  Joanie loves Chachi.  And I do love this doggie.  Should I?  Or nah?

My most recent project has me working from a medical center.  And something totally random happened the other day.

My morning started early.  I hadn’t had any sleep the night before.  I was leaving the building not to go home from an already long day at the office, but to rush to another work event that would last into the late evening.   Both shoulders armed with heavy bags, and an odd-shaped box in my hands, I hobbled to my car in a pair of [beautiful but not yet broken-in] heels under the merciless Vegas sun.  As I was crossing the street, I realized that what I thought was mumbling coming from the old woman walking with me in the same direction, wasn’t mumbling at all.  What I was hearing were whimpers and sad groaning.

I hesitated for a second, but I asked her if she was alright.  She looked at me, still walking, not even bothering to wipe the tears from her eyes and said “I’m going to die.”  Like an asshole, I replied, “We’re all dying really.”  She then explained that she just came from the cardiologist and she’s going to require surgery.  I told her that a lot of people undergo serious surgeries but spring back better than before.  “You’ll be fine,” I said.  I felt prepared to answer back with whatever generic, somewhat comforting words, to ensure she wouldn’t drive home with wet eyes.  She was sobbing now, and explained that she’s already had 4 bypasses and she’s not hopeful about this 5th one.

The world stopped then.

Not knowing how to respond, I stopped walking.  She did too.  We just looked at each other for a couple seconds, and I placed the box and both bags on the parking lot pavement.  I hugged her.  No words to reassure that things would be ok.  I embraced a stranger because I didn’t have the right words.  She stopped sobbing.  But my own sobbing started.

I don’t know this woman.  I don’t know if she’s going to be okay.  I thought that my hug would console her.  And maybe it did.  But what I quickly realized was I was hugging her not for her consolation, but to quiet my own worries.  To tell myself that things were going to be okay.  My own struggles, uncertainties, and insecurities are often hidden behind a wide toothy smile.  Or I will try to disappear so the less-content side of me isn’t seen.  But in that moment I didn’t care what side was shown.  That hug fixed things, even if for just a moment.  I think she knew it too.  That hug wasn’t for her.  It was for me.  The hug lasted for a good minute.  Life was less heavy for 60 seconds.  And she wiped my tears away for me.

I left the parking lot still thinking about the list of things I had to do and all the stuff I have to figure out.  And she likely left still terrified and uncertain of her own fate.

But I know that neither of us have to face it alone.

385 days ago, I lied.

I said I was back.  I planned a revival.  And I didn’t follow thru with it.  Not that you were paying attention.  But let’s give this another shot.  After many plans that have gone awry (i.e., diets, exercise plans, not spending money on totally ridiculous shit, even promises made that I have broken), maybe starting a trivial regimen like typing a few words will inspire more consistent behavior that will make for a better me.

Another post to immediately follow.

With this post, I’m 2 days shy of an entire year since I’ve uttered a [blog]word on joaniebean.

I’m back.  Hopefully new and improved 😉

Received flowers at work.  Sweet!

Morningstar Garden Veggie Patties:  total time-savers and delicious.  I love that this “burger” has the textures of the vegetables that’s in it.  Most foods that aim to mimick meat are not appealing to me, and I wouldn’t consider these meat wannabes.  Instead, it’s a bunch of vegetables I’d want to eat anyway conveniently shaped into a pattie for ease of cooking. 

Arm Candy. (Stacks on stacks on stacks).  Heehee.  Wearing lots of accessories all at once is a must!  Checking the time and realizing it’s all going by too quick isn’t all that bad when I’m looking at it all pretty on my wrist like this.

Shlore = Shoe Slut/Whore

A few of my favorites this summer.  Yummy!

Mark Zuckerberg is getting a lot of flack for chowing on some Mickey D’s with his new bride in Rome, where there certainly isn’t a shortage of more exciting culinary experiences…

I don’t roll my eyes to this at all.  I think it’s crazy that just because someone has a net worth in the billions, people are going to expect that he’ll wear, use, consume only the finest and most expensive.  That he can’t enjoy more simple things. 

Now, I’m not a billionaire, but just because I can afford more sophisticated eats than let’s say…. boxed macaroni and cheese does not mean I’ll turn my nose up at the quick and simple meal once in a while.  I’ll even throw some diced up, pan-fried hot dogs in the mix a la trailer park dinner!  Hebrew Nationals, of course… they’re my favorite 😉  It’s actually what I had for lunch today.  I am not ashamed to share this with you.  Though I’m not sure if my sister-in-law would want me to tell anyone that she prepared and shared the nostalgically tasty meal with me (the hot dogs were my special request, LOL… Thanks Jen!).  Sometimes the simplest just hits the spot. 

Give Mr. and Mrs. Z a break.  Look at how adorable they are together… how can you be mad at that?

I snapped this photo on my way in to the office on a Saturday morning. It was about 9am. You might not catch it at first glance, but the moon was still out, even after the sun had made his presence to the world that day. It made me smile that these two opposites, who seem to serve such different purposes, co-existed in the same sky and stuck around to play together for awhile. I like to look at this photo and remind myself that not everything has to be compartmentalized. Things, people, worlds, can mingle together even if we always thought they would or should not. And it’s not bad at all. It’s quite beautiful.