We've been together…well…for, like, ever. JD and I dated in high school and have been together ever since. I know him better than I know the creases in the palm of my hand. But that doesn't mean he still doesn't do things that boggle my mind. Like, WHAT PLANET ARE YOU FROM?! Because, really, that might be totally acceptable on Mars, but here where us regular folk live, umm, yeah…doesn't make sense.

A couple days ago, JD came home with not three, or six, or 12 tennis balls. He came home with SIXTY NEW BALLS….as in 20 containers of tennis balls. Why? Because they were a great deal, and he wants to get back into tennis. He also came home with 16 pairs of ankle socks, a mouthguard, and a pack of Big League Chew. The mouthguard? Have.no.idea.why.

We're hosting a tapas party for my best friend's birthday this weekend and though we've never made tapas, we are excited to try. JD is so excited he suggested making potatoes au gratin. And I'm all, Dude, that's French! Then he suggested stuffing gyro with kalmata olives and feta. And I'm all, Dude, that's Greek! He says tapas is simply a term for finger foods…call me silly, but last I heard tapas are Spanish. This is when he pretends he has an earache in both ears and can't hear me. The good news is that he bought miniature forks for our party. And, really, food just tastes better when eaten with a miniature fork. Trust me. I'm way fancy.

JD finally got a new phone yesterday, but when asked what he was going to do with his first generation iPhone, he said he was going to save it. Like a collector's item. That's right, Internet, I blame Steve Jobs for my garage looking like an ad hoc nod to the Smithsonian. Just without the marble columns and the fancy bathroom signs. When I objected to his idea, he simply said he'd place the phone next to my Michael Jackson commemorative Time magazine. I wish I was lying.