Remember This.

At first, starting this blog was just a new, fun thing to "do" that I was half coerced into writing by a good friend. I Myspace'd (and quickly tired of it), I Facebooked (which I will wholly admit to continue doing, only to [stalk] share photos with friends and when I was told I should "blog," blogging seemed like "the next best thing."

Now, it's become so much more than that. It's become a creative outlet; a template to not only share needs, wants, thoughts and ideas, but also a place I can come to gossip and vent without always having to bore Hubs or talk his poor husbandly ear off. I mean, do I really think he cares about Britney's latest comeback? Or how American Idol was a total bust this year? How about the darling seersucker dress I've been drooling over, waiting for it to go on sale? I doubt it. Although, I do sincerely appreciate his humoring me.

For me, blogging has become almost a necessity. A fabulously wonderful venue in which I can swap Hubs/Puppy/Marriage/Life stories with the best of 'em. And even if I'm not writing daily, I'm addicted to reading the so many great blogs out there.

Now, I can't believe I hadn't started blogging sooner. I've come to realize that there's so much going on in my life that I want to remember- and unfortunately, it's so easy to get caught up in the day to day routines that sometimes the little things often go unnoticed or underappreciated. I'm hoping this blog will help me remember some of those little things. The funny things Hubs says. The ridiculous things I do. How much we grow as a couple. How much we change not only ourselves, but the world around us. I blog to remember.

For instance, this past weekend I was back home in Reality TV Town, New Jersey when my brother asked if I'd wanted to take a ride with him. My brother is 17 years old (um, when did that happen?) and spends his 17-year-old-free-time much like I did. I know you can remember those days, you know, back when you were cool, back when when you would spend every free second of summer driving around town with the latest homemade mix tape blasting and your friends in tow. It's the same for him. Only his iPod hooks directly up to his car and he no longer has to dexterously record songs off of the radio but uses Itunes and Rhapsody to download an entire mix CD in less than 2 minutes.

My brother has had his license for a little over six months now and I had yet to let him drive me around. Since when is my brother old enough to drive a car? And stick? I gew up with this kid. He's definitely not coordinated enough to talk and shift gears at the same time. After making him promise he wouldn't get us killed, I helped him remove the soft top from our Dad's Jeep and climbed into the passenger seat. "Woobs," as he's been affectionately referred to since the ripe age of 3, immediately turns on the CD of the moment, a mix of guido-techno-thumping and Lil' Wayne's electronically enhanced musing, and so begins our joyride.

I had a blast. Dancing like fools and driving around our hometown brought me back to my high school days, those days when your shoulders were weightless, your horizon limitless and you had few cares in the world. And what made it even better? My brother treated me to Dairy Queen. My little brother, without a second guess, offered to buy me ice cream. And after we ordered, he took out his wallet without hesitation and even tipped the kid behind the counter. My brother, the tipper! I was so touched and it was such a small gesture that made my day.

Granted, as soon as we got home, I paid for my ice cream when I handed Woobs some extra gas money.. but nonetheless, it has become one of my favorite moments. And I don't want to forget it.

Thanks Woobs, for the chocolate cone with rainbow sprinkles. For the laugh out loud moments and remembering to come to a full stop at every stop sign. And for hanging out with your much less cool, although much wiser, older sister. You're the best.