"Not" Super Saturday will be Friday, October 21st. Check out the link and take a gander to see if something peeks your interest.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
about backpacking
Can we come to an agreement that camping is difficult? It's difficult and dirty and hot and cold and have I mentioned dirty and tiring and dirty. And while camping is all of those things, this past weekend we Draney's made things even more difficult by packing everything onto our backs and walking a mile away from the dedicated ipod charger that is our car.
After the exhausting mile hike up the most treacherous terrain known to man, also referred to as Horton Creek Trail 1: grade gentle, we picked the site we deemed would be most suitable for unicorn sitings...

... and a few gypsy children were spotted as well.

This gypsy girl gave a convincing modelesque pose...

...and of course man did the stupid manly stuff that man does when he's in the manly wilderness environment.

It's the poor, wincing manly-man on the bottom who came up with the grand idea to leave our DVRs and memory foam pillows. Our meals consisted of virtually weightless Mountain House dehydrated beef teriyaki, oatmeal, and a bag of crushed, dry peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Trader Joes sponsored our excursion by providing us with plenty of dehydrated fruit to snack on, as well as a carton of mush that once resembled inside-out carrot cookies that someone thought would last the trek smashed between 2 sleeping bags (all fingers point to myself). We truly lived off the land and used the creek to supply our water for cooking, washing, and re-hydrating.
We only suffered through a few injuries -
a broken toe of a 4 year old after a powerful stubbing and a thrown out back by the 34 year old Clintly-manly-man after trying to escape what he claimed to be a fire-breathing wasp.
I did my best to steal this baby's affections...

... and while her mother slept in until 9am(!!), the cutest baby in existence napped on my shoulder while I whispered subconscious disapproval about her mother still sleeping even though the baby and her brothers had been up since 6am and I would never do that to her and I would never take her backpacking if she didn't want to go and I would always give her cookies for dinner...

Asher somehow managed to become more God-like in that he suddenly became buoyant enough to walk on water...

... oh, nope, that's just a rock he's standing on which makes more sense since somehow he managed to set the world record for being tattled on for bad behavior 54.9 times in the span of 24 hours.
Good highlights you ask? I'd have to say it was my friend's fabulous pork burrito I finished off at the Mexican restaurant we dined in on the way up to Payson. And for good measure I'll throw in the mushroom, garlic, tomato pizza we ate on the way out.
And maybe also the company and memories but don't tell Clint or Ryan I said that since they'll use it against me when I say no to the next backpacking trip.
Monday, July 11, 2011
about cheesy yearbook quotes
Thursday, June 23, 2011
about losing my stuff
We're going to play a little game called WHERE IS JAYLEE'S WALLET and/or KEYS and/or PHONE and/or WEDDING RING?
At any time, I'm unable locate one or more of these objects. My wedding ring comes in first place as the most sought after article. I frequently remove it to wash my hands, clean the dishes, scratch my bum bum, etc., and I place it on whatever pseudo-flat surface is within arms reach. Last week it was precariously placed on the top of the couch's arm rest for several days. A year ago, my ring went missing for several weeks and after much searching, I assumed it had fallen out of my pocket (another favorite place I keep it) in some parking lot. To my great relief, I finally found it shoved in the crease of our couch. After wards, I vowed to always know exactly where my ring was. That lasted about 9 minutes. Clint once found my ring amongst the carpet fibers on our bedroom floor and seized an opportunity to teach me a lesson. I quickly noticed it was MIA, and searched for several days, not letting on to Clint that anything was amiss, unaware that he had full knowledge of it's hidden location and was enjoying my panic. Tird.
The Second place/First loser reigning champ is my wallet. Recently, on a grocery shopping excursion, I grabbed for my wallet as I was getting out of the car, only to find it wasn't there, nor in any other of it's usual 12 spots. I figured it must have been left behind at Sunflower. Without panic, I drove back, secretly thanking the stars that I had left it at Sunflower rather than Walmart. Isn't that a terrible thing to say? I associate Sunflower with hippy-dippy, Merrel clad, curry smelling folk who wouldn't dare rock Mother Earth's boat and keep a wallet's contents for themselves. Walmart is associated more with hip-hoppy, nike clad, $5 Little Caeser's pizza take-out smelling individuals who would probably flip off Mother Earth if she unintentionally cut in front of them at a Redbox. I found my wallet in the cart I used, the cart that I had precariously positioned between 4 conjoining parking spots (I'm a lazy cart put-er away-er). Crisis averted.
I made my way back to Walmart, bought my coveted Herdez salsa (only $1.68!), and continued on to Frys. As I was getting out of the car, I noticed my phone was missing. I was fairly certain that it came into Walmart with me, and after searching it's usual 12 spots, I got in the car and drove back to Walmart. I looked for my strategically placed cart, only to find the parking lot had recently been swept. I spoke with the greeter, my checkout lady, and I backtracked my shopping path, only to come up empty handed. Customer service was a bust, suggesting that I call my phone (with what?). When I got home and had a phone, I called my cell, fully expecting to hear it ringing from some recess of the car, only to have someone answer it. Walmart's customer service was in possession of my phone and had been while I was at the store asking about it. They required that I fully explain my background image before releasing it back to me.
It's an inappropriate picture of a 4 year old?

I think I'm doomed and won't learn anything meaningful from these near misses until one time I actually come up empty handed. Any words of advice?
At any time, I'm unable locate one or more of these objects. My wedding ring comes in first place as the most sought after article. I frequently remove it to wash my hands, clean the dishes, scratch my bum bum, etc., and I place it on whatever pseudo-flat surface is within arms reach. Last week it was precariously placed on the top of the couch's arm rest for several days. A year ago, my ring went missing for several weeks and after much searching, I assumed it had fallen out of my pocket (another favorite place I keep it) in some parking lot. To my great relief, I finally found it shoved in the crease of our couch. After wards, I vowed to always know exactly where my ring was. That lasted about 9 minutes. Clint once found my ring amongst the carpet fibers on our bedroom floor and seized an opportunity to teach me a lesson. I quickly noticed it was MIA, and searched for several days, not letting on to Clint that anything was amiss, unaware that he had full knowledge of it's hidden location and was enjoying my panic. Tird.
The Second place/First loser reigning champ is my wallet. Recently, on a grocery shopping excursion, I grabbed for my wallet as I was getting out of the car, only to find it wasn't there, nor in any other of it's usual 12 spots. I figured it must have been left behind at Sunflower. Without panic, I drove back, secretly thanking the stars that I had left it at Sunflower rather than Walmart. Isn't that a terrible thing to say? I associate Sunflower with hippy-dippy, Merrel clad, curry smelling folk who wouldn't dare rock Mother Earth's boat and keep a wallet's contents for themselves. Walmart is associated more with hip-hoppy, nike clad, $5 Little Caeser's pizza take-out smelling individuals who would probably flip off Mother Earth if she unintentionally cut in front of them at a Redbox. I found my wallet in the cart I used, the cart that I had precariously positioned between 4 conjoining parking spots (I'm a lazy cart put-er away-er). Crisis averted.
I made my way back to Walmart, bought my coveted Herdez salsa (only $1.68!), and continued on to Frys. As I was getting out of the car, I noticed my phone was missing. I was fairly certain that it came into Walmart with me, and after searching it's usual 12 spots, I got in the car and drove back to Walmart. I looked for my strategically placed cart, only to find the parking lot had recently been swept. I spoke with the greeter, my checkout lady, and I backtracked my shopping path, only to come up empty handed. Customer service was a bust, suggesting that I call my phone (with what?). When I got home and had a phone, I called my cell, fully expecting to hear it ringing from some recess of the car, only to have someone answer it. Walmart's customer service was in possession of my phone and had been while I was at the store asking about it. They required that I fully explain my background image before releasing it back to me.
It's an inappropriate picture of a 4 year old?

I think I'm doomed and won't learn anything meaningful from these near misses until one time I actually come up empty handed. Any words of advice?
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
about sandwiches
This past week, Emma's girl scout troop volunteered to prepare 100 sack lunches for distribution through the Phoenix Rescue Mission, which is an organization that serves the Phoenix homeless. Five squirrely 9 year olds got together and pb&j'ed the heck out of 200 slices of bread. After the bags were packed and the sandwiches were sufficiently squished underneath bottles of water and granola bars, I offered to drop them off to the Mission's main campus. Since Asher was going to be tagging along, I took the opportunity to explain to him what exactly we were doing and how our actions were benefiting those less fortunate. He was very interested in the fact that people can live outside rather than in a home and asked where they slept. I told him that I've seen quite a few gentlemen sleeping on park benches. I'm sure to him that sounds like the ideal situation - play at the park, sleep on the bench, and repeat. As I pulled up to the center to speak with the gate keeper, I noticed there were at least 30 men of the homeless variety milling around the gated entrance (and by gated I mean a locked barbed wire fence). Asher noticed the men as well and quickly seized an opportunity. He proceeded to take off his seat belt, roll down his window, and stick half his body out of the car to yell loudly
"WHY DON'T YOU GUYS LIVE IN A HOME?
DO YOU SLEEP ON THE SWINGS TOO?"
"WHY DON'T YOU GUYS LIVE IN A HOME?
DO YOU SLEEP ON THE SWINGS TOO?"
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
about Easter
A comparative look between my Passover Seder and the Internet's Passover Seder
A respectable Jewish family's Seder pic lifted from Wikipedia
Elijah's cup is the understated silver goblet downstage
Martha Stewart's adaptation of a Seder place setting
My Grandmother's adaptation of a Seder place setting

What Mrs. Stewart does with her Matzo crackers

What we do with ours

Emma showcasing a few of the 10 plagues - Frogs, Lice, Locusts...

and Darkness

10 minutes prior to Seder

10 minutes into Seder

11 minutes prior to Seder

11 minutes into Seder

and after all that Seder business was over, we Draney's celebrated Christ's death via Zombie Booth (the most disturbing app ever)

Monday, April 25, 2011
about customer service
Are there any among you who are as irritated as I am with Hobby Lobby's method of ringing up merchandise? Hand entering prices seems antiquated, and it makes for very sloppy receipts since I have to write all over it to remind myself what I purchased since SCRAPBOOK ITEM is a bit vague. Because they don't use a barcode system, they must count every item while ringing up customers, rather than scanning each item and letting the computer do the math. I recently purchased 10 of the same item, and while I was at the cashier, we both took turns counting how many items I had. Twice I came up with the number 10, and twice he came up with the number 11. He stared silently at me, willing me to break and agree that he was correct, being that he must have had hours of special training during his orientation on how to count merchandise and since I was at least 10 years older than him, my eye sight and mind clearly was, let's just say, more far gone than his own. Needless to say, I broke and said "fine, ring it up for 11."
As most of my purchases go, days later I decided to return my 10/11 items. Lo and behold, the returns cashier counted 10 items, and proceeded to credit me for only 10 items.
Breezy Jaylee - "Oh, you only credited me for 10 items. The receipt says that I purchased 11 items, but that's only because one of your cashier's counted incorrectly."
Decently Nice Cashier - "Hmm, well, I can only credit you for the items that you're returning, which is only 10."
Ironic Jaylee - "Yes, but when the cashier was ringing them up, he and I took turns counting and I kept counting 10 and he kept counting 11, and we ultimately decided to go with his count. "
Stern Cashier - "I understand ma'am, but since you're only returning 10 items, I can only credit you for 10 items."
Flabbergasted Jaylee - "Why would I by 11 items? Doesn't that seem like a weird number? I know I only took 10 items from your store that day, and I was incorrectly charged for an additional item."
At this point she calls the manager over and explains the situation.
Unapologetic Manager - "Ma'am, we can't credit you for an item that we don't have at the time of return."
Furious Jaylee - "Look, I shop at Hobby Lobby all the time, more than I do your competitors. I understand your policy, but it was YOUR cashier's mistake, and I don't feel like I should have to pay for his mistake. Can you please credit me for that additional item, and chalk it up to good customer service?"
The managers turns to the cashier and says "Just give her the credit."
In case you're mistakenly thinking I came into a windfall and Hobby Lobby's stinginess was justified, the merchandise I was returning was 10 sheets of scrapbook paper on sale for .05 each. Cha ching!
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