Vay-Cay

Weekly Jules is going to spend some time under re-construction. Botox? Implants? No, nothing that exciting. Just re-evaluating the direction for the blog while a few irons heat up in the fire.


In the meantime, I want to wish my blogger friends a very happy summer (school's out in 90 minutes, my party-of-one clock is ticking) and promise to check in as much as I can...

• Chris at Knucklehead:  With every post, you prove The Onion should be begging you to drop out of school and work for them.
• Cora and Scope:  Best Wishes for happiness always and forever! (Check them out, they met RIGHT HERE in blog world and are getting MARRIED this summer!)
• Mrs. Eye Can See:  I hope to be back before baby boy bounces out, which I hope is quick and painless. He will re-define "worth the squeeze!"
• Skylar's Dad:  You embody two of my favorite things. Parenting special-needs and a twisted loved of tattoos.
• Ron:  Everyone needs a friend like you to entertain, inform and give us the Hollywood down-low. Always remember and never forget, you can go as fast as you want!
• And check out newbie blogger, Eddie C, for insight and humor as he navigates his way around our ever-changing world and prepares for marriage this fall!

And be sure to check out the Lawrence Journal-World (search Julie Dunlap) for River City Jules, appearing every Monday.


Have a great summer, see you again soon!
-Jules

She's Only 12-and-a-half...

     I have this "friend" who happens to have a daughter in 7th grade, just like me. Her daughter is going out with a boy (and, by "going out," we mean they only text each other and have an understanding of only dancing with each other at the few school dances each year.)

     All year long my "friend" has wondered if her daughter and this boy would ever move from exclusive texting to first base. Not hoping, just wondering.

     Any plan for it to happen at the Valentine dance was squashed when the boyfriend came down ill the week before. Not wanting to see her daughter home from school sick like the boyfriend was, my "friend" suggested to her daughter that she keep a healthy distance from the boy.

     No moves were made at the next dance, thanks to some very close chaperoning by my "friend's" friends.

     So it came down the final dance of the year. The daughter looked fresh, innocent and so happy to bop about the dance floor to the Black Eyed Peas. The boy seemed to be a bit pale. Their friends hoped this would be their night to move into new territory, making lip-to-lip contact for the very first time.

     The daughter was nervous. The boy was irritated. Neither of them knew exactly how to handle the pressure as their friends continued to push the two into lip-locking. And then the boy spoke up:

     "Knock it off, guys," he told the posse, "We're only in 7th grade, we're not going to do that!"

     Upon hearing of this, my "friend" was most relieved.

     And hopeful that next year they all remember they are only in 8th...