The Post with No Pictures

Opening Day is Thursday and as of this post, we don't know where Joe will be this year. More than likely, the big bosses have already made up their minds so it is just a matter of time before we know. I will be seeing Joe this weekend, be it in Pittsburgh (Majors) or Providence (Minors) I am holding my breath to find out. Today at church the sermon was about anxiety, and no better message could have been made for me today. Worry, said Ben Young our pastor, is looking in the future with the worst case scenario in mind, it is looking into a future without God.  And I know that whatever happens with and for Joe, God will be there no matter the outcome. I only wish I was there to be supportive. Giving major (pun intended) news via text or even phone call is not quite the same as in person. 


On Saturday we celebrated one of Joe's best friend's, Adam Z, birthday. Everyone brought their dogs and we all, canine and humans alike, enjoyed the sunny weather and new homeowner Derek's pool. Adam Z sacrificed birthday boy lounging and boiled big, fat crawfish. Crawfish, like many shellfish, are cooked alive so we had a giant cooler of pinchy little guys. Lize and Bryce and I became nine years old and poked them till they got in fighting stance-- claws up and out. What is it about things being small and aggressive is always funny? Lize's dog Duke got in a small tussle with one and I am sad to report the crawfish (kind of) won by a massive pinch to the snout. Duke flung it in the air and homeowner Derek got rid of it so we wouldn't have another incident. Polly would not have bounced back as fast as Duke had she been the curious dog of the day. Poor thing did come home with blisters on her paws from running all day. She hardly even made it to her bed before conking out when we got home. 
(I am a terrible photographer and rely on Bryce to document such things as this--- and the pictures aren't on Facebook yet for me to steal and claim as my own artistry)




All of this excitement also put me to bed early and all to aware that Joe was not there. I guess it is like never feeling as lonely as you do in a crowd when you're all alone (yeah, Wade Bowen lyric*), it is never more obvious that Joe is gone than when I am somewhere he should be. His good buddy Brian "Viernes", too, was notably missed and something feels off with the group's absences. When people ask, "How is married life?" I say, "Kind of like being single." But a really pathetic kind of single-- not the fun girl who says things like, "I don't have time for a relationship" or "I am just not into boyfriend/girlfriend labels." Not that I want to be this girl, I just want to be with my husband more. 


My creative writing class has reminded me why I have wanted to teach it and why I love to write. I submitted my story this week for my workshop in two weeks. I went with a piece I wanted to revisit from my thesis. It is easily one of my most controversial pieces and I fully expect for at least 6 people to hate it after the first paragraph... but hate isn't a bad thing, it is an emotional reaction and I want my readers to feel something. It makes me think more and more about writing a collection one day, or even a memoir about all the baseball stuff from my perspective. My friends from college liked this idea when I mentioned it in the summer, so long as I include them in the story and then write one about college. The latter might have to come much later and let the statute of limitations come into play for some incriminating tales.... mostly just so things that need time to be funny can do so. 
(If I put pictures with this paragraph I would either be a major creep in creative writing class or a very hated member of my college friend group)


But a baseball story, told from the stands with a hot dog in fluted paper balancing on my knee, might happen. I guess that will be something I worry (or not worry, thanks Ben)about later. For now, I will just not-worry about how what to bring on my trip to either Providence or Pittsburgh. Charlie Manuel**, give me a call if you can and let me know what you think I should pack. 


*Wade Bowen, Texas Country singer/songwriter. One of my favorites. 
**Charlie Manuel, Phillies manager.


Since I didn't have any cool pictures dealing with content, here is one just because.  This is what I wake up to if Polly stays in the bed with me: 

She has absolutely no sense of personal space. 

The Flying Corgi

Polly and I made the journey to Florida together for Spring Training. We almost didn't make it, however,  due to heinous lines at the airport-- thank you United and Continental for merging, it sure made things go at an excruciatingly slow pace. I cried to a security guard that my flight was leaving in 15 minutes (true) and I hadn't seen my husband in a month (exaggeration). He said no passengers could be expedited, no exceptions. Real tears ensued at this point. The twelve people in front of me felt compassion towards the crying girl holding the puppy and let me cut. I then broke Olympic Gold Medal records sprinting through the airport to get to my gate, which was the very last one because, really, why would anything about traveling be easy?

If you have more than 4 people working, things would probably go faster, IAH. 

We made it safe and sound and Joe was happy to see his girls. Let the record reflect that he hugged Polly before me, a gesture I will not soon forget.


Polly flew the weekend before last to visit my sister and various friends in Oxford. She was great except on the flight back I fell asleep and she barked until I woke up. It was pretty rude, if you ask me.


Currently, she is chewing my shoe laces which will inevitably lead to me telling Joe I need new tennies. Chew those shoes up all you want, just stay away from my Louboutins.

Exhausted from traveling and shoe-chewing

I have experienced a different side of life in the past week or so. Not only did I become one of those women that travels with her dog, I got a taste of what it is like to not work (I feel there is some cross-over between these two categories).


After dropping Joe off at the field while it is still dark--crazy fans already lined up at the fence to try and get autographs-- I have had loads of free time till the game starts. I have gotten to do things I don't get that much time to do at home such as go back to bed, work out, read terrible magazines, watch TV,  pick out clothes and make new outfits that Rachel Zoe* would even be proud of, learn what all the buttons are on my iPad and go get my nails done. I have to say, it has been really nice having the down time. The obvious perk of getting to spend time with Joe is priority, but I am seeing what it will be like this summer and what it would be like if I were to stop work and travel with him full time.

At the famous Ceviche, note my cool outfit 

One wife here is a retired Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. She and her husband, who shall remain nameless, got married in November and she will move with him to Philadelphia and travel to the games that she can when they play away.
One girlfriend quit her job as a body builder ( I am sure there are more professional terms for this) and worked some at Nieman Marcus in Tampa, then got transferred to  Nieman Marcus not far from the AAA team and Philadelphia last year. She said that she has gone in and worked once a week or so since getting to spring training with her boyfriend. Both have given up their careers for the time being to travel with their husband/boyfriend. The most time they will spend away from their respective partners will be when a road trip goes especially long, meaning about 6 days. I am insanely jealous of them; however, I have a different situation.


 I  have the job I wanted since I was in elementary school. Not a filler job that I am trying to eventually work up towards, no, I got THE job I want. And while I am exhausted and stressed and have found myself locking my classroom door to cry once in a while, I don't know that I could trade that for being here. Joe and I have rationalized that with the summer and the off season, we are really only apart 4 1/2 months. If I can travel to see him every other weekend, than that isn't too bad. Of course, that is a big if. If I am able to find flights that I don't have to miss work. If I am able to find the energy to get on a plane every other week only to arrive at my destination at midnight, then return Sunday night as late as I can as to spend time with Joe only to find myself wanting to take my coffee intravenously Monday morning.

                                                This is what I miss when I am not with Joe


I went to a wives' conference over Spring Break put on by PAO (Professional Athletes Outreach) and Baseball Chapel. It was so insightful to meet other wives in this position. Some  women have grown children who they themselves are already playing pro ball, and some are newlyweds like myself. The primary was discussion about keeping perspective and being able to find God in everything we do, and if we don't, change courses. Our speaker Rene Taubensee made a point that really struck a cord in me: Women at home don't get this. This is probably the hardest thing, seeing friendships sift out differently than I ever thought they would. Being gone almost every weekend takes up a lot of social time to cultivate my friendships at home. There were some great, inspiring women that I met that I look forward to becoming better friends with in the baseball world-- but what about  my roots are in Houston (or Oxford, for that matter)?


PAO link: http://www.pao.org/
Baseball Chapel link: http://baseballchapel.org/


Basically I have made my home in between a rock and a hard place. I am away from my husband and feel more alone than I ever have, but have the job I went to college for and have wanted since I thought I was a March** sister from Little Women. And not only do I want my job, I feel needed here. I feel like I serve a greater purpose than my own professional ambition right now. Or, I am with my husband and we can grow in our marriage and love while I potentially go crazy because I don't know how be satisfied with setting my schedule around when my dog needs to poop or getting manicures or  Zumba class***-- I fear I would not be a productive, happy wife, nay, human being, if I did not have the intellectual stimulation I do now--


But does staying here make me a bad wife?


(By the way, in my head right now Sarah Jessica Parker is narrating this like she does when Carrie muses on Sex and the City)

I wish this is how I looked when I typed

So I pray for patience in all my trials, rest when I am able to find it, strength when I am weary, overwhelming love for my husband and my job and hope that United will offer frequent flyer miles for dogs.




I have started taking a creative writing class at Rice. It is a continuing education class which means I am the youngest of 18 aspiring and  inexperienced writers. Stay tuned for my observations from class.






* Rachel Zoe = the styling equivalent to Moses, she leads thousand through the wilderness of the unfashionable world. At some point, I will write a fashion blog post. If you need anyone to help you pick out clothes or go shopping for you, contact me.
**Wonderful book and movie, Christian Bale and Winona Ryder in the early 90's-- why doesn't Jo choose Laurie!!??
***Don't get me wrong,  I love manicures, pedicures and Zumba. I do not love poop.

What are you getting?

Joe and I fell in love over a meal... or maybe a few more than that, but food certainly was and is a huge factor in our marriage. For this reason, we don’t take eating together lightly. We aren’t just going to swing through some franchise fast food place to grab dinner or worse yet, pour a bowl of cereal. Forget that noise. Oh, no. If there is food to be had, we want to eat at a place that we won’t soon forget.

The challenge? Minor league baseball teams are not in towns found in the Zagat guide.

First challenge: Clearwater, FL
Joe has Spring Training here. It is a short drive from Tampa, which is great in terms of getting to. The same cannot be said for the AA and AAA teams.

Below I have gone through the most important food stops in the Clearwater Beach area.

Breakfast: 
Lenny’s : Lenny’s is your typical diner. Big haired waitresses waiting for their cigarette breaks, syrup in the perpetually sticky pourers, signed baseball paraphernalia on the wall and eggs more ways than you can think of. The danish basket alone is worth it. They will make your omlette however you want and the waffles are delish, too. Joe and I usually team eat in order to get equal parts salty and sweet in our caloric indulgence. These people are beyond kind to Joe when he goes in alone about 5 days a week and does the USA Today crossword puzzle in a booth. 

Clear Sky Cafe: The French toast here is the best I have ever had. And I have eaten a LOT of French toast. Huevos Rancheros eggs are also amazing here. Notice how multicultural I am in my dining experience. I do not discriminate any food, except salad. Anyways, this place is great. Outdoor seating, which is nice in pleasent weather. Fill up a big coffee cup and eat till you start saying things like, “Merci beaucoup for la toast de France y los eggs de ranchos.”*  

The French Toast pictured is the Java flavor. No breakfast is complete without coffee. Heck, no day is complete without coffee.

Java French toast with cinnamon butter 

Lunch: St. Petersburg Italian Market is the place to go if you want bread with the consistency of a cloud and melted cheese and peppers in your mouth, than you need to go eat here. The Philly cheese steak with chicken is my favorite sandwich-- ever. Italians know food, they take pride in their food, and the Italian Market is very worthy of Italian pride. Get yourself some coffee made from the big copper coffee maker, sit at the bar and watch the pastry chefs make beautiful little sugary treats. 

Started eating the cheese steak before I thought to take a picture 

After your cheese steak or pizza panini (yeah, you read that right. It is a special item so cross your fingers it is there ), get a canoli and another cup of coffee and some gelato.  Real gelato, not ice cream that is calling itself gelato. Pisachio is a standard favorite (pictures below), but Nutella and Frutti de Bosco are other top choices of mine. Joe and I have sat here for hours. If there is one thing to look forward to in Spring Training, it is knowing I will go eat at the Italian Market. 

Pistachio gelato, don't let the color intimidate. Or do, more gelato for me than. 

Dinner: Ceviche
A totally random find, but a freaking gem. Joe and I Googled this place and thought, yeah, sounds better than Hooters (the original Hooters is in Clearwater, less than a mile from the field. Thank you for playing to stereotypes about athletes). It is tapas, meaning basically appetizers, meaning team eating at its finest. Get a sangria wine and begin a Spanish feast. The filetito is to die for. Beef, peppers, goat cheesed, toasted bread-- so simple, yet so tantalizing. Then get the piquenos rellenos. They are red peppers full of cheese, chorizo and veal. You just about want to get into the pepper yourself. The fish and garlic grilled shrimp is wonderful, though I personally think you have to get fish if you are in a place that you can see the ocean. Try the frog legs, too. I know eating Kermit sounds daunting, but it is totally worth it. They're fried and an old sock would taste good fried. So go to Ceviche if you are ever in the Tampa Bay area. Just tell them Jen sent you.

Actually, don’t because they don’t know who I am. But maybe one day I will be greeted at the door with a bouquet of stuffed peppers and a box of filetitos. 

After a delicious, gluttonous weekend, the time has come to return to Houston. You know when you don't care about PDA? When you're saying good-bye. Nor do you care about crying in public, Public Displays of Sadness? Of tears? Something like that. Even now, thinking about waking up tomorrow a thousand miles apart makes my eyes sting. 

Joe and I were very intentional on taking counseling classes with the church. We read stacks of books about being married and took compatibility quizzes. And they were very insightful. But I haven't found one that answers the questions we are faced with within this lifestyle. So tonight, belly and heart empty, I go to sleep praying to find a way to take on marriage from a distance and for sweet dreams of eating french toast and cheese steaks with Joe. 

* I am aware that this is a grotesque combination of two languages. I chose to write this for comedic effect, I don't actually think this makes any real sense.

The Shortest Distance Between Two People (and cheesy things like that)

I love how my head fits in the slope of Joe's neck and shoulder. I don't believe in "The One," but simple things like puzzle piece body parts make it very clear God places people in our lives  for a purpose. Joe's purpose is for me to lay my head on his chest-- the soft ba-dum of his heartbeat in my ear and his voice to seeming to echo off of it-- and feel at home there forever and ever.

Except  baseball season takes him 1,000 miles away.

A month into our marriage, this time has come. I will not sugar coat my feelings and say things about being stronger and "the course of true love never did run smooth"* I won't, because being away from him physically hurts. If you have ever come off of serious painkillers, the slow disorientating lull-ish pain, that's what it feels like being apart. A feeling that grew familiar with our dating last season, but seems to have amplified in some culmination of the newness of our marriage and the flouting of the distance in the off season.

I wish I had found this for our cake

I once told Joe that it seems better to remain small to the world, this is after seeing Country Strong**. I told him that in trying to be big to the world, or rather maintaining this status was the tragic flaw of people-- and the tragic flaw of our society for perpetuating it. What love does, though, is make your world shrink to a beautiful microcosm between you and that person. You are big to them, they to you, and that is all that matters. If you can find this in another person: be willing to admit every flaw you have, forgive them for all of their flaws, be willing to admit all the things you want and then put everything they need as a higher importance. It's that simple.  None of the "I deserve this" or "I have a right." No, it isn't about your rights-- it's a servantile love that mirrors the love of God, and the kind of love that lasts.  Romantic comedies, women's magazines and society's definition of success tells us to demand, tells us we deserve something from someone. God tells us to give ourselves and our needs up to take up another's cross.

This is all to say that baseball season has a specific cross to bear with it. So though I curse the distance, Joe is called to be there. And I know his Christian presence has to change people, his example has to affect and inspire. I can affect and inspire by supporting my husband and respecting him and loving him more than myself, which I do--

          And in the end, my head is on his shoulder no matter where we sleep at night.


Happy one month anniversary to the love of my life. You inspire me and build me up when I fall. I pray I do the same for you, always.

* quote from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. One of the most misunderstood quotes in Shakespeare. I'll explain another time, however.

** great movie starting Gweneth Paltrow. You have to watch it understanding what we do to each other as human beings, in the public and private spheres of life.



All photos except cake toppers courtesy of Kelly Hornberger Photography 

Opening Day

Playing in the minor leagues tries men (and their wives) in ways that seem only comparable to the military. Playing in the minor leagues for your fourth season when you were a first round draft pick tries your belief in not just the game, but in your ability, your purpose and your very being. So when Joe began the 2010 season a 25 year old first rounder back in high A ball, he questioned if baseball was worth the high price he seemed to be paying. 

Joe's parents and my father went to college together. We had known each other, and been pushed to date, for several years. When we did start dating, Joe made a career change from a starting pitcher to a position player and ended up in the humid, hot sun of Clearwater, FL. Joe put up video game-like numbers his first month as a hitter, I am talking an average of 621. He cooled off in May and cooled way off in June. One night, the Clearwater Threshers played in a 21 inning game and put Joe on the mound, simply because they ran out of guys in the bullpen. That night, he threw a 94 mph fast ball and an 87 mph slider. Something in his arm started working again and he was moved up to AA at the end of June. Joe continued to keep consistent numbers in the mid 90's. I was finally able to go join him in July and after only 3 weeks in AA, they told him to put up the bat for good and sent him up to be a Lehigh Valley Iron Pig, the Phillies AAA afflliate. 

I was "just a girlfriend" for the 2011 season. I put that term in quotations because that is the way we, the non-wives*, were made to feel at times; as if our dedication didn't mean as much because were weren't married. What it really meant, was that trying to take time out of my life, job, school was even harder because it was for "just a boyfriend". So to all the girlfriends out there, I commend you and your dedication to your man. 

 I was finishing my senior year at Ole Miss and it seemed that every opportunity for our plans to fall through, they crashed to the ground. We cancelled trips, paid extra to try and get on different flights, hugged good-bye next to the bus after only seeing each other for 3 hours because they decided to change the game schedule..... you get what I am trying to say. Our relationship was tested and our (my) patience wore thin. Joe is the most patient, loving man I know, but his faith is my favorite thing about him. God bless all the men whom Joe works with that he can talk to and pray with, and God bless his spiritual leadership with me through the many uncertainties of the season. Come September, being together every day was going to be a luxury; but getting through the season together allowed us to see that baseball will come and go, but we had staying power. 

Joe's team progressed to the league finals in September, thus prolonging his eventual return to Houston (much to my chagrin). On the last night of the series, I flew into Philadelphia expecting to begin the long drive back to Texas.  While I was in the air, the Phillies promoted Joe as a late September call up. On September 17, 2011, Joe dressed in his Phillies uniform and his brother, my dad and I watched him from the stands at Citizens Bank Park. Phillies clenched the NL East that night and Joe sprayed champagne in the locker room his first night as a major leaguer. The families gathered on the field and we got to see Joe in his soaked NL East Champions shirt and hat, freezing and smiling. About an hour and a half later, Joe proposed in our hotel room. My dad and his brother waited in the hotel restaurant with champagne, to which Joe toasted, "Well, Jen, I got called up and we got engaged. I think it is all downhill from here!" 

Here is hoping that it is just the start! 

We married January 14, 2012. Our wedding was amazing and so wonderful. If you are reading this and were a guest, we thank you. We could not have hoped for a better night! Everything was navy, ivory and silver with tons of candlelight, breakfast food and a band to knock your socks off... or split your rented tux pants down the crotch seam, which is what happened to one of Joe's groomsman. Best. Night. Ever. Best man to marry ever!  

Basically how we looked all night. Notice my beautiful friends and mother behind us.
Thanks, Kelly Hornberger Photography  

Now, a month later,  Joe will leave for Spring Training. Part of the 40 Man, we don't know what this season holds for Joe. I will remain in Houston teaching high school English until summer and then go travel with him and our 4 month old Corgi, Polly Pocket. 

Baseball life creates a tumultuous juxtaposition of monotony and spontaneity. Joe will do basically the same thing everyday until, at the drop of a hat (or ERA), he gets moved to a new town, new team. Until June, Joe and I will take on the long distance marriage, something I am certain I will not recommend trying, let alone trying as a newlywed. 

It will not be without prayer, faith and trust in God and each other that we take on this season.

Joe, me and our "child," Polly

Thus, here I am entering the blogging world. Stay tuned, this season has only just begun.....


















































* Now a wife, I promise to be as nice as I can to all the girls I meet. Be she a wife, girlfriend, fiance, side-beef or one night stand-- I will be her friend because it can be pretty boring in those stands alone. 


** Background photo courtesy of Kelly Hornberger Photography-- check her blog out, too!