Wednesday, December 31
A sneak peek. ;)
I got in last night just before midnight. But it took me 10 minutes to connect to a cell tower to let my dad know I had landed. Good thing he's a stalker of my flights to make sure I'm on time and was waiting off airport property to swoop in and pick me up.
It wasn't a lot of sleep having to be up at 6am to get ready for work. Do I regret not spending the New Year with wook? Not really. I enjoy paying the end of the month at work as I pay bills for the company and pretend I work for a Fortune500. Besides wook is gearing up for his move further East, but more of that later.
And look forward to a holiday rendition of "the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" - that is if I can take time away from Mexican food with my parents, ringing in the New Year with Stacey, and catching up on my sleep at 12:01am. So we'll see. No promises. Only know that if I can make it appear, it'll be funny. Or at least it will be to me. If you don't get it, it's your fault. Muahhaha...
So back to work I go as I have the Beaver game tuned in on my computer.
Thank goodness "411" (my dad) was on-call to guide me through the piss-poor marked terminals and gates. Good golly. I mean I'll take walking in airports versus taking the moving sidewalks so I can get the blood flowing anyday. But come on. Never connecting in that place again.
All this happened while my mom was yelling at my dad...."Shouldn't there be someone to help her? Just have her ask someone to take her to her gate."
She doesn't get it that when bigger airports have "international" in the title, they mean it.
As wook's dad said, "Medford International Airport and Tire Care." Couldn't be closer to the truth.
My advice to SFO. Better labels. I can follow arrows. I can't follow blank walls.
Thursday, December 25
Well, wishing every blogger and stalker a Merry Christmas and great time with family, friends, or jail bitches.
There'll be more updates for when I am re-released into the Oregon wild.
Till then, have a great time with those around for the holidays!
Friday, December 19
...onto the updates.
So right as I was in the cusp of falling asleep, my dad pops in before he headed out on a job.
"Chicago's had over 300 cancelled flight this morning, by 9:00 [their time]."
I checked fly.faa.gov and flights out of Denver to Chicago were delayed 2+ hours.
So even if I would have gotten a delayed connection Denver to Chicago, I would have gotten screwed in Chicago most likely over night, for a couple days, which equals a irritable, cranky, unbathed Ashley. Not a pretty sight.
And poor Uncle Sneaky who got laid over in Phoenix. Drink up.
And I'm still debating what to do with my day.
As I check in, I'm informed that Denver is delayed 37 minutes. Not because of weather. But because of the crew. Unlike wook, I can't man an aircraft nor do I have any desire. Thinking back right now, I don't know if I want a crew that can't show up on time to pilot my vacation. (Just a thought to try and cheer up the situation).
So as the nice lady at the little kiosk kept typing away, I was met with even better news. I wouldn't make my 45 minute connect in Denver. Without that, no connection to Chicago. No Nashville. In fact, nothing available out of Denver until Sunday morning. "Wait, what?"
That's right. Stand down Ashley. We spent a half an hour trying to think of alternates. "I'll go to Portland, Sac, Frisco, I don't care." She typed away mercelessly. Nothing. Zilch. No life back east to Nashville tomorrow. We did come close to going Medford, Portland, Chicago, Atlanta, but wook really didn't want to diverge that far off the path. So we settled for the original offer. Sunday morning, Medford, Denver, Nashville (takes out one connect, which is awesome).
Disheartening, yes. What anyone can do about it? Nuthin'.
So now I'm left with today and tomorrow to kill. Well since I didn't hardly any sleep tonight, I think that might be my first stop. The rest of the day is up in the air.
Until then people, keep up those good thoughts!
Well the escapade of stacking stuff to pack, then removing what I don't need, while alternating loads between the washer and dryer continued until 11:30. Then I thought, ah crap, I planned on getting up at 3am. After debating whether or not to call it a night while my last load was in the dryer, the automatic light turned off in the front room. Okay. Enough said. I'm going to bed.
That was met with resistance as I'm incredibly nervous/anxious about making my way across the States. Somehow I was sprinkled with fairy dust to knock me out until 2am. Beats zero sleep. So running on 2 and a half hours of charge, I managed to pack up the rest of my stuff. I even keep double and triple checking that I have the tickets just 'cuz panic and hysteria isn't far off from 2.5 hours of sleep.
So as the rest of the world wakes up on their own, fully rested after a comfortable night in bed, think good thoughts. Think that Ashley will order her standard in-flight ginger ale (helps the nerves), pop in the earbuds, and zonk.
Here's to the holidays in the Midwest. Oh ya, and with him. :)
Thursday, December 18
Anyways, my deepest fear this season is not getting delayed. It's having my luggage go to Fargo while my body goes to Nashville. Well to kill those fears, I've executively decided to not check my bag (saves me $15 each way), but to simply downgrade the amount being packed so it can fit in the carry-on size. Now I realize this may strike fear in other females wondering about all the things we need to exist (blow dryer, slippers, lotions, shampoos, conditioners, etc.). Well wook happens to be an awesome enough of a person to have let me keep extra of those at his place in Florida so I didn't have to pack as much when I visited. Everybody now, aaawwwww.
And I do have the reputation of being the Master Packer in the family. Roll it, sinch it, squeeze it. That $#!t will fit! :)
Obviously tonight is the only night I have left to accomplish all my tasks (thanks Mr. Stomach for your cooperation last night), so that'll be it. I may have some evening blogs about what to pack that readers/stalkers are more than welcome to comment on. But that'll be after I get my hair-did at 630. (So it may be kinda late for you East Coast folk).
So as I make it to the airport tomorrow with possessions in stow and enough snacks to feed a Boy Scout troop, I'll be praying to the Weather Gods, the Airport Gods, the Crying Baby at the Back of the Aircraft Gods, and the Big Man Upstairs. I don't pray for zero delays (which would be nice, but let's be reasonable here as even Medford has a snow warning, lol). I pray for a Friday arrival. In one piece. Nerves only slight razzled, only because someone farted at the front of the plane leaving a green aerial film to trench through. With a beaming smile when I see that all-too-familiar charcoal rig pull up. Happy to get the world's biggest hug from the boy I've been dying to see.
So I didn't think it could have been low blood sugar since I just ate food. Ah man, now that I look back...those cheesy grits totally didn't taste like they did/should have. Uh oh. So I hung out with my head on the toilet for a little bit. Distracted myself in the tub, splashing water around like a toddler. I tried some Tums but to not prevail. Took a shot of Pepto but that made me want to barf instead.
And it's not like I knew I was going to throw up. I didn't get that lovely throat-coating slime that comes with impending doom. It was just plain nauseasness. Just lovely. So instead of packing, cleaning and getting my butt in gear from Friday's departure. I laid in bed, speaker phone to wook, "I feel like barfing," overall wonderfulness.
And like anyone who's sick in our family, you get the 'barf bowl' experience. This is the recipient of family up-chucks since the dinosaurs cooled. And we still use it to bake double batches of muffins in. Gross? Nooo...silly. There's washing machines with extra hot water for a reason. Hahahhaaha...
Wednesday, December 17
I need to pack first off. Yes, this should be Goal Numero Uno, and it is, I've just had other things that have been in my way. Like work. But a girl will go crazy if I'm left with just my thoughts the whole day. That's why I have the phones and some accounting. To make my mind go crazy in other varieties.
Oh but first, the excitement during yesterday's lunch. So I went into the dentist for a lil touch-up to the outside of my teeth. So you know how you have enamel on the outside of your teeth? And if that enamel breaks down, and the destruction still occurs...ya got yourself a cavity. Well because the enamel on the teeth was beginning to be dangerously close to the cavity portion, well...it was decided to fix up the very back molars.
So on goes the gas mask.
I remember staring at the light, getting black spots in my vision, getting incredibly warm. I think I'm going to pass out. So I tell the ladies I'm really light headed. They *brzzzz* (that's my noise for when they un-recline you) me back up. Ahhh, vision. Turns out I can't handle the "adult quantity" of gas. Why even have the gas you ask? Ashley + needles = slightly anxious Ashley. And fun stuff...I get to go back again today for the lower half of my very back molars. Yay.
Tonight I have an ongoing list of things to do just because I don't want to have any responsibility tomorrow except get my hair-did. That includes cleaning up the downstairs bathroom, packing most of everything up (except those daily use items), paying my car payment, reading more of Milk, Eggs, Vodka :), and whatever else is on that to-do list of mine.
So as it narrows up on 7:15 in the morning, I should really get my butt outta bed and moving onto getting ready for work. I wish I had the life of leisure, Victorian era mainly. Although there wouldn't be blogging, I'd have nothing better to do than read. And walk my dog Mimsy around my fabulous compound. Life's rough married to a doctor. Big house, wait staff, husband who I don't really like that much but is rich, ups my nobility, and is constantly away. Bring on the corset.
Tuesday, December 16
Here's my voluntary giving away of $4,000.00. Painful. But Future Ashley will enjoy it.
And I realize the cap is 5K. I'm holding out on that last thousand just incase I need the cash flow early next year (I have till April 15th to add. Kinda cool.)
I did have much more to ruminate about this evening, but I've seem to hit a wall in my thought process.
I do know that I don't have to cut off friendship to a certain person since I received her most excellent present in the mail this evening.
Things are coming together for my early morning departure on Friday. While I'm not packed yet, I have the list written up. I texted with an old college roommate this morning (she lives in Chicago, going to grad school), and she informed me it was 10 degrees there, wind chill at -18. Ugh. I will freeze my @$$ off. One reason why I haven't packed is because I'm not sure I want to see if I can fit all the layers into one suitcase. It just seems like a lot to pack when heading into Artic conditions. Am I going to Nashville or B-15? (Quiz. What's B-15? Dos puntos!)
I'm also attempting to train myself in sharing a bed. Now that I have my queen bed back, I've learned to love the sprawl action associated with military separation. Last time wook and I were together, we stayed on our own half. And we were only apart 3 months. (That seems like such child's play now, lol).
And I'm soo looking forward to my surprise in Nashville. I've informed wook that we're getting real pictures taken of us, because after 5 years...it's about time. :) I've posted her blog to the side, but if you're too lazy. Here. Part of my dilemma in packing is choosing a wardrobe that is travel friendly and photog friendly. Now you understand.
Thankfully my week (which work-wise ends on Thursday) ends with a hair appointment. Nothing relaxes a lady more than a salon shampoo (unfortunately I won't be receiving any complimentary scalp treatments. But a cute 'do is all I need). I worked it perfectly where I'll get my cut Thursday evening at like 6pm and be able to work the blowout the next day. Muahahah. Good planner, I am. I won't be getting much sleep anyways as I'll be up at 3am getting myself ready. Why 3am when I don't leave until 445? Hello, a girl likes to lay in bed and blog. :)
And on that note of being in bed and blogging, good night.
Monday, December 15
Number of snow days received growing up in Medford, OR: 2 (once in 8th grade, and again as a Senior).
Anyways, last night took us by storm (haha) as the valley floor got a couple of inches.
Pretty dang cool.
I wasn't about to walk out from the door's lip as I was still in pj's and slippers.
How can someone not like the look of snow? Now I realize that places in the Northern half of the States can sometimes receive more than they can deal with. That's unfortunate. But it still looks cool. :)
This is the view from my dad's office. I took a picture through the window, because I was still half asleep and my hair was still wet from the shower.
Still not a bad view from our house to the Siskiyous. (Those big mountains that are way out).
Obviously this doesn't look like that much after just waking up at 7am. Ya, I was running a little behind in my sleep schedule. What do you expect with Nyquil? No, I'm not sick. But I have the feeling that I could become sick and I want to ward off any bad juju. Anybody know the number to the big black guy off of Major League who can rub my baseball bat and kill a chicken on my health's behalf?
Sunday, December 14
Well last week as I was working my volunteer shift at the Rogue Valley Metaphysical Library, I had to cover the Media Exchange also which is right next door. (Same entity, different principle. The library has a membership and the Exchange is a non-profit free exchange.) Well since there weren't any patrons around to assist, I took to perusing the shelves for myself.
One book turned to two...which turned to four...which turned to the 11 that I brought home.
As you can see the topics vary wildly. The Heirs of the Fisherman is about the manner in which the Vatican goes about choosing the new Pope. There are some history books there, because no one can ever read too much about the past. That and my history skills kinda suck (thus wook's existence). So hopefully the books on Russia, fallen dictators, and global history to 1500 will enlighten me.
And in previous posts, you know that all my literature is in boxes in my storage unit. Sad, but where's a girl to put it? I'm going to have to keep looking for my sugar daddy with his Vodka empire and enough shelving space to house my growing collection.
Besides, since my shoe collection has slowed to crawl (which my dad can't complain about), I don't feel too bad about acquiring more reading material. Shoe fashions come and go. Literature is usually here to stay. Unless burning books comes back into style. But then you'd have people on you for environmental pollution. Or something like that. But I'm not planning on that. So books are here to stay. Yay. And what else do you do in the winter when the weather has turned to the white variety and there's a crackling fire nearby? Put on a pot of water and crack open a book. Ahh...
I like the grey background. A fun change, but not too emo.
How'd I do it? Just a little "Shuffle blog colors." (It was just too hard to try and redo what I had done before. That's an undertaking Future Ashley will just have to worry about).
Oh ya, and I don't know how but somehow my watch didn't keep up with change in months and I've been technically a day behind in my schedule according to my watch. Don't know how. But it happened. But not like I mind having the my world move up 24 hours right now.
Curious? Well it's 5 days and 6 hours till I board my flight outta Medford.
Thanks for asking, haha. :)
*UPDATE* I've changed the background once again. I liked it last night before going to bed. But then wasn't in love with it again this morning. Well Britney Spears and I have a lot in common. Let's annul the union before it's too late. So now it's onto a raspberry color. Until I change my mind again.
Saturday, December 13
Well thanks for some other website for letting me download a Ticker that keeps me updated to the second on when I start my journey back East.
And incase anyone is wondering, it's a little under 6 days until I board my first plane, in a series of 3 aircrafts, next Friday. I can't wait, but I can. I have lots of stuff to do before I jetset across, okay nearly across, the country.
All I can think about is Europe's "It's the final countdown!!"
This weekend marked the official end of my lamentation/despair/depression. This morning I woke up bright and early with one thing on my checklist: Get the rest of the stuff along my wall (i.e. summer camping clothes, summer shoes, etc.), out to my storage unit. Now while some people see a storage unit as a waste of money, I see it as a necessity. There's no way to live with all my stuff in 120sqft. Especially since the unit was packed to the brim. Thankfully that all changed this morning as I rifled through stuff asking myself, When's the last time I used this? And while it's hard to let go of somethings, it's also easy. Cute lil knick-knacks that are only for decorating in college apartments, gone. I've done my Undergrad. I had a blast. Memories galore. But it's time to be a big girl and let go of the wall art I made in high school. Purple and pink. Who's really going to decorate like that in their 20's? Even Punky Brewster let go.
The day was an eventful one. I took equivalent to about 3 trunkloads of stuff to Goodwill and Saint Vincent DePaul, total. It was relieving. I figure the stuff might as well get used by someone and not just sitting around never to be used again. Plus, karma's always a good thing to have. I give, therefore I receive a fabulous trip back east to see that boy. Okay, so the trip was planned before I unearthed my unused possessions, but it's the thought that counts.
Anyways, since I haven't debuted my new room, I'll do the unveiling now.
So without further stalling...
I'm thoroughly impressed my mother actually accomplished this task. (Now I hear you now, Why didn't you put it up yourself if you didn't want the hassle? Because if you delegate and people do wrong, you're allowed to demoralize them. It's my way of a.) getting what I want, b.) and not having to do the work. Muahahah).
So what's next on my list? Packing for back East. I've never been to Nashville or Ohio, in the winter, so I'm packing everything I own including the toilet seat. Okay, maybe not everything I own. But enough to stay under the 50 lbs. limitation. I have a feeling I'm going to be in for more than I bargained for (i.e. White Christmas, new family members to meet, freezing my cha-chas off).
Friday, December 12
Well, adopt a vicarious couple!
Mine is Jim & Pam. Yes, them. I'm an Office junkie (thanks Collin and Katie, I still blame you) who even watches the webisodes and stalks their fansite. What else is a girl to do when that boy of mine is busy hosting a cocktail party?
Anyways, not to get detoured...but I saw this and couldn't think that a.) how awesome, b.) someone actually went to this length, and c.) I can't wait for Andy and Angela's the come out (that is...well after last night...*no spoiler alert*...but seriously, C&K...get with the program!, lol).
So what's a girl to do on a Friday night, with the weekend ahead of her before she flies outta town? Organizing, cleaning, and packing...that's what. I know I haven't blogged regularly in awhile but I've been busy attacking that downstairs bedroom that I now inhabit. The big bed is moved in, closet organizer up, so now I need to continue cleaning out my storage unit until only the important is left. That's what on my weekend plans for tomorrow. Once my camera battery is charged I'll post the new fabulosity in my life.
Here's to progress, a dwindling countdown, and a electric mattress pad...ahhh...heaven.
Thursday, December 11
Incase people need a refresher on D-Day (departure day), I leave Medford at 6am on the 19th. Praise the Lawd! This means that I have to show up at approximately 5:59am to the Rogue Valley International Airport. I joke you not. This is the formal title. Ya, there's one Korean behind the counter, that's how they get away with it. Suuuuper excited to just have progress in getting back east.
And so for your entertainment-slash-slight irrationality on my part. I came up with a theory/concept that you will understand (although one will probably give me the "that's not the same" talk. Haha.)
So ya know how when you're sooo pregnant, and soo close to your due date that you just wanna crap the kid already. I've heard this from multiple sources, so I'm claiming it as truth. Anyways, last night I was about on my last nerve for waiting out the next week that I just wanted it to be next week already. Quit with the funny busines. I'm tired of texting, emailing, calling, harassing, stalking that boy. I just want to be over there already. I'm throwing in the towel. Ding, ding, ding. End of the round. Where's my cookie?
I mean, I have no other understanding of being on this side of the ball. Or, this side of the 2,000 miles. It sucks. And I've been as patient as...well a 2 year old before a nap. Sometimes I go with it, sometimes I revolt. Well, Che, this is a revoluation. (And I have no idea if Che actually assisted in a revolt, I just thought I'd make a history lesson. And I'm way to lazy to Wiki him. So suck it Trebek.)
Okay, enough with the rambling. Tomorrow will be a day of relaxation. At least after work. I've sheduled my birthday facial for tomorrow at 5:45pm. 80 minutes of divine serenity. 80 minutes to turn my mind off and enjoy being a year older, a year more fabulous, and a year where I don't mind resembling a baby giraffe when I run. It resembles heaven in that room. The lights, the music, the angelic touch. Shhhh...ahhhh..........
Make sure Mark gets the memo to not interrupt me please. ;)
Me: "Good evening Mr. McDaniel, is Mrs. Clause there?"
Mark: "Ya, she's in the bath, want me to get her?"
Freeze frame: Mark. She's in the bath. A sanctuary away from children and husband. A place to experience serenity. To unwind after a day of screaming offspring. To recharge the batteries of sanity. A place to not be interrupted.
Me: "No, no, no, no...she's in the bath."
I don't think boys really get the idea of a bath. Besides the fact that you can fart in the water and make a jacuzzi. I sure enjoy the baths I take where I can close my eyes and pretend I don't live with my parents. Where I have my own place, a chic apartment in Greenwich Village. Okay, maybe not New York. I'm definitely a West Coast girl. But you get the idea.
Friday, December 5
Ashley, you silly girl, you've been without a boyfriend for 8 months and you're still alive. You can handle a week and a half without non-stop computer contact.
Besides, I don't know what I would do with myself knowing I spent valuable time blogging about my experiences rather than having more of them. Also, saving blogging until later gives me something to do while I'm in the post-wook depression phase that happens for a week or so. Sometimes more. Just depends. So while I'm not looking forward to lacking connectivity for a week plus. Just think. There's going to be this boy I get to hang out with. Yay me. Too long waiting if you ask me. :)
Tuesday, December 2
Oh, "why?" you ask.
Well here's my compiled "To Do" list before I jet-set on December 19th, 2008 (in no particular order).
- confirm Christmas card list, buy eco-friendly cards at Target, send out cards to awesome peoples
- go to the dentist tomorrow for a cleaning
- shop for family and friends (parents are the only ones done)
- buy wook's family's gift (will definitely be a So. Oregon item)
- tell temp agency of date additions
- tell big boss of date additions
- whiten teeth with Rembrant kit (perfect timing, right after a professional cleaning)
- continue running (don't want to be less than a Marisa Miller look-a-like)
- move bed into downstairs room (it's about that time people)
- transfer possessions to other room/storage unit (new room = minimalism)
- get hair cut and work the blowout for the next couple days (cheating, kinda, hehe)
- make a list and pack!! (don't forget underwear, toothbrush, deoderant!)
- go to yoga (to maintain my sanity...which I'm slowly losing the more I live away from wook)
- tell wook about the Nashville surprise/gift (just don't know how yet...)
- fix upstairs room with made-up beds for kids (aka the sisters)
- laundry (always a good thing)
- charge batteries for camera/mp3 player (gotta have solitary confinement for the plane and documentation of my travels)
- tape tickets to wall so I don't lose them (always a worry)
- shop for more Christmas surprises (muhhaha)
- make sure luggage is under 50 lbs. (I don't want to pay more than the $15 for my first bag, thank you)
- pay car payment...ugh (goodbye money)
- pay off credit card statement...ugh (...and again)
- pay gym dues...ugh (okay, this one I don't mind)
- do toenails (hehe)
- wrap & deliver/mail presents (before I leave, mind you)
- help family make cookies/treats (if there's time)
- ORCA Fire dinner on December 13th (with the family)
- find phone charger! (I have to use my mom's 'cuz I don't know where mine is)
So ya...I'm internally knowing I should become frazzled at any moment. I'm hoping that by making a list, I can ward off any of the internal stress that can ruin my excitement of going back east. We'll see. At least the dentist will be crossed off tomorrow. I guess I could pay my bills now so the money's gone. Ugh. Money...gone. So sad. Oh well. I guess my real focus should be on what to get people. And getting out those Christmas cards. Bring on the handcramp.
Saturday, November 29
Unfortunately I don't have the connector thing to upload some of the entertaining shots of the evening. Those will come tomorrow. I had a run-in with a huge Deschutes Brewery tap, just to let you know.
Friday, November 28
But onto a theme that a familiar face touched on...what really makes me tick.
I'm thankful for text messaging because otherwise I would go crazy. I can't imagine how people dated back in the 1700's, writing letters back and forth between two continents. I can only hold myself together so much. Texting is one of my glues.
I'm thankful for family that will put up with me 'boomeranging' back home. I really don't know what I would have done. Honestly, would have moved into a yurt.
I'm thankful for all the support pillars of Navy life. It's not easy, sometimes it's not fun. But somehow we all got roped in for a reason. These irresistible guys we fell for. And as we bop around the country with different orders, again...thankfully for my thumb being extra inshape. :)
And lastly, I love that boy of mine. I honestly am having a very hard time holding myself together as another day passes. It's been so long. I feel bad when I inundate his phone with "25 days!," "24 days!" texts...but then again, who can blame me? It's not your average relationship where you can handle 7-8 months apart and still think someone's...as Sarah says..."the bee's knees." I've earned my trip. I'm beyond excited. It's all I think about. No really. All I think about.
And in case you were wonder, the countdown is now at 21 days! :)
Wednesday, November 26
Looking on the upside, Hayley will be down this evening from Portland with one of our cousins in tow. Thursday is obviously "gorge yourself on food and watch football all day." I hope I can squeeze in some more of aerobic activity that day. I need to get working out again like every day. The day I see wook is getting closer and I need to bring my 'A game.' So we'll see...
Oh ya, and this weekend marks Civil War. I'm incredibly nervous. I get nervous about all the big games even though I don't exactly suit up with the boys. It should be a great game. Reser will be rockin' (which is fun when you get the upper deck shaking. Insane. I love it!). You'll have to look for me. I'll be in orange. :)
And woohoo, last day working for this week. I love privately owned offices.
Monday, November 24
So last week, after I had nervously chosen which flights will choose my destiny of going cross country...I knew I had to break the news to my mother.
A: "So mom, I'm thinking "blah blah blah" for Hayley's present, but I won't be here for it.
M: "Well when is it?"
A: "The 19th."
M: "Well, where will you be?"
A: "With wook."
M: "Okay, well when do you leave?"
A: "The 19th."
M: "When are you coming back?"
A: "The 30th."
M: "You're going to miss Christmas?!? Who's idea was that??"
A: "Wook and I's."
M: "Since when?"
A: "Definitely last night."
M: "Oh.....(long pause)...I thought I had one more year before I had to deal with this."
What does a girl say? Well, nothing. I'm stoked about seeing wook. And like any little sister, Hayley asks, "So do I not have to get you anything?" Well, I guess not if you don't want anything in return, lol.
Now I know that not having all the kids home for Christmas is strange, a change, not something a parent looks forward to. But it's bound to happen eventually. Besides, who else would you expect to be the first to push the envelope? I hope not the person who married a girl from a suburb of Medford. I mean seriously.
Christmas with wook countdown: 24 days :) (No, not excited, not at all!)
Sunday, November 23
So I found another Navy-involved blog following a girl's love for Target (can totally understand that one), Jim Halpert (*sigh*), and crafts (okay, not quite there yet). Oh ya, and she's trying to plan a wedding in Wisconsin, from Washington (Anacortes to be exact). It's thoroughly entertaining. Now while I don't actually know the girl nor have introduced myself, who says I can't stalk their awesome blog also? Besides, it's public...that means you don't care who reads. :)
So to the fellow ladies I know who have nothing better to do than stalk people's blogs, enjoy!
Saturday, November 22
Anyways, with that being said...I have an update on wook's next 3 months.
I'll start with me. :) So I now have tickets in hand. I'm heading out of Medford, December 19th, at 6am. Bright and early. Sleep deprivation will cause me to nap most of the flights across the country. Medford to Denver, 45 minute layover, Denver to Chicago, 2 hour layover (bound to happen some time), Chicago to Nashville (yay!). I should get in around 6pm, with that handsome wookie picking me up from the airport. (Double yay!).
Now onto wook and his official orders.
- 12 January 2009: Wook reports to VA, Norfolk
- 17-18 January 2009: Wook reports to Maine, Brunswick (for SERE School)
- 1 February 2009: Wook reports back to VA, Norfolk
- 18 February 2009: Wook classes up with VAW-120
And ya know, if I don't have this all down correctly...whatever, lol. I'm a civilian, and I get a mulligan.Wook is super excited he gets a month and a half off of actual responsibility over the holidays. He may have watch, but he's not at all concerned about being assigned that. It'll actually give him something to do.
Wook will be taking house hunting leave probably after the first of the year. Don't quote me on that one though. I do know he wants to actually walk thru apartments before deciding on one. To those locals, *wink wink* who know their way around...he could probably use a good beer at that time. Seeing as he'll be moving without Joe and Andy, I'm sure he'll want to know the good places to eat. Besides Waffle House. :) There was almost a break-up between us if there wasn't a WH in Norfolk. MMMMmm...pecan waffle with warm syrup and a side of bacon. That's life.
Now here's a question: Is there any "good beer" (read: comparable to the fabulosity of the Microbrewery Heaven of Oregon) in Virginia? Sam Adams does not count. Sparkling water is for Europe, lol.
On another note: I am not looking forward to the week that wook will be in the field at SERE. Poor wookie. I mean, I know it's something he has to do. But a week of zero "you're cute" texts? What is the Navy trying to do to me? Okay, okay, teach him to save his ass. That's definitely a top priority because he's got a cute lil butt. Sorry for the possible visual. I happen to think it's adorable. But that's given, right?
And with the moving to Virginia comes reuniting with former Oregonians. :) Yay!
When's my next vacay scheduled?
Wednesday, November 19
He made me book the ticket last night on Priceline.com.
You people know my inability to make my own decisions. I'm like Paula Abdul. I'm on my own path of decisions, no matter where everyone else is. Okay, maybe not that bad...I don't pop sleeping pills, "allegedly," lol. But anyways, it was an awful experience. My idea was to have wook coordinate my whole trip and I just cut him a check for halfsies. NOooooo. His brainchild was to let me squirm and figure out my airfare on my own. Ugh. So not fun. This, people, is why travel agents exist. For retarded Librans like myself. See, I stimulate the economy. Well, them and neuropsychologists, yoga instructors, and bartenders. :)
Anyways, my trauma has continued into the morning as I sent out my good morning text to wook.
"Good morning my future bed buddy for a week and a half."
"Good morning my future bed hogger for a week and a half."
You know what. I'm awesome. I don't need this crap. Okay, well I'll totally put up with it because he's the cheese to my macaroni (lol, sorry had to quote it). It'll have been dang near 8 months the moment I see his cute lil face. Well, actually now thinking about it. I'll probably see an enraged wookie. I mean, we'll be at the airport and all. You know how drivers get worse the more East you are. Airports don't help. I can see it now. Well, actually, I can hear it now. Wook yelling at all the idiots. And that, ladies and gentleman, will be my 'welcome home baby, I've missed you.' Not love and affection, but "move your ass you stupid warlock. Ohhhhhh Myyyyy Gaaawwwwwdddd..."
Countdown has begun: less than one month (fly out date: December 19, 2008 at 6am)
Who's dedicated? This bed hog right here. Two thumbs pointed at myself, because I'm awesome, lol.
Monday, November 17
He found out his future status this morning. It was between he and another boy in the battle between the one jet spot and the one E-2 spot. Luckily, the other guy had slightly better grades and actually wanted the jet spot. Wook wanted the E-2 spot, which worked out perfectly. Yay. I love happy endings.
I, however, about passed out at the news. I couldn't think straight. Someone put my brain in the blender and hit PULSE! Not functioning. Not productive. Not very good. But I am very happy for the boy. He got what he wanted. He gets to get the heck outta Florida. Can't blame him on that one. He'll be able to move out and live on his own, which is what he wanted. And he gets to learn a new city, which is a bonus. And there's Andy. Yay.
And for me when I visit, there's Sarah, and Mark, and Braxton, and KQ, and Meghan, etc. :)
At first, I wasn't really phased. Oh, that's cool. It's about time that thing had a cardiac arrest, lol.
But then it really hit me. All the boys' hard work updating, recruiting, etc. All down the drain.
So for your enjoyment/intriguement, I've found the following news reports regarding the kaboom. Feel free to read them all, lol.
NorthWest Cable News: http://www.nwcn.com/statenews/oregon/stories/NW_111608ORN_frat_house_explosion_SW.1bbc7ffec.html
Gazette Times: http://www.gazettetimes.com/articles/2008/11/16/news/community/1aaa02_frat.txt
The Barometer: http://media.barometer.orst.edu/media/storage/paper854/news/2008/11/17/News/Boiler.Explosion.Destroys.Fraternity.House-3546933.shtml
KEZI News: I think has the video of Trac, my sister. http://kezi.com/page/64178
KPTV News: http://www.kptv.com/news/17997127/detail.html
Fire Geezer: http://firegeezer.com/2008/11/17/oregon-frat-house-ka-boom/
So there's the update. I'm really sad about the house. All wook's artwork gone. The work the boys put in this summer. Toast. (Haha, I guess that's funny since it was the kitchen). So I guess I'll try and be there for the rededication. Since there were so many memories there, glad they can rebuild and make more.
Well today, I'm trying my best to find things to keep me busy while wook awaits his destiny. Okay, maybe it's not that serious of a thought...but who else holds wook's future like they do? Point, Ashley.
He assumed/told me that he's most likely hear before I got up, thus allowing me the ease of waking up this morning and simply checking my phone. Wrong. Apparently they're going to make him wait till 1pm to graduate him. Do they not realize that there is a pacing girlfriend on the west coast who is dying to know? Hello...East coast or West coast means a lot. Will I be visiting him and friends in Virginia? Well I be driving the boy back West after Winging? These are questions with serious vacation plans attached to them. :)
So until then, I guess I'll just get ready for work. Good thing I showered last night, since I've spent most of my morning staring at a phone in anticipation. I really should get my body up and moving. But it's so warm in bed. Plus, I could always use going back to bed. It's been awhile since I've been able to be completely lazy. I kinda miss it. Kinda like college. I realize it's fun while you're there, and you may think you'll enjoy going back to it...but just like college, people move away. And sleeping in alone...not as fun.
I don't know if everyone else is dying like I am. But I'll be sure to pass on the word no matter. I just feel bad for wook. What's he to do besides sit around and stare at his phone? Well he could do that. It wouldn't be long before he gets a message, "Hey, you're cute. I miss you."
Then I'll get the ever-popular, "hush woman." I swear. Someone misses me. :)
Saturday, November 15
Wook and I's is spent 3,000 miles apart. I'm in Corvallis, gearing up for the Beaver game today. Wook's still unaccounted for. I assume he's been intrigued by videogames, a movie, food, or Victoria Secret's supermodels. Can't blame him. He's a boy. And surprisingly, it's really our first anniversary apart. And with nothing we can really do about it, I just look forward to the holiday season when I get to board a plane eastbound. But I still have a little over a month to wait, so I try and not get my hopes up.
I just can't believe it's been 5 years. Honestly, knocks my socks off. Who would have known it could have been so fun? Although there's been some not-so-glorious moments (they usually occur in airports, involving lots of running noses, and red cheeks), there have been some hilarious times. When wook scared me from behind the partial wall in the townhouse our senior year. My mom thought I had gotten stabbed I screamed so loud. Too funny. And let's not forget Chef Boy-ar-wookie's mad kitchen skills. I definitely don't starve when he's in the kitchen. Oh, I miss that boy.
Friday, November 14
Woohoo, API...check! IFS...check! Primary...check! Intermediate...check! Advanced...last to go!
So as I was talking to him, he was getting a Sonic salad to go before making it home to veg out for the rest of the day. I told him he needs to have a drink. At least one. His response was, "I may not be sober tonight." Hey, I don't blame you. In fact, you're cute when you're drunk. Sometimes the texts aren't spelled out perfectly, but I can manage. It's like a game show.
Come Monday, we should hear jets or E-2s. And wook said it's pretty much 50/50. Knowing I have nothing to do with the outcome, I try to sit back and wait. But honestly, I'm dying for Monday to roll around. And that's a first. Sitting through driving up to Corvallis tonight, watching the Beavs play tomorrow, and driving home on Sunday will be done in a subconscious tension. It's nerve wracking not knowing where that boy may go next. The good news: At least he'll be getting outta Florida at the end of flight school. Gracias a mi Dios.
Nothing again the Alabamian panhandle of Florida, but I'm over the "I'm gunna marry my cousin and share teeth with him" culture. Ick. Sorry, but I'm totally flaunting my Northwestern uppity-ness. There's this thing called toothpaste, and dating outside your gene pool, and...I really shouldn't go into it. Not my favorite place to live. Nice to visit. Kinda like prison.
And unfortunately it's narrowing in on the end of my lunch break. Then I'll go back to work and discuss more about The Office and who I'd want on my star mug (fyi, Andy's kills me. That's my vote.). I hope everyone has a good weekend. I know Monday can't roll around soon enough. Or maybe I shouldn't be wanting Monday to roll around. Ignorance is bliss. Screw that. I want to know. What's the number of the CO? :)
With that said, I can't believe how much that crap has rubbed off on me...and I'm not even in the same time zone!
Wook's in his last week of flying for Intermediate, and good golly...could he be any more irritated/under pressure/overall not his usual wookie self? I feel bad as there's nothing I can do, whether I was there or here. He just has to hunker down and get through this week to make things better. Minus getting the day off for Vet's Day, he's been flying really stressful rounds this week in his efforts of getting through this last week. They really weren't kidding, this stuff isn't fun.
But what I don't understand, is how my blood pressure has risen in the past couple days knowing wook has to bring it (*black girl snap). I can't help but feel bad for him. I mean, yes, he chose the Navy. But he didn't choose Air, he wanted SWO. Then he didn't want carrier, he wanted P-3s. So, pretty much, he's gotten everything he didn't want. So on his end of the shtick, it's pretty crappy.
This week is the last week in Intermediate before they graduate him and push him onto his future for the Navy. There's jets and E-2s. So 50/50 as I see it. This is when my stomach ends up in knots. What will he get? Will he even like it? It's hard from the other side of the country to have a serious talk with him about whether he's going to implode from hating life if he gets something he didn't want. And always, my mind races to, "when can I see him again?" There are a few possibilities out there, but like always...I never get to be the one that chooses. But I always keep in mind, who lives there, and what's there to visit?
The journey this year has been a long, interesting one. Earlier on in our separation, his schooling wasn't as intense and so we had more time for each other (webcam sessions, emails, phone calls, etc.). Now, I can barely get a 14 minute conversation out of him before he needs to get back to calculating charts. It sucks for both him and me. I love yacking on the phone. But under these high-stress games, talking to me is the last thing he wants/needs to do. Pity party! Lol, not really. Thankfully he makes up for it by calling me on the weekends during his down time. Like when he and another guy stumbled upon a girl, passed out, in a Port-a-Poddy, at the Floribama. He had to call me to inform me of his findings. Too cute. And he was the DD so he wasn't smashed either. It was just a cute conversation, the one that spurred from the origin of the call...not the actual passed out girl.
So I'm hoping tonight he can thoroughly relax with a glass of Scotch and I can congratulate him on a very grueling week of training. I know I need a drink just to feel for him. Who knows, he may get really bad tonight. He deserves it, lol. I just know my nerves won't really settle until he graduates this phase and I hear what his next moves are. Maybe they'll be opening a base in Oregon. Down south. Near Medford. :)
Sunday, November 9
Seriously, who plans this stuff?
So ya, I jumped into the truck without changing outta the pj's or putting on makeup. Sorry if it scares ya.
What would game day be without some more jello shot action? And these are a completely separate batch than the ones that were made for Halloween. These were delicious. And of course Hayley partook. After all, once you're outta the house...your liver is your own. And I think I know where I get my excitement for jello shots. Just look at my dad. :)
Hayley being too lazy to tie her shoes. She's the youngest of the runts. Just ask her about it, lol.
The smell of bratwurts. The crisping open of beer. The fall of leaves. Ahhh, Oregon State.
My dad sternly listening to the Duck game.
Thankfully the rain held off for most of the night. The most it rained was five minutes in the first half. Awesomeness. Just don't get me started on the refs. I will have choice words for that game.
Bitchin' season ticket seats. We sit when we want. We stand when we want. By far better than the student section. (Meghan, will we see you for the '09 season?)
Benny rockin' out at the halftime show with his Guitar Hero prop. Lame. But still awesome.
Thankfully for my mother, she was able to throw my lil leafy skirt together in about 10 minutes.
So my idea was to be a "woodland nymph." A protector of the forest. Shocking. I do recycle and I believe in thinning projects, not clear cuts. But that's beside the point. Stacey was jailbait. No really, she was a convict. It was awesome. She even had real cuffs. We had to devise ourself a plan if someone were to cuff themselves to her. They'd have to buy our drinks the whole night. And even though no one did cuff themselves to her, we only had to pay for one round each. Pretty impressive young skywalker. $13 the whole night.
Outfit all put together, a lil emo shot with the baby sis who was home for Halloween. She thought Medford was more fun than Portland for Halloween. I guess when you're only 18, ya have a point.
"Excuse me officer, have I escaped? Uh oh, does that mean you have to cuff me again?" ;)
The leaf shoes in all their glory. Unfortunately my hair wasn't really participating like I wanted. Oh well. At least I had leggings to keep my butt warm. And they provided an extra layer of something to keep the wandering hands off the booty. Once. Okay, that's fine. I'll take a vodka tonic. Twice. Shudder. I think I need to shower.
We were busting up at this shot. And I'm sorry for my paleness, but not really. What do people expect with red hair? A Lebanese olive tone? Riiiight. And my mom is the photog. Enough said.
Jello shot #2, or maybe #3. We needed to drink ourselves some courage since we were braving Ashland alone and slightly undressed. We settled right in as we were pretty inshape compared to some other girls who were out and about. Must have been the running regime we started.
We decided to take portraits before the 'you've been drinking' eyes set in.
Oh, I loved my wings. However when it got really crowded I had to hold them together behind my back.
Stacey and "Outback Mark." He works at Outback Steakhouse and bounces the bar we were at. Yay, no cover charge. Cuz I don't pay cover charge. I think it's cheap and retarded. I'd rather go to the seedy bar with good pours that doesn't charge a door fee than hob-knob with the snobs.
I don't know why I wore my watch. Not like I could really tell what time it was anyways. ;)
So the night was spent drinking a round and then taking a walk around the Plaza. It was blocked off to traffic to allow the costumed people to roam the streets. It was downright awesome. I bought Stac and I's first round. A shot each of vodka. She bought our next round. Captain and Coke for her, vodka tonic for me. Rounds 3, 4, 5, etc. were bought by individuals of the gentleman behavior. The first guys were really genuine and just wanting to have a good time. Then it went downhill.
These two 'Top Gun students' proceeded to grab our butts and try and sweet talk us into eventually going home with them, lol. The guy who partnered off with me decided to show me a picture of himself shirtless on his iPhone. "If you like this, you can have it tonight." hahahahahahahahahah. At least we got a few rounds out of them before they got the hint. Mean to use men? No, it wasn't our intentions to have our drinks bought for us. We are working ladies (in classrooms and offices, not corners, lol) and so we have our own money. But I can't say it didn't make the night legen...dary.
We mingled some more after the flight students got too drunk to hold a conversation with. Shocking moment of the night: I was using the lil girls room as a guy was barfing in the stall over. Don't know how he missed the big "LADIES" sign, but he did. Hilarious moment of the night: A girl completely eating it down the stairs to the bathroom. She was probably too drunk to feel the pain. I however was completely aware of her misstep (pun intended, oh yes) and snicked behind my clear drink. Oh, evil nymph.
And as sad as it was not to have Collin there, we held our own and had a great time. And although Ashland wasn't the Bourbon Street experience I heard it to be, it was a pretty damn good time. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat.
Okay so these next pictures showed the awesomeness of some of the attendees.
This guy won our "best costume" award. A Rubix cube! The only thing was he couldn't fit thru the walkway very easily. Some older lady was like, "hey box, how about you move?" The whole bar was like, "He's a Rubix cube!" She didn't get it, lol.
And was it a night without a Meat Wagon? And other news-worthy stories. Captain Jack Sparrow got arrested. Some Trailer Trash girl puked in the bushes. And our driver (my dad) let us stop and get Taco Bell on the way home even though it was narrowing in on 2am. I chowed down on my Double Decker and called it a night. Woke up the next morning feeling awesome. Just the way Halloween should be.
It's kinda nice to just be able to focus in on what I have going on around, what goals I'm getting closer on, etc. Besides, these days help a few days to pass in the ever-testing time of military separation. I'm still not a huge fan of uber months apart, so these trances every couple weeks or so is just what the doctor ordered. Hey, beats alcohol. :)
On this note, my latest goals have included priming the walls of the downstairs bedroom. It used to be Pepto Bismal pink. Unfortunately I'm not kidding. Hayley had the brightest room known to man. Well, minus neon green. After two heavy coats of primer, I was able to disguise its former life. And now I've determined the new color of room. "Hopsack." The door frames, molding, and ceiling has a fresh coat of white so what's left is shlopping on the new color. That, my friends, is where 'night ops' comes to play. My mother is very shy in the color palette and so the only way to get her to deal with it is if I paint the whole room once she's gone to bed. Muhahahah! Indeed.
Our focus this week will be adding the closet organizer. For anyone who knows what Oak Park had in their closet, it's divine...and spoiling. Now I can't live without it. Well I can live, but it's messy. And since my dad will be out of town again this week, it's the only thing to focus on since I can't move my bed outta storage without dad's big arms and his truck. So ya, it's a waiting game unfortunately.
But I have been in a much better mood knowing that progress has been made. My mom is much more receptive to the prod stick if she knows I'll proceed with plans whether she's onboard or not. I wanted this crap done since my birthday. But hopefully things will really be done by Thanksgiving. It better. Once the paint is on and the carpet is cleaned, it's really on me. I'm so close. I can't taste it yet. But I can see it. Moving forward. Mush, mush.
Wednesday, October 29
This is the before shot of the fateful shoes. I had this pair of boots which I planned on wearing. But because I'm still in storage with most of my adult possessions, including some fantastic purses I discovered while trying to find the boots, I called it a loss when I couldn't find them after 10 minutes of looking. Now I know what you're thinking, but you gave up so easily. Yes, I did. Because I'm not all that certain I still own them. I like to think I do. But I do give up items to Goodwill if they've sat around unused for long enough. It's an attempt to break the packrat syndrome in my mother's half of the gene pool.
Phase One completed. I've hot glued about 20 leaves all over the shoe to make it look like I stepped right out of the woods. I think it looks cool. I really don't care what you think. They were going to Goodwill before they found a second home as the crappy shoes I'll destroy for the sake of a Woodland Nymph costume. I seriously hope things come together as they should.
Phase Two completed. They look awesome, by the way. Pure genius. I just hope they don't fall apart too easily. But then again, that's asking a lot for an hour and a half's worth of work.
And tomorrow should mark the completion of the entire ensemble. The skirt's leaves/teardrop shapes have been cut out and pinned around a piece of elastic. Just have to sew the bad boy together. However, the bra still needs to be tackled. But how hard is it to baste some fabric around the exterior of a bra to make it look more like the rest of the costume? Shouldn't be too bad.
And I do need to pound the pavement extra hard, throwing in sit-ups galore to help bring the costume all together. Can we make it, people? Yes!
Monday, October 27
So this weekend, Stacey and I stopped by the local Harry and David to check out the professional pumpkin carver. All I could think about was pumpkin bread, pumpkin muffins, deliciousness. Even though it takes awhile to cook a freakin' pumpkin down to the useful consistency, I've never enjoyed it better than in a lil baby loaf pan. Better than zucchini bread, better than homemade blackberry pie.
And as I was saying about premature Halloween parties. Well I got to go to one Saturday evening and it was a blast. My only disappointment was the fact that most people bought their costumes online. How unoriginal. I mean, somethings you need to buy. Masks. Fishnets. Fake Blood. But the whole costume in a package. Well anyone can buy a costume online. So ya, that's my stance on store/online-bought costumes.
Let's see if you can follow this one. The lady on the right is Tracy's boyfriend's mom. And the only thing they bought were the ears/head cap. The rest was sewn. Pretty awesome. I voted for them for best costume. I mean, they quoted from the movie. How cool is that? Unfortunately they lost to the King and Queen of Hearts. I'd rather have my hands and thread win me 'best costume,' and not hitting the 'add to cart' button.
Let's try another follow. This is Hayley's friend's (April's) dad. He was the hostest with the mostest (which can be said for numerous things). He originated as Dracula. But as you can tell from the progression of the Patron, he eventually morphed into Drunk-ula. Being the kind guest I was, I took the shot of Patron offered to me. Well...to be honest...it didn't blow my skirt up. Instead, it toyed with my gag reflex. Tequila and I have never had a very good relationship. Now I've been told that the better quality tequila is eons beyond the likings of Jose. Well unfortunately for me...all that crap tastes the same. My palette continues to dislike tequila. I prefer to stick to American men, like Jim (in more ways than one).
OMG, It's Mike Myers. Okay, really...it's my dad. In his $9 costume. Pretty sweet. He dried the ketchup on the knife, wore his own coveralls, and put on his work boots. One word: resourceful. He did a very good job of stalking the windows of the party trying to scare people before we actually got to the door. I was entertained at least. And because I didn't want to have my chicaronnes hanging out infront of older guys, I opted to remain fully clothed and went as a runner. All I had to do was wear my dad's Hood to Coast medals. I did spray my running clothes so they wouldn't stench. But then again, it totally would have made my costume authentic.
This week I'll be attempting to put together my costume that I'll be rockin' in Ashland. Hopefully I can get it done in time. I have like 4 days. Ish. We'll see. I do still have to go to the fabric store. All I have are the wings. But I like to believe I work better under pressure. Adds some jest to the competition. It's like my own version of Project Runway. But instead, it's Project Sidewalk. Let's hope I can 'make it work' (get it?).
As the clock neared 5:00pm, or so, the head residential lady in the office started small talking about whether or not I was going to the game that night.
Preface: I live in a semi small city in Oregon. Friday nights are game nights. My parents have had tickets to both schools (North Medford and South Medford) since the 90's (when my brother played. Even though he graduated 10 years ago, they still go 'cuz it their time together), and occasionally I've accompanied them as an adult. And since my dad's been gone on business the past Fridays, I've gone so my mom has someone to go with. This is common knowledge where I work as we all discuss football a great deal before the game and then again on Monday morning.
I told her I hadn't really thought of it since it'd been kinda crazy all week. I just didn't remember that there was a game, nor did I know who was playing. I did plan on going out for a run that evening with Stacey, but that was as far as my brain got. Not my best week.
Out of nowhere, she told me that I should take the tickets to the game. The office tickets. The office skybox tickets. Seriously?
I'm not sure what the technical height of our seats were, but we were on top of the roof. It's a pretty bitchin' stadium. It's one of the top 5 in the state. And you can see the radio staff boxes on the visitors side of the stadium. That's where we were, except the home side is a lot wider. And just a note: the home side is way more bitchin' than the visitors side. That side is weak sauce.
And one of the cool things was that the concession stand cost less than down below where the commoners were, lol. I mean, it makes sense considering the tickets are more expensive being on the top of the roof. But hey, I'm not going to complain about a 50 cent red rope. Mmm, corn syrup and red dye 40. Delicious.
Here's my date. Glad she wasn't afraid of heights. And another great thing about that night was I had a beer with my dinner. That always makes for a good evening. Too bad I had to ruin the happy thoughts with a Saturday morning workout of lifting, step aerobics, hip hop, and yoga. One word: sore. I haven't lifted since high school. I mean I've done 12 oz. bicep curls. But not good ol' fashioned moving barbells. Yowzas. And step aerobics. Where did my rhythm go? Oh, that's right. It's in the ballet classroom. Not emulating Jane Fonda. Eh, not a real loss.
It's short, easy to do in the morning (which is good because I usually waste my mornings on my laptop blogging, Perez Hilton stalking, or good ol' fashioned MSN.com-ing). I've never been this short. It's kinda liberating. My mother was obviously less than thrilled. But I'm not going there. :)
And I've become incredibly lazy in the eye ball stabbing department. I don't think I've worn my contacts since summer. I don't know why really. I think it has partly to do with that I only have one pair left, and I'm hoping to squeeze some out as Christmas present ideas for me from the parents. B.) Glasses are popped on right after waking up. No rummaging around for my trough in the morning for my Cheerios. And C.) I find my new glasses super cute. Slighly emo, slightly naughty librarian, slightly fabulous. :)
Friday, October 24
What I can believe is that this Sunday marks 6 months apart. I still remember the day I left. It was one of the worst days of my life. I didn't think I had that much liquid in reserve to cry that much at breakfast, in the car, at the airport, on the plane, lol. I think I dehydrated myself in a matter of a couple hours. But what I can't help but compare to it, is that it's the same freakin' timespan as a basic deployment, people. Where's my prize? Don't I deserve something? It may not be the typical deployment of a WestPac, and back to Diego, but it's still a long ass time apart. I'll kill someone if wook and I ever have to go more than this 8 months apart. I'm thinking I'll just stage wook's death so we can run away to the French Polynesian islands. Hide out with Captain Ron. :)
All I think about is how I can't wait to board the damn plane, looking as fabulous as I can, hoping to sleep most of the way there, and arrive in time to get the one thing I ask for: a fatty hug. I'm a hugger. Not crappy, side hugs. Full on, Grizzly Adams, I-think-you-just-broke-a-rib hug. I miss my human contact with the silverback gorilla I so adore. There's something about him. His lumbering ol' self. Chef Boy-ar-wookie. The guy who can jump from around the corner, scare the crap outta me, get slapped, and still make me laugh because I can't believe I scare that easy. He's just the coolest person I know. (I know some people may take offense to that statement, but you guys are a close second. Trust me.)
And in my heart I know I'm dying for two weeks with him, but my head says that trying to push through with my career will only allow one week with him. Well, like 9 days to be exact. And as much as I want to throw a tantrum like a 3-year-old and demand two weeks, I have to realize the silver lining. I could have zero weeks with him. And that's something I just can't do.
So as I finalize getting my one, fabulous, can't-wait-for, hope-time-crawls-by week of wookie, I can't not get exited to a.) see my handsome boy, b.) hang out in Nashville over the holidays, c.) see wook's dad and Grandmoose again, and d.) meet wook's half-sister Taylor. It should be a blast. So here's to higher costing airfare around the holidays, holding off on the stereotypical cold weather additional poundage, zero stress equaling zero breakouts, and a bottle of Dramamine incase the ride gets bumpy. Prost.
Thursday, October 23
I got home from work today and had some time to kill before my nail appointment, so I figured I'd pour myself a heaping bowl of Cheerios. Mmmmm, delicious. Well as I put the milk back into fridge after filling my bowl up the proper amount, I went to the silverware drawer....and stared a tray that lacked both big spoons and lil spoons. Seriously, what twisted alternate universe doesn't have any spoons when my cereal is ready to be eaten? So in midst of knowing my Cheerios were getting soggified, I reached for the most similarly shaped item: a serving spoon. Although slightly bigger than normal, I was still able to fit my mouth over it. Impressed? Slightly. Disgusted? About the same.
I don't know how, but somehow my left ear has developed a couple of soap zits (I don't know what else to call them. Soap has built up in the inner part of my ear [not the canal, but the foldy part], and has become a fun lil game of, "oww, that'd tender, what the heck?"). So thankfully my mom's a chimp and enjoys picking at people/things. But seriously. How does soap get in there? I hate the feeling of any liquid in my ears. I think that's why I don't like swimming. My ears are for hearing, tucking my hair behind, and tuning out my mother. Not for soap to build up in.
Another key rant that I've always had a passion for is: old people + driving. There should be some sort of testing beyond a certain age to make sure that Gramps over there won't go 10 under the bloody speed limit and I don't lose my mind/voice while I scream at his stupid land yacht. There's nothing worse than stupidity behind the wheel. At least he wasn't Asian.
So I know that some people believe reading into the stars and astrology is slighlty cooky. I can agree, except for when things are really spelled out and it makes oooo-so-much sense about why I am the way I am. Anyways, I read a couple weeks ago that during October I had this huge project that just had to be done by the 29th. Well that huge project is getting my queen bed out of storage and having a room to call my own (of things that are my own). So far I've been sleeping in a full sized bed, which granted is better than a twin, but it still lacks the length in bedding needed for my feet not to hang off. My determination has progressed tenfold since this weekend when I kicked over a stinking table that was at the foot of my bed. Well my mom says I should have been sleeping diagonal. I was.
Hopefully tomorrow gets better. The Office will be on, so at least I have that to look forward to. And I might get to chat with wook a bit. That'll be nice. All I have to tell myself is that it's almost Friday.
Wednesday, October 22
Now while those are both acceptable pairs of underwear, the fact that a red thong can be seen through some fabrics and a lacy booty short causes VPL (visible panty line)...I'll need to break down and spend some time domesticated in front of the washer and dryer. Ugh.
I never minded laundry before. But that was before I was working full-time and busting my hump in the 5-6 times a week exercise schedule. Now all I want to do is eat dinner, watch The Office, and sleep my beautiful 8-9 hours a night. That's it. (Okay, every now and again I do get to chat with wook whether via texting or actually his voice on the other end. But since this round of flight school has been a lot tougher than normal. I haven't really gotten to chat with him since Saturday. Or maybe it was Friday. Either way. He's super busy so that leaves me to work out and sleep. Mmmm, sleep.)
But good thing today is Wednesday. My running cohort doesn't get back into town until 9pm, which allows me ample time to put on my 1950's apron and wash some clothes. Oh the joy.
Although I still am tempted to just go out and buy some new underwear to get me through the rest of the week. Lazy? Yes. I can't remember the last time I did laundry. When it's just me, there's not much depending on whether I got the school uniform washed or the business attire picked up from the dry cleaner. Because Target is just a couple miles down the road. :)