Thursday, August 28
I realize I should have a book started that can entertain me. I don't have one at this time. I have to feel the need or be called to a book. It's just something that I've acquired as former English major who was forced to read...well...sometimes less than quality works. I've come now to desire energy in life in order to better assist in making choices. And unfortunately I haven't been called to any books at the metaphysical library lately. I did find books on blood type health that were highly intriguing. Definitely made me think a little.
I think that I'll head to Target or Fred Meyer to look for a wine box to put the wedding gift in for this weekend's wedding. Marilyn is joining the ranks of a Marine wife this weekend, and it should be a fabulous event. I expect full uniform, sword arch, and array of alcohol. I mean, what would a Marine wedding be dry? Unheard of, that's what.
And as usual, I'm not packed for this weekend...yet. I should get on that. In fact, that might be my motivation to do that now and not go out looking for the wine box. After all, it's creeping up on my bedtime. I swear, I'm 65 sometimes. I love going to bed at like 9pm. Cuz then I get a happy 9 hours of sleep and feel like a million bucks. Now I realize some readers have kids, some have deploying husbands, some have homework, and some have...well...nothing to entertain them...except for a damn blog.
Oh, how sad. I swear. Now's the time to drink. But I won't. Okay, off the couch to clean and pack.
Corvallis, here I come tomorrow. Yay!
Wednesday, August 27
This is a day I never thought I'd see in my lifetime.
I was utterly in shock and had to check it out for myself.
Ya know how The Office's Creed has CreedThoughts...www.creedthoughts.gov.www/creedthoughts.
Well, I give you...http://wookthoughts.blogspot.com/
I about died at work, complete with near hyperventilation and one of the guys asking if I was okay. Hysterical!
I'm not sure how much upkeep he'll actually have with it. But I assume that there might be some fairly entertaining posts. After all, it's wook. :)
Man, now tell me how I can't adore that boy.
So once I got to the dock, I grabbed my gear and hit the boat. Thankfully our dock boy, Riley, was nice enough to not leave my behind because I was behind his schedule of, "Boat leaves at 6:30," lol. And the amazing thing was about 45 minutes after we got out on the lake, I landed a fish on! Even though we didn't have a net, a killing tool, or a cooler, we still managed to keep it. Oh, "how?" you ask. By grabbing it (well, actually Riley grabbed it). He then thwacked the hell out of it with a bug spray can. Slightly nauseating, but glad my bug spray came in handy more ways than one. So once we put it into the fishy coma (without reverse drowning it, lol), I had a commemorative picture taken...on a cell phone. I think the only reason I caught it was because we didn't have a camera. The other trips were jinxed because I brought my camera then.
The beauty and serenity of the lake at 6:30 am. I just love Oregon, and the trees, and the water. I mean, half the fun of fishing is just sitting there. It's a nice way to enjoy and become one with nature. And I've definitely become one with nature for everyone else who isn't living in Oregon. Hey, I gotta look after my own!
If kickin' it in a boat, with PowerBait on the hook, and a good friend doesn't make life fabulous...I don't know what is. Thankfully it wasn't as cold as I expected it to be. Eitherway, I still wrapped my lower half with a shotty electric blanket. And even though there weren't any solid bites, it still was a successful trip in my book.
And if Stacey can't make the day any better, her "napping" in the boat at least makes me giggle. And just to set the record straight, she didn't actually nap. And this was far after the fishing occured. It was just a hilarious shot, her all cocoon-ed up on the life vests. Oh Stacey, you make me giggle (and you make my meat tough. Ya, that's what she said).
The whole weekend was an absolute blast. We went biking (kind of, lol), jet skiing (oh my crotch!), and drinking (oh my liver!). The dock boys were a riot. Who can't love good ol' fashion country boys? The sleeping was great, as I love my -15 degree mummy bag. The s'mores were awesome, both at night and for breakfast. I definitely could get used to living up there. Oh wait, did I not tell you? Lol, I was offered the chance to work up there next year. Crazy! I could get used to living there. Oh wait, I've done that before. It's called a fire crew. And I could definitely do that again.
And the best part was staying Sunday afternoon and evening, and waking up early Monday morning at 5:00am to come home. I definitely loved staying the extra night, even if the wake-up call was a bit earlier. The funny part was going to work with my car still full of my gear. Ya, I didn't wanna give up my weekend to work. It definitely screams that I love my weekends. :)
So snaked through the Rogue Valley via email, we got an invite to attend a German restaurant that was going to be featured on the Travel Channel. Yes, the Travel Channel. Like the one that hosts Samantha Brown! Nuts. Oh wait, the catch. This restaurant wasn't actually opened yet, and the email was requesting people to come make the restaurant look like it was actually a functioning location. Sneaky, sneaky.
So like any Samantha Brown stalker, I went. :)
Unfortunately she wasn't there. It was really cool watching them film this lil blonde dude walk around like he owns the place. Now I know how people feel when Giada DeLaurentiis, Rachel Ray, and Alton Brown come terrorize their city. (Okay, so I wouldn't care if Giada or Alton came into town. Rachel...umm, I'll pass.)
The only bad thing was that the beer wasn't Paulaner, the glasses weren't litres, and there weren't any hot German soccer players. Oh well, I can't win them all. But the food was really good. Yes, Kerby, I actually ate the bratwurst that was for dinner. It wasn't too bad. It was actually far better than the currywurst in Berlin. Far better. But then again, cat food is probably better than currywurst, lol.
The kicker was the 3 boys in their lederhosen. So cute. It kinda makes me wanna be German. Oh wait, naaaaah. Redheads are waaaay cooler. Why you ask? Cuz we're pale, we can play connect the dots with our freckles, and we're a dying breed. What else could ya ask for? :)
At the restaurant, Roadhouse Grill, or "RoadKill Grill," where they put a coffee filter on your head and give ya some free ice cream. They did sing a gay lil tune, but nothing like Red Robin. And as usual, a photo op from Tracy. :)
Tuesday, August 26
I had one a couple months ago that was awwwwful. I mean, not only the stereotypical nauseasness (sp?), aversion to bright lights and loud noises. When I went to lay down, I got the spins. Like the drunk spins. But these were far worse. At least when you're trashed on the bathroom floor with the spins, the alcohol will be kind enough to pass your ass out, lol.
I had to attempt to sleep in the 'curled up in the corner' position.
My second mommy, Sarah, told me to hop in the shower and down a Coke/Pepsi. Holy crap. That worked. Amazing. Although calling her when I'm about ready to cry 'cuz it sucks so much wasn't my smartest move. I should have done it earlier. The maybe I wouldn't have been forced to smell the inside of a toilet. (I swear, you can clean a toilet bowl daily, but it'll still smell like rotten feet).
So at least this one wasn't that bad. I did hop into the tub and choke down a Diet Pepsi (no, no rum). Oh ya, and managed to fall asleep...in the tub. And we've been able to figure out that the barometric pressure induces my migraines. Oh boy. So if this crap continues by living in the 'banana belt' of Medford, I'm going to either look for some knock-out drugs or have to move. Me no likey. So hopefully there won't be any issue today as the storm has passed and left blue skies. But we'll see.
I only got one migraine in Corvallis during my entire college career (a huge storm came in), and one in Florida while I was there for a couple months last fall (again, a freakin' tornado hit the town). I can deal with phenomena like that. But a lil rain storm that barrels into Medford and knocks me on my ass...might have to reconsider the living arrangement.
Come on November 16th.
But first I have to cheer on the Beavs, turn 25 (yikes!), and hike Mt. McLoughlin.
Good thing the Beavs take on Stanford this Thursday. Be sure to wear orange!
Thursday, August 21
a.) I stayed up until 11:00pm PST to watch May and Walsh take home gold...again. It was a great match. China was a good team. But when the heat was cooking on the US side of the court, China fell apart. Nice work ladies.
So as you guessed, there's going to be some coffee drinking today. :)
b.) I'm not sure, co-commentator, you may have assist me, but as far as I know, there's nothing that I'm dying to watch tonight on the Olympic circuit. Shocking, yes. But I do need my sleep. It's been too long. So don't be surprised if I'm out by like 8:30. :)
Which moves me along to #3. ;)
c.) I'm headed back out to Lake of the Woods this weekend, along with my trusted mountain bike (and helmet, of course. If I remember to bring it, lol). So don't be offended when you don't hear from me for some days. I've either not returned yet, or ran away with a Sasquatch of a different color. (Translation: I'm losing it. Where's my coffee?)
So there you have it. Bloggeratzis, I'll post my adventures from this weekend as soon as I regain my missing sanity from going to bed at midnight last night. I swear, I'm getting to old for this.
Wednesday, August 20
As customary, each morning I text "good morning handsome" to that cute man of mine. It's usually returned with a "good morning," because a.) men aren't huge talkers, b.) wook's probably busy, and c.) I haven't harassed him with more texts that contain lots of questions so he has to respond to me, lol.
Anyways, to get to the good stuff and the explanation of why wook's gone slightly MIA, he's been flying since Monday (even twice a day). Intense. Obviously prepping for a flight takes time, I can't imagine prepping for two. Plus, he's got a text-happy girlfriend who needs attention too (as much attention as 3,000 miles apart can get). And also, he needs sleep. Face it. Wookie without sleep = grumpy wookie. Grumpy wookie + pot of coffee = Awake, but grumpy wookie. (I think you get it now, lol. Hi baby! *muah*)
So now as the clock hits 8:00am, I know I have to get things together to bounce out the door to work.
And thanks again Olympics, it'll probably be a 2-cup day. Ugh.
(Hey handsome, webcam session Wednesday evening? Would love to see you, even if it's 2-D.)
They think otherwise.
It was last night that I was cozied up in my pj's, just waiting for the Men's 200M qualifying round to finish before I crawled into bed. But noooo...the darn pop-up in the corner announcing that May and Walsh were coming up in 29 minutes. Ugh. Although I love beach volleyball, I do love my sleep.
So what did I do? I stayed up, because May and Walsh need me, lol.
I definitely paid for it. I had to have 2 cups of coffee today to combat the sleep deprivation that May and Walsh bring to me. Oi ve.
And so as I was looking forward to crawling into bed this evening, that darn pop-up happened again.
"Usain Bolt in 19 minutes."
For those who don't know, he's the insanely fast guy who took the Men's 100M by storm...by practically jogging. He's my latest favorite.
So again, I sit here waiting to see him take this next round by storm.
So until I can crawl into bed at a reasonable hour, here's to the Olympics.
Go May and Walsh!
Thursday, August 14
Although it wasn't what I had in mind, it's even better than I imagined. Take Rachel Green, Season 7, mix it with a lil Tiffani Amber Theisen, post Saved by the Bell, and throw in some contemporary-ness....and voila! New 'do for Rashley (that was for you, Kerb, lol).
This is my ' I miss my handsome, let's move through flight school quicker' face.
So overall, quite a good experience. The hair stylist, Sarah Neff, did another great job. She does so well with my retarded descriptions and comes out on top. Yay!
Wednesday, August 13
I've been called many things for braving the notion of returning home to the nest. Smart. A Saint. (I tend to only like to remember the good, lol). And amongst the delicious breakfasts my dad makes (thanks for the malt-o-meal this morning!), the free laundromat (I do wash my own clothes, thanks), and rent-free environment, there are some things that continue to linger.
So here are the top things I hear from my mother:
1.) You need to watch it; we have alcoholism in the family.
Fact: No one's ever had "alcoholism." An uncle drowned his sorrows away after a divorce (can you blame him?), and we all partake in tail-gating. And while substance abuse is something to watch for in regards to your health. I doubt my twice-weekly one-a-night gin and tonics are going to throw me into AA anytime soon. Besides as my dad says, "Rehab is for quitters."
And besides, it's the single most-efficient release of cares since living with your parents can breed a multitude of emotions. If I weren't to have the as-needed nightcap to settle myself, I would be mad. I'd be long past going mad. There's only so much life to be had without a drink to take the edge off. And ya know what, they taste dang good.
2. Just leave it [your hair] alone.
Oh boy. My favorite discussion. If this were 1971, I would totally sport hotpants, knee-high athletic socks, and long hair to my back while chasing down freshman girls to initiate with ketchup and mustard. (Get it? Name that movie for 2 points!) But seeing as I'm now a young professional trying to make my way into the world of paychecks and steady work, I've got to pull things together.
Earlier in the year, I came home with a shorter 'do (like to my collar bone) which ended up taking off a few inches. NBD (No Big Deal). Oi ve. I forgot my mom's stance on anyone getting a hair cut. "You should grow it out." And so with one person's quick brilliance (*ahem* mine), I countered with, "Well, when you do, I will." Muhahahahahaahhaahhahahahahaah
So as I prepare for the shears this evening, I contemplate bringing my hair home in a cap. As much fun as it is to show off a fabulous new 'do, it's equally retarded to have it berated to death. So as you can tell haircuts are moot points.
3.) How do you know that you don't like them [a french manicure] if you don't try it?"
Ugh. I don't know how many times I've told her I don't like french manicures. A bazillion probably. Nothing against the French (I do love french toast, lol), but the overpopulation of the french manicure is what does me in. All I can think about are people who spend their money on Shaniqua-length tips rather than feeding the 10 kids they have back at home. Yes, sleezy. But that's essentially my wrap on the two-tone look.
I prefer shorter, it's called "active length" (which makes it sound better than 'bleedy stubs of death'), nails so I can function normally. I do enjoying buttoning my pants in a timely fashion as opposed to the delicate approach required with the Shaniqua-length ones. And I do enjoy my eyeballs have all their layers which is good since short nails don't remove beneficial layers to my vision.
I know this one will be drawn out because she just sees them as tre chic. I'm not really into tre chic, I'm into Stacey London fabulous. :) And I did branch out recently, which is a move in the nail department. I usually get ballet pink, which is a safe conservative color. But that all went out the window as I tried on, essentially, Barbie pink. A huge offshoot from the norm, but so far, so good. We'll see. I love my safety harness. It's secure. But sometimes (or is it "some times," lol), I need to go out of my comfort zone. Looks like I'll be there for awhile.
No, I'm not getting married. Oregon doesn't allow same-sex marriage yet.
But I do have a hair-did appointment for tomorrow. *Gulp*
Now I realize it's just hair. It grows back. But I've been psychin' myself up for this haircut for the past week. I just don't know if I have the balls to do it: cut it off. Nooo, not some lesbi pixie cut. (I'll wait until after gay marriage is allowed). But a nice chin chop. (Please don't get me wrong and assuming I'm jumping on another bandwagon of the "Posh," "Suri," or "Rihanna.")
All I want is a cute haircut that can make my anorexic hairstands not look like they've gone 10 rounds of chemo. (Read: thin hair, zilch oomph, absolutely no curl, rivals that of what your grandmother has, okay, probably even less than that).
So I will get my haircut tomorrow, after all it's time to rid the developing split ends. I just hope that I can verbalize that what I don't want is some razor cut, red carpet 'do. I'm lazy, lesbian, and...lazy. My idea of a good hairstyle is it dries in 10 minutes with a blow dry, and I can pop it up into velcros for 15 before I rush out the door to get my coffee fix at work. Oh ya, and it can be tied back somehow for lesbian adventures and yoga (which are practically the same thing, but I'll continue to define them as different activities).
And damn, I could use a good shampoo by now. (Don't talk, just scrub my scalp. We'll talk later). I equate it to shoe shopping, winning the lottery, flying in for your friend's birthday. Pretty darn good. :)
Now I'm not talking "orange mocha frappechino." I'm talking the pre-ground-Folgers-can coffee, straight outta the drip system. The epitome of the breakroom.
Collin admits to partaking in a few cups during times of intense overtime. When coming in early and leaving late leaves one, well, pooped. It's only understandable that a liquid pick-me-up is a necessity.
I, however, have pretty much converted.
In the past, I used to be a "12 ounce chai, extra hot, no foam" kind-of-girl. Back in the days of intellectual discussion of literary theories, malevolent English professors, and 'who's dating who now?' It was the chicest thing next to my pashminas from Ross and $27 dollar textbook bill. But since the slight deterioration of the economy, I've opted to nix drive-thru coffee stand behavior to better fuel my need for brown mascara, shoes, and manicures. :)
Unfortunately now I'm a "get into the office, drop off the purse at my desk, unlock the back door, start the coffee drip" kind-of-girl. I check my voicemail, smell the aroma, and go immediately back for my cup. And when I say "my" cup, I mean the cup I've adopted as the cleanest, cutest, girliest cup there is: 90's floral.
I now can't function without a cup of coffee (that's been heavily doctored by hot chocolate powder) each morning. It's equivalent to Andy Mew not having a drink poured by 4:46 (that's his official 5:00). But a.) it's free, b.) a cup of coffee a day has medicinal benefits, and c.) I now need it to wake up as I go to bed later since wook goes to bed later, which causes me to get less sleep. (After all my effort in college to get him to go to bed earlier, it still hasn't worked and now I'm the one effected. And I'm 3,000 miles away! Somethings I just don't get.)
So as much as I miss saying, "I don't do coffee," I'm now realizing my true potential as a stuck-up Pacific Northwesterner. There's just something about the clean air, actual mountains, and unneed for umbrellas that make us badasses.
So I'm embracing the coffee movement. *hug*
Monday, August 11
Me: "Like 99.99% of gymnasts are sluts."
Chris Gerritz: "Ya, I met that .01%. She didn't put out."
Friday, August 8
This is not an invitation to a pity party. I just get so wrapped up with being busy that I forget to let everyone know the fun I'm having. I love getting out in Oregon because it's one of my favorite things ever. I'm even planning on going back to Lake of the Woods again in a couple weeks. My August weekends were literally booked before the month even began. I love that I can't sit still. Hopefully this'll make time move, while still being thoroughly entertaining, and November 16th can't come soon enough.
While I did sign up for the Navy lifestyle, I thought it'd be a lil different. I wasn't expecting flight school. I wasn't expecting 7+ month separations. But as wook says, "Semper Gumby." Always flexible. And he's the King of Going with the Flow in Life, so I've gotten plenty of practice.
And good thing I'm still stuck in the "damn, he looks good in uniform" phase so I'll get over it soon enough, lol. Besides, we both need someone to spend our money on, so why not each other.
So my plans are to fly back in November for a week. I figured our anniversary was a good enough reason. As wook says, "our relationship is starting kindergarten."
I love that boy.
Muahhahaa, you thought you were clever? Never! (Spoken in a French accent it goes, "Thot you wur cleva? Neva!)
So ya, that's that.
I blame the Slurpee.
So what happens when you put two girls in the bar for a couple rounds and then send them back to their campsite to put up the tent in the dark? Well, this. :)
I will counter by saying that this was a borrowed tent, so we had zero idea how to put it up. But we decided to sit by the fire till the "happiness" wore off and we could get things put together properly. I'm a complete advocate of having a nightcap while camping. Booze = assumed bodily warmth = easy to slip into sleep.
This is my favorite shot of the lake. I'm not saying I'm a photographer at all. I just think that it encorporates everything that makes Oregon gorgeous. The trees, the mountains, the movement of the lake. Beauty. Feel free to drool. :)
This is another lagoon-type body of water that was an off-shoot of the lake. Just thought it looked cool from ground level. That ground cover was dabbled all over which just made the forest look really lush.
And finally what would a camping adventure be without a run-in with nature:
This is me as Jane Goodall of the Chipmunks.
Apparently this lil guy is a friendly pet of the resort owners/managers (my friend's Aunt and Uncle, whom let us camp out in their psuedo front yard. Thank you!). As you can tell he wasn't shy about running up to you asking, "What's up, got more peanuts?"
And I'm not really sorry if you're offended by my Beaver sweatshirt, cap, and ponytail. I'm camping. I haven't showered in 2+ days. I'm not there to pick up guys, just chipmunks, lol.
But the first thing I did when I got home was shower.