Monday, January 31

we need an impulse buy this week.

No, no, no, no, no, not us.  We're quite content with our family's size.

Just to make my parents feel even better, I'm trying to throw a snowball effect into the mix.  I'm all for it.  Getting a pet is a great decision.  Getting a cat while in school?  Even better.  Not as much work as a dog, but still a gazillion kisses of affection. And Sister, they do make eco-conscious kitty litter.  Because I know that's on your mind.

People, let's get behind this!  Let's pressure the parents into saying yes!

The more comments, the better!!!!!

Baby Sister, if the parents bitch out on you...I'm here.  Just get the cat, and I'll send a check.  Just think of it as a "Happy early 21st Birthday, bitch!"  Then pretend I'll drag your ass around the floor ala Khloe Kardashian.  After all, I'm the gigantor female in the family.

Sunday, January 30

what $21.60 will get you.

It's no surprise to those who know where we live (just-North-of-Malibu, California) that the alternate name of the area should be Farm City, California.  You don't go a mile without seeing fields and fields of farmland.  And the bodies hunched over picking said farmland.

There is one CSA in the area (CSA stands for community-supported agriculture) in which you buy a 'share' of a local farm and enjoy weekly boxes of fresh produce.  This is a way to give back to the local economy and fill your belly with scrum-dili-umtious eats when you prefer to go straight to the food supplier.  Mommy McD does this.  She loves it.  Hippies unite!

Well...I've heard reviews of the California Harvest Local Delivery.

Like a CSA, but better!  Just read...

They give you a list of in-season produce, you select what you're willing to receive, they pick the best available options, and they BRING IT TO YOUR HOUSE.  No driving somewhere to collect your bounty.  It comes to you.  Between the hours of 1-4pm on Saturdays.

And because of our allergies to avocados, bananas, cantaloupe, and onions mangos, we can avoid receiving any items we can't eat or choose not to eat.  Plus, it's literally picked the morning it's delivered.  Can nutrients get more fresh??

I've been wanting to try this service since we moved here.  And knowing that we run to the store twice a week for food (read: produce), we decided that maybe cutting out the middle man (Vons) will make for better food and a better deal.

We eat a lot of salads.  We eat a lot of vegetables.  Some people fail to add one vegetable to their dinner.  We're those freaks that add 2.  And yes, we believe in some 'conventional' foods too.  Vons make killer take-home pizzas.  Then...we just add zucchini (for me), tomatoes (for him), mushrooms, and olives.  Then *bam* - good shit!

And spending $80+ on produce is already in our monthly food budget.  I believe in spending money on good food since it's the fuel for the body.  The body won't run well on doughnuts, Spaghetti-Os, and Ramen.  Nor will the body run on carrot sticks and water.  It's all about balance, people!

So my thought is why not divert the funds to a farm source?  Vons will still be there for almond milk, half 'n half, and eggs.  And Costco will be there for (ahem) Cheerios, meat products, and (ahem) alcohol.

So, yes please!

Yesterday's bounty involved this plentiful spread of VITamins and mineRALS.  Yes, quoting Bear Grylls does increase your smartness.  This cost the Wookie & Co. household $21.60 total.  And I didn't tip the delivery person/owner - and I didn't know if I was supposed to.  Since this is a delivery service, I assumed that the total cost covered it all.  But look at the spread!  No skimping here.

And speaking of fresh off the farms, can you spot the ladybugs?

We chose the "Individual" size versus "Medium" or "Large" - I did double-check that this would suffice 2 adults (one being Navy, and not always home for dinner/days).  This includes 4 different varieties of fruit, at a minimum of a 1/2 pound each.  And it also includes 7 varieties of vegetable, at 1/2 pound each as well.

The produce delivery business is the brainchild of 2 sisters who are trying to bring the fresh farm foods to the table at low costs for those who are too busy (or lazy like moi!) for the Farmer's Markets.  Because do you really know where the food comes from in Vons, or Safeway, or Whole Paycheck Foods unless it says "Local?"  High five if your local grocery store does supply right-from-the-farms.  I'm jealous.

And the strawberries = amazing!  We made strawberry shortcakes last night for dessert.  I may have died, gone to Heaven, and asked God for wifi so I could finish this post.

Like my melons?

No, really, the orange is grapefruit-huge.  The 'cara cara' is beach ball-sized!

And I did ask if there was a way to add eggs onto my order, but sadly their license doesn't allow the transport of eggs.  "Yet," I say.  I'm hoping that'll eventually happen.  Because if you've ever had farm-fresh eggs, you know what I'm talking about.  They may cure cancer.  If not, they at least taste delicious with mimosas.

Umm, the empty Bombay bottle is merely serving as a point of reference to the size of the celery stalk.  Oi, that's a lot of fiber.  And a lot of peanut butter I'm going to go through.  And I do we need to restock the gin supplies.  It's on the grocery list.  Right below eggs.  Because somethings in life are important to us besides fresh produce, and that's breakfast....and beverages.

And the best thing I love about my state?  The trees.

Curious about this awesome cutting board??  I would be too if I didn't have my very own Oregon cutting board.  Middle Sister and Baby Sister were bodacious-awesome-licious during Christmas - and this was my gift from them.  They found it on Etsy.  There isn't a day I don't light incense around it and pray for my state.  It's awesome.  Like Ghandi.  But with mountains, trees, and my family.

So far, we're liking this service.  The strawberries were food-gasmic.  The butternut squash will most likely be dinner this evening.  The only thing we're worried about is going through the celery.  It seems like a lot.  Hello 'ants on a log!'

And the delivery service includes a Welcome Binder, directions at how to store each food to reduce spoilage, recipes for foods you received, and a 'frequent-buyer punch card.'  10 weeks of delivery = 1 week free!

All aboard!  The healthy eating, hippie train is leaving the station!

Saturday, January 29

let me just lay back down

I didn't hear the dog whimper at the bedroom door that she needed to go out to use the bathroom.

But I did hear what I thought to be the assembling of coffee in the coffee pot for consumption.  So I waited a few minutes before getting up, that way there was enough for my cup.  I woke up.  Put on the already-covered-in-dog-hair pants (vs. keeping on the yet-to-be-maimed pants), the gross slippers (vs. the nice slippers I got for Christmas), and went out to great the Houseman, the Canine, and My Happy Sauce.

"You're supposed to be in bed."

What's this???  Am I being made BREAKFAST?  You're making me breakfast?  You're making me BISCUITS???, I love you.  Have I told you, I love you?

Let me just snap a picture to brag, then I'm back to bed for some reading.

Then 5 minutes after I crawl into bed with a billion pillows behind my head to keep from nodding off again, the Man brings me coffee.  In my FBI mug.  Love.

It's not our anniversary.  It's not that contrived Valentine's Day.  It's not my birthday.  It's just a random weekend that I'm loving because I'm getting pampered.  Who wouldn't love this?

Friday, January 28

9 things I didn't want to do today.

1.) Clean the kitchen.

The kitchen had a slight dusting of cinnamon and sugar thanks to yesterday's breakfast.  Now before you judge, realize sometimes it's either taking the pooch for a morning walk before I leave in the morning or cleaning up my breakfast mess.  The dog wins.

2.) Emptying the sky-high amount of dishes.

I didn't mind doing the dishes.  But sometimes you're just not in the mood to roll up your sleeves and touch a billion coffee mugs.  And the sponge is just orange from washing the pot from dinner last night - we had roasted red pepper and tomato soup.

3.) Leave the take out our recycling.

I didn't want to take out the recycling.  Because that's about what we produce a week.  The shoes are the guilty victims of dog walks, the laptop case is in the middle of a mid-life crisis because it's only used during travel, the box is 25" snowshoes (to exchange the 21" snowshoes I got at Christmas), and the wine is self-explanatory.

4.) Unearth the Headquarters.

I straightened up the Wookie & Co. workspace.  Yes, it's clean now.  Yes, this is clean.  No, you can't comment on my workspace.  You can shove it.  In the nicest way possible.  Thanks.  This is like the last space to get attention via until it's better, you can bet your monthly vodka tonic supply that I peruse Apartment Therapy when I can.

[Blogger is apparently copin' a 'tude with all that above space.  I apologize for this.  Dear Blogger, in the words of Mr. Wookie's infamous beliefs, "Fix your shit."  Thanks, this formerly moody, but now getting-back-to-moody, Ging.]

(5.) Vacuuming sucks the life force out of people.  It's a miracle I survived.

(6) Until today, the coffee table hadn't been dusted in lightyears a few weeks.

7.) Make the stupid bed.

I never like making the bed.  I think it's absolutely pointless.  I'm just going to sleep in it within 18 hours.  So the energy is never there.  But Mr. Wookie loves a made bed.  So it's either this...or a grumpy Mr. Wookie.  And it's only a lame guess as to which side I sleep on...

8.) The Never-ending Story Laundry.

Thanks to dog fur, the laundry now accumulates twice as fast.  Because instead of folding up those jeans to be worn another few days, they're covered in slobber because someone in the house has a pension for producing too much saliva....then chucka-chucka-chucka-ing all over the house (that's my verbage for when the dog does the water-off-me shake).

9.) La Basura.

I never like taking out the trash, because one rip in the plastic can cause a billion Q-tips to fly out.  And then there's snot rags, hair from Mr. Wookie's buzz cuts, cottons balls, make-up remover wipes, and floss.  Yum, used floss.

The one thing I did want to see today...

And she wants to play with me.

Thursday, January 27

wicked wednesday.

In case my posting about wanting to wait until after Mother Nature passes her angry fury (in order to paint), it's a good thing.  I may have been a wee bit o' pain-in-the-ass tonight.

The heater pad helped.  As did the vodka.  And the pizza.

Now the question on my mind.  Will this [the pizza] help my run tomorrow?  Or not?

I'm not in the mood for life.  I'm in the mood for sleep.  Because the reruns on tonight were crap.  But at least the State of the Onion didn't interrupt Jeopardy.  I needed that [Jeopardy].  Although I sucked tonight.

I hear Sweet Pea licking her food dish across the floor.  Poor girl doesn't know she inhales her food.  It doesn't just disappear, there Sister.

Silly dog.

Maybe tomorrow will be better [for me].

And not to say Mr. Wookie can read energies...but he totally called it that I'd be UberBitch5000 this week.  Apparently, it started Sunday when he came home from work (silly Navy, they don't know what weekends are) - apparently I was a bit overdramatic about life, the dog, upcoming schedules, life again.  Well I told him to buy a lotto ticket with that luck.  Because then he could buy a billion Midols, 6-packs of microbrews, and a 5,000 squarefoot mansion to not her me bitch about being female.

That and to hire himself a lawyer after I beat his ass.  He said Aunt Flow is payment for living longer than males.  That's the biggest crock of shit I've heard lately.

I'd have killed him already.  If he didn't make me the best vodka tonics tonight.  AND he walked the dog.  AND made dinner.  And by "made dinner," he walked to Vons, bought a pizza, jazzed it up with shrooms and mango, and cut it into man pieces - delivered with a side of Ranch dressing.

No  Quite delish.  See, he meant to buy pineapple.  A pizza standard.  But apparently mango and pineapple were RIGHTNEXTTOEACHOTHER.  So he grabbed the wrong container.  Who cares?  Freakin' tasty, I'm telling you.  Try it.  You'll like it.  I promise.

I love him.  Even with my condition.

Sunday, January 23

maybe I'll wait for the hormones to pass

No one likes PMS.  No one likes a bitch in the house.  No one likes inconsolable crying over your older brother stealing a freshly sharpened pencil because he's a jackass like that. True story.  I was maybe 12. still haunts me.

Good thing I've learned to see my the end is near, run, Mr. Wookie, run! behaviors and will warn him in advance..."Oh, by the way, I may be bitchy soon.  Sorry."

And then I'll make him a scotch on the rocks to take the edge off.

So here's my dining room in all it's glory.  Why am I showing this to you now considering we moved in back in August???  Well...things got busy.  We moved in, Mr. Wookie left for a bit, I sulked around the house like a lonely pack of Thin Mints, then we racked up the credit card debt to partially furnish the house after he returned, then I got a job, then I didn't like that job anymore, then we went on Christmas.  In between there was my birthday, Beaver games, our anniversary, and many decorating conversations.  And some of those debts paid off.

Oh, and that job I got.  I quit it.  Even though it involved events and social media.  Because I got a better one.  One also involving social media.  Yes.  Awesome.

The whole house was a "khaki nightmare" as Middle Sister described it.  Yes, the whole house was the same freakin' color.  There must have been a sale on never-ending sadness on the walls.  It's like why mix up the living arrangements, when you can buy a 5-gallon bucket and not have to change rollers?

So like any good renters, we smacked a bright-ass red on the walls.  Hello, kitchen!  This is how living should be.  Besides, the color red ensues hunger.  And we hunger for color.  Because we don't suffer from cataracts and prefer to enjoy our living digs.  That and the landlord just said, "No purple."  So we're just following orders.

Ahhh, look at this exquisite detail.
The perfect lines.

There's just one thing missing about our job.  I just can't quite put my finger on it.  Something's missing.  I'm trying to think straight.  Okay, okay, you got me.  Our painting skills suck.  But I'm blaming it on the blue painter's tape we used in the first place.  I made straight lines, I swear.  It just happened to bleed under.  Gar.  Luckily I remembered hearing about "Frog Tape" as Mr. Wookie ran some errands (Home Depot, check!).  So now the better-be-improved green tape is on the wall so we can fix the eyesore.

I just don't know if I want to start this project before I get even-more-cranky-thanks-to-Mother-Nature.  Or it's best to stave off a few days until I'm calm.  Things could either go swimmingly well.  Or I could launch myself into a Hulk-esque fit of cabin fever, throwing red paint over everything, and writing "RED RUM" in the mirror.

Heeeeere's Sweet Pea!

Friday, January 21

not America's next top model

Something small came in the mail to us yesterday.  Well, to me.  But meant for someone with 4 legs.  Loads of drool.  And the inability to "stay" for pictures.  What's that, Mom??  If I run towards you, you can't take a picture??  But Mom, it's so fun!  Hahahah....oh, what's that?   A treat?  Yes, I'll sit.  For 3.2 seconds.  Ready?  Go!

I about lost my shit when I opened this.  The dog didn't know what was wrong with me. Mom, you okay?  Treat?  I thought I was getting an eco-conscience housekeeping book from Baby Sister (she got a great one for Christmas).  Nope.  Better.

Hmmm, what's this "OS?"  Will it give me treats?  Take me for long walks?

Remember what I told you, lady.  3.2 seconds for pictures.  Now treat me, bitch. No, really, she won't stay.  I'll crouch to take more pictures, and she comes at me like Charlie Sheen to prostitutes.  And drugs.  And gambling.  And STD's.

Modeling training will begin eventually.  Once she realizes not to try and lick the camera.  But at least it looks good on her.  She'll be excited for August just like the rest of Beaver Nation.  Win or lose, we still booze I get a TREAT!

Thank you, immensely, to Baby Sister for the fantastic Beaver Gear for our dear girl.  This is awesome, lightweight, and is the perfect fit for her thick neck.  It's tasteful and not too IN YOUR FACE!  That's the way we like our Beaver Gear.

Tuesday, January 18

maybe I'll just verbal vomit today

I never like when the weekend amounts to just lounging at home, hanging out with Mr. Wookie, and the blog has nothing to show off.  It's like, Ooooh, how exciting, you sat your ass watching another movie.  The blog is really going to entertain readers that way.

But really, we're an exciting pair.  Unless you catch us at 7:01pm on weekdays.  Then our asses are parked on the couch watching Jeopardy.  And we don't hold a conversation with you.  We intensely try our best to answer the questions....or at least bullshit the best we can if the category is "Morse Code."  And obviously we love to "air five" each other when one of us bullshits a right answer.

Sooooooo, let's not avoid the gigantic pink elephant in the room.  Have you seen Extreme Couponing??????????  I know Mommy McD has...because we text-versation about the crazies.  I mean, I'm all for couponing to save money, and feed your family on a smaller budget.  I totally get it.  Buuuuuuuut...there was one lady who just had to buy 150 candy bars because she had coupons.  Umm,'re one Snickers away from diabetes (if not already).  And not to judge, BUT YOU DON'T NEED 150 CANDY BARS.

But I am proud to say I totally used a coupon to buy my Chobani greek yogurts.  Because those things aren't cheap.  But very healthy (like 16-18 grams of protein!).  And delicious.  So here's to coupons.  Coupons for good things.  Like not candy bars.

We're starting to let Sweet Pea sleep not baby-gate'd off to the tiled parts of the house (we feared bathroom issues, that's why).  Three days ago, Mr. Wookie made the movements to put her to bed.  And like any good dog, she's learning how to swing her adorable face into getting what she wants.  I about had a FREAKIN' HEART ATTACK when I wake up that morning and see her sleeping on her bed in front of the fire place.  I thought we had to rename her Houdini.  But nope, she's just getting used to us and we can let her sleep just outside the bedroom.

I love watching The Rachel Zoe Project.  But I also love eating.   So I'll never be an under-nourished fashion model who can rock a Size 2.  I already have issues in finding pants long and sleeves and torsos long enough...why would I want to make that job any harder.  Plus, I like my small closet.  And I LOVE that Mr. Wookie is more of a clothes-horse than I.  Seriously, the man has more clothes than me.  Dead serious.

And I'm curious who snores more.  Mr. Wookie.  Or Sweet Pea.

Sunday, January 16

the lone girlfriend in the room of Navy Wives: Wives Group 101

The Officer Support Group (sometimes hilariously referred to as the "Knives Group") is the affiliation program for the Squadron wives that makes an excuse to get together once a month, bring along some grub, perhaps some beverages, and hang out with some other ladies who love men in uniform.

Just so you know, I'm the special invite to the club.  No marriage license necessary.  Just me.  And our long-term relationship.  Oh, and someone to sponsor my ass on base.  And high five me when necessary.  Usually after I juice 20 Arizona grapefruits, sieve those 2 quarts of juice, and make some damn good Greyhounds.

Now that I've officially survived 3 or 4 meetings, I can now say I know everything about Wives Groups. Just kidding.  I did sniff out a good lead on Girl Scout cookies when that time of the year comes though.

The Wives Group relays pertinent information for the group, contact information, and potential training times away (even before Mr. Wookie sometimes - muhahahah!) - anything that is critical for us to know.  This is good.

The Wives Group can also be "bitchy" in generalization.  This is not good.

Last night was the best Wives Group yet.  I hung out with the Department Head wives, snacking, yacking it up, crying we were laughing so hard, and leaving after Midnight despite the meeting going beyond the projected timeframe.  I may or may not have mentioned something revolving around lesbians, Subarus, and "coexist" stickers that had everyone in stitches of laughter.

I'm feeling at home with the ladies.  This is really good.

My first meeting, I've mentioned, wasn't as I expected.  I'm partially shy when introduced to new people, so that was going against me.  That and I was the only non-married one there.  So no sticking in numbers.  It's me against the music, and just me.  Oh, and let's mention, I'm the only one who brought a vegetable-based dish.  That's exactly what they want out of a new member.  Who is this girl?  Some liberal-ass hippie who's rather in a long-term relationship than jumping on the marriage wagon AND she's shoving vegetables down our throats?

So now they know...I bring vegetables.

And while after my first meeting in October, I wasn't sure if the Wives Group was really for me.  I told myself to try out 3 meetings to get a feel for it all.  I'm quite glad I stuck with it.  And I think I may be embarrassed to say, I kinda like these ladies.  They're a hoot.  And if Friday night is just the tip of the iceberg, I can't wait until our Ladies Night Out later this month.  Because that's just my style.  Nights out on the town.

Friday, January 14

the milspouse fill-in is back in action

The Milspouse Friday Fill-In is sponsored by Wife of a Sailor.  So if you're a wife, a girlfriend, a concubine, hop on over and join the fun.  Get to know some of the ladies, comment your ass off (including mine!), and welcome!

Thank goodness it's back, I was losing steam on posting this week as I'm just a tad tired out from my first week (ever!) of dog ownership.  I picked up more poop, smelled more farts, and got slobbered on more than I ever have.  This isn't easy.  And my laundry loads are increasing (the drool, the hair!), but she's such a cutie.  We're still a work in progress, but it's going better than I thought.

Maybe this weekend will recharge me.

Maybe not.

But at least I have a Happy Hour date before Wives Group tonight.

1.) What are you looking forward to most in 2011?
The potential.  Each year gets more exciting with Mr. Wookie.  In 2009, we bridged the gap between the West Coast and the East Coast by my checking $50 worth of luggage and saying goodbye to Hometown, Oregon.  In 2010, we put down great roots in the bustling area of Norfolk, Virginia as he chipped away at flight school and brought home some bacon in a better economy.  In 2011, we're excited as he's now in an official squadron, has real responsibilities, we're meeting some great people, still setting into life in a state that has direct flights to all of Oregon!  Oh, and that whole dog thing too!

2.) What is something random you do on a boring night when your significant other is away?
Well if he's gone, the FLANNEL SHEETS ARE ON LIKE DONKEY KONG!  So I'd probably turn in early, read a book, and maybe eat cereal in bed.  Yes, very boring.  But now that we have a dog, it'll probably entail walking her a little early and us lounging on the couch watching Teen Mom (don't deny, you love it!)

3.) What has been your greatest adventure as a milspouse?
The fact that we get to give our 2-weeks notice and move anywhere.  I was very saddened to leave Virginia, but I get to blame it on him. ;)  It's a chance to do something else.  A chance to use my event coordination experience and maybe break into more marketing.  I'll get to join a real squadron, and despite my first Wives Group being kinda tormenting, it's easing out into a nice place where I look forward to hanging out with the ladies.  It's a fun life.  Not everyone gets to do it, but then again not every can.

4.) What is the ugliest fashion trend you ever bought into?
I'm happy to say I've never found UGGS attractive.  Nor the late 90's colored sunglasses ala Carson Daly and TRL.  I was guilty of ill-fitting that a trend?  I've always been self-conscience of my body (like what girl isn't!), so I never had properly fitting clothes.  Well thanks to a paycheck, for having lanky ass swag, I'm now a properly dressed individual!  Yes.

5.) What was the high point of last month?
Umm, I got to go home for Christmas for the first time in 3 years, AND Mr. Wookie came with me.

Thursday, January 13

hack attack

Do not believe what zhey tell you.  Zhis is a very hard life.  They givez me zis bed, this pretty pink collar, and take me on long adventurouz walks.  I don't know how I'll keep up. 

Oh, and make zhem bring me more squeaky balls.  I lovez zhem.  Zhey make beautiful noise and entertainment for hourz.

But I will say sorry for ze gas.  Zhe change in food from zhat crap the kennel fed me is causing a bit of abruption in ze systems.  But it just makes you love me more, no?  I'z so sweet.  No?

Wednesday, January 12

the dog ownership workout plan, yours with 2 easy payments

With an "active" Bulldog, we're still judging the distance that'll make an appropriate walk for her without cutting it too short or making it resemble the Bataan Death March.

A quarter of a mile is too short.
A half of a mile is mere puppy's play.
Three-quarters of a mile is a little short from alright.
A mile makes for one tired Sweet Pea.

We fully expect her distance to continue to improve as she recovers from her kennelizing for the past months.  She's a big, strong girl who looooooves a powerful walk just as long as there aren't any birds around (she's a fan of wanting to chase after birds...birds of all things!).  So I wouldn't be surprised if we surpass the mile walk here in the next month.

Camera phone picture...yes, high quality.

I don't know if she's sore, because she pounces to the door at the sign of the leash.  I will say, I'm sore.  I've never been a power walker.  I power walk to the fridge, that's about it. So while I never asked for sore hips, sore shins, and sore ankles, I guess it's time those things got a workout.  But seriously, I'm being out-maneuvered by a dog.  WTH?  That wasn't mentioned in the adoption paperwork! ;)

Tuesday, January 11

meet Miss Sweet Pea

What weighs 67 pounds, is between 3-4 years old, has the c-section scar of being bred, was dumped off at a shelter, and was looking for a home with love, affection, and a pension for long walks??

This lady.

Her name is Sweet Pea.  Or at least, that's what she was named after coming into the Southern California Bulldog Rescue group last summer.  And we like it.  So we ain't changing it.  Her owners were facing foreclosure on their mobile home, so they loaded up their bulldog and beagle and tied them to the shelter post.  Leaving them.

That was last summer.

The bad economy has pushed more than 50 bulldogs into this very rescue group.  And because of this severe influx of dogs, not all dogs can be fostered.  So some sit in cages.  Sweet Pea was one of those.

She's an unconventional "bully" (as they're called).  She's huge.  Her snout is not as smooshed and she's slightly leggier than the rest in the rescue (we peg this on a little bit of Olde English blood in her).  The average bulldog is 45-50 pounds.  Sweet Pea is nearing 70 pounds.  So she's not a dainty lapdog.  But she caught our eye.

We first contacted the rescue group on December 1st.  Less than 2 weeks later, we had the group wanting to schedule our home inspection (they require specific home guidelines for adoptions, i.e. fenced pool, no dead puppies in your freezers, etc.).  So after patiently waiting until after the Christmas season, we were ready to meet our girl.

On January 8th, we met Miss Sweet Pea at the adoption event down in Orange County (yes, a 1.5 hour drive!).  We hid our motive under the collection of our Christmas gifts from Middle Sister's fiance, but in reality, we were wanting to meet her.  As well as we wanted the gifts too, don't worry Mom!

So we did.  For 2 hours.  Then we took the all-important coffee break to discuss, "Is she for us?" "Is this right?" "Can we do this?"

This picture was taken by the organization to use in their marketing.

Then the organization President announced our decision.  "Ladies and gentleman, we've just had our second adoption of the day.  Miss Sweet Pea has found a home with Mr. and Mrs. Wookie."  *hooting, hollering* I believe there were 3 adoptions that day.  Hip hip, hurray for pet rescue/adoption!

And after a slight adoption fee (lower than we were expecting...which is always nice), we loaded her in the Jeep.  Although she tried to jump in the Jeep herself, because (we now know) she loves her some car rides.  Once home, we had to scrap together a list of what we needed to provide a quality life for her.  Food dishes, a bed, treats, etc.  Thank goodness that leash was included (so was the harness), but that green has got to go.  We're thinking Orange. :)

You're probably wondering what sort of trauma/setbacks she's faced since being kenneled for a few months.  We were too.

Upon arrival, we did have a couple accidents on the carpet.  But we're happy to say that the bathroom behavior has been corrected.  It's just like riding a bike.  And we're pleased. With treats and positive affirmations, she knows that the grass is the bathroom.  And to sit for a "good girl" treat.

And we've also farted around with various commands, sit, lay, rollover...and she can do those too.  "WTH?" we thought.  Is she a stinkin' showdog???  Who would just dump her off???

So while she's had training before, we'll just be reimplementing the training to make sure she's appropriately behaved at home, out on walks, and with human visitors.

She does do a little bit of whimpering while we're lounging on the couch watching television.  It's odd.  And she doesn't have to use the bathroom, because it can occur right after outings.  So that's the only thing we're not sure about.  But she does love to lounge on my crappy college couch, and drool everywhere, which is fine because I'm pretty sure Calvin Klein is adding a slobber detail to his Spring '11 line.

And in the first 24 hours, she killed her first squeaker ball.  Finito.  Dunzo.  Dead.  The squeaker ball is going to be an expensive habit.  We might have to take her to Celebrity Rehab: Squeaker Ball edition.

Monday, January 10

why the blog's been a little silent.

We're adapting to lives as new parents.  And it's taken some getting used to...

I never knew loving 67 pounds could be so fun.

Details soon...

Friday, January 7

riddle me this

While undergoing a little HTML renovation on the blog, let's pose a question...

When do you take down Christmas decorations?

Thursday, January 6

I had a revelation while I was getting my eyelashes dyed and brows waxed...

I was laying there on the surgical table, getting my eye makeup removed, preparing for dark, luscious lashes.  This is my third brow waxer here in California, so I guess you could say I've been shopping around for something that I feel is competent with hot wax, near my eyes, and won't funk up my Brooke Shields brows that I've been working on for 27 years some time.  But I like this girl, so I'm back for a second round of, "Will she continue to pass the test?"

No, really, eye lash dyeing.  I thought, "What's an extra $10 bucks?"  So I did it.  They're dark now.  Super dark.  Like mascara-wearing dark.  Amazing.

So we're exchanging pleasantries, How was your Christmas??....New Years?, and other small talk conversations that come up.  I'm telling her that Christmas was great, we did a lot of traveling, saw a lot of family, but towards the end of being away...I just wanted to be back, not living out a suitcase, eating my hippie food, and crawling into my bed.  I just wanted to be home.

"So you're calling this home now?"

She's right.  Last brow wax, I explained how things weren't clicking right in the area, I had a less-than-stellar first experience with the "Wives Group," how the unemployment scene was not what I was expecting (I wasn't thinking end-of-the-world...I kinda should have) and how we're not sure we made the right move in wanting to come back to the West Coast.

But after all the traveling over the holidays, all of the hide-a-bed couches, the guest rooms, and the change in scenery (and temperature!), it's nice to be home.  I never looked at it that way until she was breathing all up my grill making sure every straw hair was tidied (she's meticulous...I love it!), but I guess we're doing our best at making this place work for us.  It's not ideal (hello rent-I've-never-seen-so-high-except-maybe-the-District-and-Manhattan), but it's where we're at.  And where we're at is with each other.  So as sappy and Nicholas Sparks-esque it is, I'm happy being here with a boy who won't face deployment until in the future, with a house set at 70-72 degrees, and the ability to walk to Vons (aka Safeway for my people) and find New Belgium brewery.

California: I guess it feels like we're home.  For the next 2.67 years.

Wednesday, January 5

Bandwagon Jump: 11 in 2011

Hear ye, hear ye, though ist announcing thy New Year's resolutions upon a proclaimation to the blogosphere of impending progress in thine life and supporting role.

Okay, enough of that crap, let's just talk about how I'm going to be a better person this year, a better blogger, a better friend, a better Mrs. Wookie, and how I'll learn how to make Manhattans up the minute Mr. Wookie strolls through the door with his man purse flight bag and a look of disgust on this face that he actually had to do work instead of painting squadron murals all day long....

True, Mr. Wookie is being commissioned not only as a Naval Officer...but as the Squadron Picaso to dole his expertise on their blank walls.  Work is in initial phasing, but you-betcha that it'll grace the blog when it's done.  Because blogging is bragging and bragging is blogging, duh.

Mrs. Wookie's attempts at humoring you-slash-being a better person...

1.) Comment more!!!!
I feel like a shmuck when I read, giggle maniacally, then don't tell you how awesome that was.  Because I, too, like to die when people comment on my blog that they just suffered bladder failure because of my linguistic prowess.  So let's work on returning the favor.  I've already commented more this week than I have all last year (okay, probably not really, but it feels like it!).

So fellow bloggers, watch out.  And I'll apologize in advance for blogposts in the comment sections.  Sometimes I get carried away and tangent like all hell.  Kinda like now...

2.) Read 20+ books!
I was quite pleased with my attack of literature for last year.  It could always be more, but I get hung up on fiction and how...umm....lazy and retarded it could be.  I hate when things are so far-fetched, it's not even close to reality.  This is usually why I stick to non-fiction.  Because that shit's real!  And anything to help my Jeopardy game is a must.

3.) Run 10 miles for every pound Baby Sister loses...
Last year was an amazing year for Baby Sister as she lost more than 30 pounds with a change in lifestyle and the diagnosis of a thyroid condition.  This year, with Middle Sister's wedding on the horizon in August, and a 5K in the works for March, she's looking at dropping more weight to look extra fab-dambulous.  Well...because I need to get my ass back to working out, I've decided to add a little competition to the mix.  I'll be adding a mile tracker for my progress, as well as a tracker for her progress.  Christmas 2011 will be rough.  A battle of the "Who's fitter?"

4.) Host one helluva Bridal Shower for Middle Sister
Take one older sister (me), with event coordination experience (me!), who hates lame-ass bridal showers of stupid games and crappy food (me!), and let's make something fantastic!  Middle Sister, I'll be coming to you for all details and desires.  Mama Ging, I'll be coming to you for fundage.  Ready?  Break!

5.) Let's try one new recipe a week.
No, this won't be blog-chronicled, but I feel the need to up my kitchen presence.  Mr. Wookie is THE chef in the house.  He can whip up risotta pancakes, with strawberry glaze, and a pork tenderloin that will make vegans scream the name of Hog.  I can make cereal.  (And a mean breakfast, and bake up a storm, but the stove....causes more anxiety than a diabetic in a candy let's work on that!).

6.) Let's try some pet rescue.
I've had experience lately of pets loving me.  Completely strange dogs coming up to me for love and affection and avoiding any and all others.  So I'm taking this a sign that I'm the new Cesar Milan of dogs.  Minus I don't need a green card because I'm a citizen.  That and I'm a Ging, which is way better anyway than a short man with a pack of 5 dogs.

7.) Learn to use my Nikon, chronicle my photos via a blog tab.
This may be a long shot.  But I figure, I can only get better with my pictures.  Especially living here in Southern California where the mountains are gorgeous, the beach beautiful, and the ocean a mile away.  And if there's some pet rescue action, I can turn 4-legged creatures into my muse.

8.) Visit my dearest Mommy McD!
She's in severe need of a Ging, a footrub, some shopping, and a Sister Wife.  And an emergency c-section scar that'll heal fully so she can rock her skinny jeans (seriously, after like 2.4 seconds of having Baby #3, she fits into her skinny jeans...let's send her hate mail by the way of United Airlines points to me.  I'd love to hate her via a flight from LAX to Dulles or Reagan).

9.) Attend my yearly Oregon State football game
You betcha that we're looking forward to a better season this year.  But like Oregon State football, you can dream the moon...make the Jello shots extra strong...but life will still give you lemons.  So then you just make lemon drops...and invite Middle Sister to help with the extra (she loves them!).

10.) Survive Christmas alone, if I have to...
With the Navy as our means to Mr. Wookie as bread winner, you never know how the schedules will be come the holidays.  So I just hope I have the strength, should I need, to handle a Christmas stuck in California without Mr. Wookie.  Or let's hope my negotiation skills improve to where I can convince my family to visit the sunny locale of just-North-of-Malibu.

11.) Grow my hair out!
This one may prove more difficult than the rest.  The in-between phase is a PAIN IN THE ASS.  Short hair is hot.  Long hair is ponytail-licious.  Awkward grow-in...just that, awkward.  So we'll see.  If I chronicle a short 'do, you know I failed.  I love my short hair.  But I love ponytails too.  May the winner take all!

Wow, did you make it all the way through without any pictures?  I mean, I could have put pictures, but I'm really lazy you'll have to suffice.  But seriously, you just read this 12 minutes of my typing the longest list I've written that didn't involve groceries.  I don't know whether to congratulate you or refer to a shrink.  It just depends on whether you want an awkward email of my hand (for a high five) or a prescription to happy pills.  The high five might be cheaper...