Sunday, February 27

vegan week: Day 2

Well at least I got a run in today.  In case you missed this morning's fun, be sure to check in on my first Green Monster experience.  I do have about 4 cups of spinach left (if not more), and will experience different recipes to see if I can fully appreciate the spinach smoothie.  Obviously you'd hate to miss out on the fun, so you'll be sure to be checking back with me to see if I fail at veganism.

I will say, I now know why vegans are so skinny.  They're starving!

Okay, this may or may not be true.  But I will say, I'm starving.  I feel like I'm constantly hungry.  This may be because I'm used to eating whenever I'm hungry.  I do tend to eat 6 mini meals a day to help keep the blood sugar at a functioning level.  But now, I have to think about everything I eat.  I can't just whip out a protein bar, because the factory that produces it also produces dairy products (I'm being very strict in my vegan week).

I do believe that lots can be taken from being vegan for one week.  It takes constant conscious efforts to ensure my meals are balanced and as nutritious as possible while omitting dairy and flesh.  I will take the thought process of beginning each meal vegan-based.  There are strong nutrients to a vegan base.

Let's take a look at my dinner tonight.

Tonight I had sweet potato and black bean chili over rice.  The rice was leftover.  What did I want to do with this meal?  I wanted to throw some pungent cheese over it and wrap it into a tortilla.  Instead, I ate it as it was.  Tonight I was just hungry.  I wanted something quick.  And I didn't want to slave over the stage because THE OSCARS WERE ON!  So it was boring, bland, and blah.

I will try much harder tomorrow to create something more exciting and filling than tonight's rendition.

Baby Sister and I tweeted tonight.  We're kinda over this.  We're hungry.  And ya know?  Girl Scout cookies are NOT vegan.  #butthurt  But I'm holding out.  I will complete this week.  Maybe tomorrow will be better. I hope so.

But I understand veganism.  I do.  When you don't agree with the practices of the food industry, you don't participate in the food industry.  You choose to shop via farmer's markets, farm stands, and such.  I command you for holding strong to your convictions.  I don't have these feelings...with meat.  I do participate in a produce delivery with local providers so I kinda get it.  Kinda.  Sorta.  Maybe so.

Veganism is good to prevent mindless snacking.  Although Mommy McD did bring to my attention that Ruffles are vegan.  Ingredients: potatoes, oil, and salt.

I assume this will get easier as I figure out what the heck I'm doing in the kitchen, and realize all the things I can eat once I get familiar with the program.  I was also challenged on Facebook to a Vegan Month.  Ummm, we'll see about that.

the lure of the Green Monster

I'll be honest.  I love reading healthy living/food/strange addiction blogs because ...well ...I'm not one of them.  It's awesome to peer into the lives of someone you're not.  This may be why I have a slight obsession with Mormon blogs, marathon blogs, fashion blogs, and domestic abuse blogs (no kidding, I found one, was shocked/intrigued all in one!).  I now have a great respect for food bloggers because of all the pictures they take BEFORE they ravage their plate.  Usually I just inhale food.  Screw taking pictures of it.

But there has been one item that's always caught my eye.  The Green Monster.

Considered the 'go-to' breakfast smoothies for those with ridiculous abilities to wake up at 4am, run 17 miles, dress their 5 kids for school, then go out and pick fresh spinach for their organic, local, grass-fed smoothie - I was curious as to it's mythical, gnome-like tabloid coverage in the blogosphere.

So along with the vegan bandwagon, the driver is handing out free recipes.  You can find them here.

So I found a recipe called "The Incredible Hulk."  I did substitute almond butter for peanut butter (I'm trying to kill the jar).  I also threw in some kale that I had nearing the end of it's lifespan.  [Thank you produce delivery for reading my mind and delivering spinach in my allotment.]  And I left the greens on the strawberries (maybe they won't kill me either).  And I had to add more soymilk as it was quite soup-y and not whhhrrrrrrrr-ing like it should (you know, cyclone-ing and shtuff).

Ummm, based off looks....not so appetizing.  I'm pretty sure I've picked up dog nuggets that have similar'd this color.  AND there are chunks/flakes o' kale and spinach.  Umm, needing to floss after a smoothie is not my idea of a good time.  But the first cup went down fine.  I'm on my second glass now (since I added extra soymilk, there was a double dose o' fighting antioxidants ready for my immune system - HIYA!).  The jury is befuddled.  I'm not throwing in the towel quite yet.  But I'm still hungry.  And I know there are a bazillion nutrients in this, so I know it's not going to waste.  I just don't know how people are swearing by these yet.  My blender looks like I just had a run-in with the septic tank. Yes, I went there.  But bottoms up, people!  And yes, I'd like a perkier booty too.

Vegan Week: Day 1

But first a flashback to yesterday's lunch, a happier time, an oinker time...

A breakfast burrito that made my heart pitter patter knowing it'd be a week until I get to indulge in these lovely beauties again.  Last night I thought I was up for this mission.  This morning, I wasn't so sure.  But thankfully I already enjoy soy creamer, so I wasn't as bitchy as I could have been.

Breakfast included soymilk-based Cream of Wheat, alongside my second cup of coffee for the morning.  I was up before Mr. Wookie, so I made the happy sauce a bit stronger than usual.  This may or may not have resulted in my ass being extra retarded/perky/insane.

But then my lunch I was starving.  And in a conundrum.  I needed to go grocery shopping, but I was expecting my produce delivery anytime.  So I held out.  And snacked on non-butter popcorn.  Snore.  But so far, so good in the Vegan Week mindset.

Then produce came, along with a Facebook gem.  I was introduced to a fantastic vegan website.  Any vegans out there?  Well, hit up Post Punk Kitchen.

What was on the menu: Chickpea Rice Soup with Cabbage.  Thank you produce delivery for the cabbage and carrot.  I did have to continue onto the store for the garbanzo beans and garlic (we were out of both along with other essentials).

And sorry the carrot looks semi-phallic.

And after today, I never want to be a food blogger.  So many pictures!

I love when dinners take only 15 minutes to make.

It...was...surprisingly good.  Shockingly good.  Mr. Wookie had a small bowl.  "It could use some chicken," he said.  I agree.  But it wasn't as bad as I thought.  And it filled me up.  I was full after it?  WTH?

And thanks to the produce delivery also for the cukes.  A little rice wine vinegar made them delicious.  Perfect ending to Day 1 of Vegan Week. Well...almost.  The 3 best vegan ingredients known to man?  Vodka, tonic, and lemon juice.  Amen.

Saturday, February 26

the tequila makes it better

Welcome to the Himalayas! (Night at the Museum anyone?) Southern California.  Not Oregon.  Not Washington.  Not Thailand.  The red dot is me.  To the right about an inch is Pasadena.  This is Middle Sister.  Natives are dying here.  Good thing we're from Oregon where the rain deluges into suicide more than mankind can recreate.  It's maniacal here.  I can only imagine Middle Sister's territory.  And we know now Sweet Pea is not a rain dog.  Good thing Mr. Wookie's aircraft isn't stationed in Oregon.  Poor girl would hate life.

And in reference to tequila, Mr. Wookie and I made the treacherous 60-yard walk to the local mexican restaurant.  I'm getting in my last bit o' meat and cheese before Vegan Week.  I'm not looking forward to it.  But it's for a good cause.  Or at least Baby Sister is blinding me into it.  What can I say?  I love my sisters.

Friday, February 25

going vegan: the plan

@ I'm thinking we should go vegan for a week. Hold each other accountable. What do you think?
It's been decided.  I'm going vegan.  For one week.  Along with Baby Sister.  For shits and giggles.  It starts Saturday and will run through Friday.  My coffee doesn't have any issues with this since I use soy creamer.  However, Honey Nut Cheerios are NOT vegan.  Honey = bees = not vegan.  So maybe oatmeal for breakfast with fruit or brown sugar?

I'll be having my produce delivery on Saturday, so I'll use that to create a meal plan for the week.  But let's get on board with not eating animals or their byproducts.  Because everyone could use a detox.  And there's no way I'm giving up my vodka.

Am I trying to prove anything?  Nope.  Do I care that Oprah's staff went vegan?  Nope.  Why am I doing this again?  Because Baby Sister wanted me to do it with her.  So I am.  That's what sisters do.  That and always give you wise words of advice for your 21st birthday.

While I have wavered on vegetarianism, I've had no desire for veganism.  I admire those who choose to cut out certain products because it improves their lives.  Whether you have gluten issues or lactose intolerance, do what makes you healthy and happy.  I personally love the taste of bacon.  It's amazing.  I also looove reducing my carbon footprint by eating less meat and more vegetables.  I do feel that red meat has great iron and protein qualities, so I won't cut it out completely.  But a steak everyday has more saturated fat than I'd like to introduce to my body.  It just comes down to "Am I in the mood to save money? or "Am I looking at reducing my trash quantity?"  Because vegetarian it is.

But for the next week, the bacon and eggs are safe.  As is the cheese.

Thursday, February 24

Yays and Nays: Mammoth Edition

Yay to both roadtrip legs being uneventful.  This image is of the drive back at 8,000 feet/mountains at 10,000+ feet.  We barely beat the storm coming into town.  The house got over 2 feet of new snow just that night.  And yes, digging out of the garage was a bitch come Monday.  But let's not go there.  Sliding vehicles causes me anxiety and the need for a beverage.

Nay to Sweet Pea chewing through her leash during our return trip. We tether her in the back of the Jeep otherwise she'd be crawling in Mr. Wookie's lap...while we're driving...and that's a safety hazard in my book.  But it was great to see that she still stayed in the back despite not being restrained after she chewed through the leash.  At least the green is gone.

Nay to hangovers.  I'm pretty sure this is self-explanatory.  Blarg.

Yay to large bath tubs that can fit the Duggars.  Yes, this is the one I fell asleep in.  No, no alcohol was used to in my losing consciousness.  Only extreme relaxation.  And one helluva water heater.

Yay to shots.  Come back from snowboarding and are kinda cold?  Pony up to the bar, grab a shot, and insta-warm your belly.

Nay to waking up at 7:30am every morning.  No matter when we went to bed.

Nay to co-sleeping...with a dog who sleeps horizontal....and I get the ass end.  She snores, more than Mr. Wookie, she wiggles, but she produces a lot of body heat (okay, I admit, I do love that).  Now I know I won't co-sleep if I produce offspring.  Here at home, she sleeps on the ol' couch in the "Man Cave."  In Mammoth, we brought one of her beds but she didn't want to sleep there...which I can't blame her.  I have issues sleeping in new places too.  So we oomph'd her up to the bed where she proceeded to sleep past 7:30am.  Whatever it takes, people.

Yay to the dog who didn't terrorize the trip.  By the time we knew about this trip, there wasn't a lot of research into places we could board her.  We want reviews from other dog owners, perhaps a tour, and a good price (not necessarily cheap, but good in that she gets attention other than 2 meals a day).  So we took her with us.  And got plenty of love and affection from the gaggle of people.

And in case you wanted a tour of the first floor of the house, I got that...

Yes, this is how I sound when I talk to the dog.  Shut it.  She's cute and deserves that voice.  It's love.  And slight neurosis.

And no, that's not all the liquor for the weekend.  That was just what we brought to contribute.  We're not amateurs.  We were just the first to arrive.  And at least had the necessary items to wait out until others showed up.  Ice, tonic, and gin.  Record player with Bob Marley.  Party started.

Sunday, February 20

my life may get a bit more expensive

I didn't know a damn thing about Mammoth Mountain before getting here.  I knew it was a hefty drive from our location, and that I needed to pack snacks, and prepare road games as it'd be boring.  Well it was boring.  Very boring.

Mammoth seems like the perfect place for winter and summer.  Winter has all things snow-based, and who doesn't want to hike the summit of the Sierra Nevadas??  My dream.  The weather was either snowing hard or beautiful skies.  And there's even a local brewery.  Could life get any better?

Besides that trust fund, eh Dad?

But now that we've been here for a few days, I think I may have had an epiphany.  I've missed hanging out with that boy of mine because he was better traversing 11,000 feet atop Mammoth.  Despite loads of fresh powder and 40 mph winds, he's been making the most of his lift ticket (and military discount!).  There hasn't been any snowshoeing for him.  And I'm starting to feel defeat.  "If you can't beat him, join him."  So for the past bit, I've been researching skiing and snowboarding since I feel the need to take up this passion with him.  What better way to spend quality time than him trying to teach this pain-in-the-ass redhead (who doesn't like sucking at anything) how to roll gracefully down the slopes without yardsale-ing like a n00b.

"Yard Sale:" When a snowboarder eats it on the slopes and loses all their gear.

I am open to comments on the pros and cons to each.  I have long-boarded before in college, so I get that motion.  And I have also water ski'd, so that's another similarity.  It's just up to preference and renting both equipment to see which one makes me each less shit.  Because the less shit I eat, the more my stomach can the way of liquid relaxation.

But snowshoeing will always be a love.  No lift ticket, just human energy.  You, snowshoes, the mountain, and your camera.  And hopefully a GPS so when you wander off trail because you saw a bunny and thought of dinner, you can find your way back home.  And a flask should your soul need warming.

Oh, and I totally took a bath tonight before changing into pajamas since it's 15 degrees here.  Yes...I fell asleep in the tub.  It was glorious.

I'm the proud killer of the Bombay Sapphire.
My dad would be proud.

I feel the need now for the Wookie & Co. household to ditch a week off our schedules to shack up at some resort while I test the waters on careening down a mountain face forward or sideways.  This way I can take advantage of a random weekday where only the minimal amount of people are there.  I have a thing against making an ass out of myself in front of huge crowds.  This is also why I have 3 blog followers.  Keeps the humiliation to a minimum.

After all, after a day of slopes you want to shower (I like this), eat (I really like this), and imbibe (I'm quite good at this).  Then there's BenGay (I love the smell of old men), Advil (tastes like candy), and hanging out with the dog since I'm not about to strap her ass to a board and wish her luck.

Us girls have been having a great time lounging, napping, zonking indoors as Mr. Wookie defends freedom practices videoing and snowboarding.  As long as she has her blanket, she can sleep anywhere.  And as long as I can cuddle with her butt, I can sleep anywhere.

Saturday, February 19

life is rough here in the mountains

We weren't sure how she would like the snow.  We live near the beach.  We enjoy beach weather, beach bodies, and lounging in the sun.  This white shit...worried me.  But we like the snow.  We tromp through it.  We even pee and poop in it.

Disclaimer: She's only out for the duration of bathroom needs.  And no, I didn't find it necessary to buy her ass some boots.  Every time she comes back in, we wipe her paws off and all that necessary shtuff.  No worries.  We still have a happy, lazy dog with full circulation.

There may have been a couple gin and tonics, a few more gin and Diet Cokes (I was too lazy to walk to the fridge for more tonic....and it's actually quite delicious).  And I don't remember this picture.  So naturally that means I had a great night.  And for the record: A hangover-free morning.

Really, it's a rough life to be on vacation with dog lovers.  She's suffering.

Friday, February 18

away we go

5:33am wake up call. Don't judge.  It takes me a good hour to wake up in the morning.  And by 'wake up,' I mean indulge in coffee while Mr. Wookie and Sweet Pea are unconscious and delve into blog stalking.  Packed our snow gear.  Then we hit the road.

The open road.  The long drive.  And the white surroundings upon arrival.  We've ventured North to Mammoth Mountain for an extended weekend of some beverages (not that I've, not at all).  Oh, and friends.  Can't forget friends.

And this puppy love.

She was quite the good girl riding calmly in the back of the Jeep.  The first 30 minutes involved one app-shit dog, OMG, CAR RIDE, BANANAS, CAN'T WAIT, SO EXCITED, WATCH OUT!  Then she figured we weren't ditching her ass at some shelter like her last owners, she's coming along with her family on our little vacation.  Buckle down, sister, it's going to be a drive.  And so she alternated between boring herself with the landscape and taking naps.

So now we're here.  Indulging in liquid relaxation while all our guests pile in.

friday fill-in with those crazy milspouses

It's Friday y'all!  Time for milspouse action in the blogosphere to circle the wagons and blog brag about our lives.  Because who doesn't want to be a milspouse?  Who doesn't want to move every 2-4 years, start their careers over, take paycuts, hunt down appropriate living digs, and finding a new hairdresser (yup, that's my least favorite!)?

Well...we're at it again.

This time it's post-Valentine's and everyone is on the post-sugar crash.

So let's liven it up!

1.) What is your favorite milspouse blog (not including your own)?
It depends. I have favorites for different reasons.  Do I want to talk Stanford football?  Then I read Sespi's.  Do I want to drool over the rain of the PacNW?  I stalk NavyGirl's.  Do I want to read about the horrors of having your crotch lasered?  Then it's the Annoyed Army Wife.  It just depends.  I have lots of favorites, if I follow means YOU ENTERTAIN ME and I LOVE it!

2.) What are your favorite perks about your s/o being deployed/training?
I can hog the bed. I can eat breakfast all day long. I can eat vegetarian and not hear gruff. I can stay in pajamas all morning. I can have a beverage in bed while reading.

3.) How long did you date your before getting engaged? Married?
It depends on what state we're in.  We're not technically married.  We're the blog that chronicles and emphasizes the power of the progressive relationship: committed without the government involvement.  In Oregon, we're common-law.  But we don't really use that title in real life.  We're just together.

But if you're curious as to our duration of a couple:  That'd be 7+ years.

And proud of it.

4.) What do you think your s/o would do if s/he wasn't in the military?
Wear a suit, not use his [history] degree, bring home the bacon, and live in Oregon.  Sweet stuff.

5.) If you could talk to the Secretary of the Navy, what is one suggestion you would like to bring their attention in order to improve the lives of military families?
I've never really thought about it.  Umm, increase BAH in California because the county we live in is not up to our living standards and we have to pay over BAH to afford quality housing.  I don't want to be elitist, but come on....this place is a dump overall.  Majority of the houses haven't been renovated since at least the early 1990's.  That's just too old for our taste.

Yes, I know that's totally superficial, but what else is there to bitch about with the Navy that really cuts me deep?  I take everything with a sprinkle of salt.  We chose this.  We're going to suck it up.  Even if it takes paying more for granite countertops.

One part vinegar, 4 parts water. Run through machine.  Repeat twice.

And because blogging should always have pictures.  This is what happens when you clean out your coffee pot.  We've been drinking out of this daily for years.  Who know's what we've ingested.  I think it counteracts the alcohol though.  Maybe I should market it.  We've got rich college kids around here.  I'd make a fortune.  Steve Jobs, suck it.

Thursday, February 17

the story of this morning

Somehow I found it entertaining to stay up with Mr. Wookie, talk dog, this weekend, upcoming weekends, work, vacations, dog training, and more.  Then we realized it was past 12:30am...shit.

This is how this morning is looking.  Lots of caffeine.  Reason #1 I'm not Mormon.

Yes, the soy creamer is mine. I'm experimenting with cutting out all lactose. I can get quite the distended belly from greek yogurt, cow milk, etc., so I'm trying something new.  I call it the quit-looking-pregnant-thanks-to-dairy movement. So far, so good.

Maybe one day I'll document my 4-month-pregnant-looking belly.

I had stories planned out for this week's posts.  But then, randomly, life launches into a time-warp continuum and I misplace my blogging ability behind one of Sweet Pea's chewtoys.

A call yesterday at 2:00pm had me failing to remember Wives Group last night, that it was a baby shower, and that it was 30 minutes away.

So I come home, grab a snack (I was starving), then jumped into the friend's car for carpool action.

Yup, no gift.  Wives Group fail.

So obviously this week you didn't see any posts on Sweet Pea.  Or Mr. Wookie.  Or myself.  Blogging fail.

I want nothing more right now than let Sweet Pea out to use the bathroom, come back in, tuck her back into her bed, throw my ass back in bed, and sleep until nature deems it appropriate to rise 'n shine.  Ain't gonna happen today.

When does the weekend start??? Not soon enough.

Monday, February 14

paint my heart with red

He's my best friend.  My roommate.  My chef.  My personal space heater.

He makes me laugh.  He makes me cry.  And he's even made me snort.

He snores.  He grunts.  And he groans...when the gin has run dry.  Sorry baby, that's what you get for going out of town and you leave me with a movie marathon of Short Circuit, GooniesAway We Go, Smokey and the Bandit, and Forrest Gump.

He tackles projects that I drag ass on.

And he's pretty cute from the back side.
Sorry parents.

We don't do anything commercial on Valentine's Day.  I don't want a box of chocolates, a stuffed bear, or red roses.  That's just screams unoriginality.  How about you slaughter a cow, cook it medium, and serve it to me with a side of baked potato, roasted veggies, and a heaping glass of merlot?  Because nothing says love like the color in a medium steak.

We don't go out to eat.  We stay in.

We do swap cards.  And they're usually hilarious and inappropriate.

And I do hug and kiss him a thousand times over because that's what girlfriends do.  It's the wives that are cold, heartless bleeding sacks of bitch-tastic ecstasy that force testicles into blenders shaped like overpriced jewelry, 4-star restaurants, and Maltese dogs.  Now high five me because that was hilarious to write and we all know one woman who gives women a bad name.

We spend Valentine's as a day where we appreciate our relationship.  And we urge you to do the same.  In a time where everyone is trying to "one up" you...tell them to fart right off.  Love what you have.  Even if you're gay, love your partner even if the crotchety ol' politicians that say you can't have a real relationship - they're just upset that they're married to an ice-crotch themselves.

Your relationship only needs one label: Loving.

Or: Rich.  Because whoever said "money can't buy happiness," didn't meet this Ging.  Money can be clothes that fit tall people, personal yoga sessions, unlimited flights to Dulles, any Rock 'N Roll race entry fee, a personal chef, a personal masseuse, P.Diddy's alimony check, and a hit man for Heidi Montag.

I want to wish everyone a day of love, zero Herpes outbreaks, tofu dinners for those who don't eat flesh, and upstairs neighbors who don't weigh as much as water buffalo when they walk.

happy birthday nephew

He was due February 10th, but said, "Eff that."  And I'd like to say for the record, his mama was very adamant in not having a cupid baby.

My brother and SIL stood strong despite needing to transport the little guy to a more-advanced NICU facility 3 hours away.  Maybe this is a sign he'll never be a hippie as he balked the idea of home birthing...

Now he's a healthy 1-year-old boy who's capable of so much more.  He can webcam with his Aunt Ging on Sundays while his parents are at church (for those who don't know Brother is a Children's Pastor), not like "Grandpa Sheriff" minds it.  He's working on his Associate's in Communications, with a Specialty in Chewing Food/Not Choking.  And from the looks of it above, demolishing all things green and yellow (really, who bought him that cake?!?!?).

Happy Birthday Little Ging.  I'll see you next month!

a girls' weekend

There's just something about being left alone.  When Mr. Wookie leaves on business/Naval needs/testicals tethered to his aircraft, it used to spell a sense of mild depression within me.  I wouldn't get out of pajamas, I wouldn't eat anything but Cheerios, and I wouldn't leave the house.  Up until a short while ago, my social circle here sucked.  I know I've mope'd before, but when you leave behind great can only blarg at the reality that with the Navy you get to start life over every 3 years.

But enter Sweet Pea.  And a larger social circle thanks to the Wives Group and my job.  But that's not the focus on this post.  

Now there's a reason to get up in the morning.  Usually because she's whimpering on the other side of the bedroom door, Moooom, I have to use the grass! because the weekends don't come with alarm clocks.  But she's good at making sure we know her needs.

This morning we ventured out for a super walk.  She was all wags.  Okay, nubs.  But you get the picture.  We hang out.  She naps.  A lot.  She bugs me to play ball with her.  Then she finally off'd her last squeaker ball.  We're out.  That one lasted at least 2 weeks.  It was amazing.

The weather this weekend pushed 75+ on Saturday, which was enough for us to open up the back door for ol' fashioned air circulation and some lounging.  I think she's okay with life.

This morning she did rush into the bedroom after I came out in our walking gear looking for Mr. Wookie.  It was sweet.  But sad.  I don't know how she feels when she can't find him.  Does she understand?  I hope she knows he'll be back when he does leave.  It's nothing personal.  It's business.  Literally.  There will be more times like these.  When it's more than a weekend, more than a month, and maybe more than 6 months.

But the welcome homes are always worth it.  Although I might have to glue the nub back on.  It may be wagged off in excessive force.

Friday, February 11

puppy love

I came home from work to an empty house.  No waggin' nub of a tail 3 seconds after I enter.  No "Hi handsome."  It was depressing.  I was...sad.

I had a won't know what you've got till it's gone.

Mr. Wookie and Sweet Pea were only on a walk.  He got home early.  So he got time with the dog before they went out.  Then trekked out and about the neighborhood for a super walk.  But still...I missed my lively 4-legged wags.

She really is a doll.  Here she is lounging her fluffy ass away on my old college couch.  You can see it's....well...ugly.  We call it the "Kurt Cobain" couch.  Do I really need to explain this?  It's ugly.  It was maybe $25 at a garage sale when my brother was in college.  That was...200?...ya...I can't remember (no, I haven't been drinking...I'm in a post-this-week-has-been-busy relaxation phase).

Some mornings she's up when we're up making coffee, so we turn on the gas fireplace so she can lounge while we take in a little caffeine.  Then it's walk time.  Or maybe a second cup of coffee.  Then walk time.  Or, sometimes she's super lazy...and just wants to lounge with a short walk.

When it's super nice outside, we lay in the sun on our porch.

When Mr. Wookie comes home late, she greets him with a super wiggly nub.

And when she's super tired after a 2.5 mile walk (atta Mr. Wookie!), she protests sleep like an infant...then proceeds to fall asleep with her body on her bed...and her head flailed off.

Just don't clap really loudly when The Office is hilarious; she'll stink eye you.

Sunday, February 6

hangover cure.

Let's spend 45 minutes Skyping with my only favorite nephew.  He's 9 days shy of a birthday.  And his first haircut (thank goodness, it's looking a little Billy Ray Cyrus on the backside and needs some attention - we don't want to portray the redneck parts of Oregon, do we?).

And what's also awesome about today?  Mr. Wookie brought me a home a smoothie.  Love.  And he made me nachos.  Double love.  The smoothie introduced vitamins and minerals into this starved body.  And the nachos were the necessary grease.  Good thing Hail and Bails aren't often.

too many white russians last night.

No, not mafia men and caviar fights.  We went to a Big Lebowski party last night.  Complete at a bowling alley.  And a billion white russians.  Or at least enough to only slightly off-set my hypoglycemically balanced sugar levels.

No, really, me.  And some tea.

Last night was a riot.  I wore the best MCHammer pants I had, a sweatshirt turned inside out (which was totally a fad in high school!), and my hair super shitty.  I fit in well, man.

I can now say I've survived a Hail and Bail.  Well, more 'bail' for 2 outgoing members returning back to Norfolk, Virginia (say hi for us, and Downtown Norfolk deserves a hug).  They're going on to bigger and better things.

Taking timer'd pictures of your self, while you're slightly hungover, with a dog who's like I wanna be in the shot too, Mom!, when you just want an IV of fluids is not fun.  Thus you get the one picture.

You're welcome.

Super Bowl is today.  I couldn't care less.  Although food will be nice to eat.  And I'll have many glasses of water.  And I'll hang out with the wives that attend.  Because you never can have too much estrogen...when half of the guys don't have even a friend with benefit.

Oh, let's get on topic of "What to do to piss me off?"

Don't be some lame-ass bitch who comments on this video of my nephew, calling the clip, "very lame."  a.) I'll delete if, 'cuz YOU'RE A LAME ASS BITCH.  b.) Last I checked, YouTube isn't where Scorsese uploads his later Oscar nom.  It's a way to view pictures of that adorable-as-shit Little Man (who's turning one year soon!).  c.) I checked our your page, and it's ridden with other stupid comments you leave on harmless clips. Oh, and they're ridden with typos.  At least my excuse is that I'm hungover, drunk, going to be drinking, asleep, or just not caring.  What's yours?

Yes, I deleted the comment.

Because he's super lame.

And the modern internet is a great way to visit with family when you live 1,000+ miles away thanks to the Navy.  So let me quote Mr. Wookie for a minute, "You're welcome I'm protecting your freedom."  You're probably Communistic.

I guess you can tell I like my family, will protect my family, and will bitch-slap any good-for-nothing troll.  I'll even defend my mother's retarded cat...mainly because she has the ability to feed me with the tastes of trillion angels.  And I like that.

Sweet Pea is yawning up a storm, but swears she wants to play.  Well, which is it?  Sleep or play?  Because sleep sounds good.  So you wanna cuddle?

Yes, someone is still in bed [ahem, Mr. Wookie].

No, Sweet Pea can't come close to getting in our bed.  Nor will we let her.

We call it couch cuddling.  And you best not be wearing nice pants.  Because she drools more than...well...her nicknames include Drools McGee.  Does that paint a picture?

Now will someone make me some toast?  I'm kinda hungry.  And I could use a refill of tea.  It's Yogi Tea Ginger.  Because I'm a ginger.  And that's how I roll.

Yes, I know.  Kinda lame.

Friday, February 4

reason no. 58 I'm not good with secrets

I know someone who went under the of the doctor's office today. - Here's to your colonoscopy.
No, really, I know someone who got a tube up the butt.
Yes, I sent an e-card.
And wished them a "shitty" good time.
Yes, puns are really funny.

I really am a good friend.  When you give birth to your first child, live in my complex, I'm the arch angel of sneaking-in-with-the-help-of-your-husband-and-doing-your-laundry.  I also bring you a 6-pack of beer as a "Yay, your vaheena is off limits for some weeks since it just passed a Mack truck" prize.  

I'll let you bitch about anything and everything military (because, Lord knows I've had my share of complaining about a certain NAS Pensacola being surround by inbred hooligans who don't have all their teeth.  Who wants to live there?).

I'll try to babysit your children, but when they won't actually lay down for their nap and would rather play with each other...that's not my fault.  Their toys are so much cooler than the ones I had.  I'd rather stay up and play also.

I'll drive you to the Emergency Room when you've blown your esophagus and are vomiting blood.  I'll wait there patiently with you, trying not to make New York Fashion Week model comments about bulimia, then make sure you stick to the all-liquids diet for a week.

I'll make you a training guide for your first 5K.

I plan on throwing one will-not-be-tacky-or-else-I'll-die bridal shower.

I at least text on your birthday.  Sometimes.

I'll hold your hair when you puke.

I'll talk you off the ledge when you're staring down depression's door.

And I'm great at buying pregnancy tests, camping outside the bathroom door, and screaming to you "So the verdict? You knocked up or what?"

I'll fly hours to a foreign country to spend 2 weeks of our lives, having fun, drinking local brews, eating weird food, and not wanting to come back.

I'll spend 2 hours squeezing over 20 grapefruits, then sieving the juices, just so your liver has a purpose in life. And that purpose is the best Greyhound this side of the county line.  Dream small, I say.

I'll cheer you on when you're nuts enough to contemplate a full marathon.

I just won't water your plants for you.  I'll kill them.

milspouse fill-in friday is here. cheers!

I'm quietly rockin' my Navy pride by wearing the one piece of Navy flair I own.  Yes, it's true.  We're not a gung-ho Navy household.  It's one sweatshirt for me.  And back in Virginia, I never wore it out of the house.  Mainly because everyone in Virginia is military. But here, we're an anomaly.  So I might get by with walking the dog in it.  It gets better reception than my Oregon State gear - stupid UCLA and USC fans. ;)

But without wasting your time, let's get to my well-crafted answers.  Because I spend hours on my thoughts.  Can't you tell?

1.) Since most of the country has had nasty weather, what has your weather been like this week?
Hahahaahaha, well this week it's been colder.  Like 65 degrees.  Last week it topped out at 75 degrees.  In January.  It was fabulous.  I almost went to the beach. :)  Thank you Southern California!

2.) What is/are your best money saving tip(s)?
Don't buy anything.  Der.

I have a habit of going "shooter on campus" lockdown on my bank account when I'm expecting to halt income (i.e. move to California thanks to the Navy), so the only thing I buy are groceries.  No clothes, no Starbucks, no eating out, not even The Dollar Store.

I'm very stingy with my money.

3.) What was your favorite vehicle you've ever owned?
It was a 2003 Kia Rio.  Silver.  Bought for $4,200 by my parents (the way my parents work is that they'll sponsor one decent car to start our your life - the rest is up to you).  I had an old roommate moving to Japan, so she sold everything.  Car included.

The only thing it didn't have was power steering and A/C.  But my arms were buff, and my hair had the constant wind-blown look.  And it was PAID FOR.

Then I lent the Sheriff my car.  He was rear-ended while stopping at a crosswalk for some pet humans (those are children for those who don't know my lingo).  Car = totaled.  Assclown who hit him.  [Blogged about here]

So I had to take the insurance money on that car, and buy a new-to-me one.  Complete with car payment each month.  Do you know how much that sucks?  [Blogged about here]

And I don't blame my dad.  I blame the jackass who hit him.  Jackass.

4.) What is a question you'd like to see asked in a future fill-in?
What items did you purge pre-PCS that you now secretly miss?
If you could run in any race, which charity would you choose to support?
Where do you secretly wish you could be stationed with you/your SO's line of work (realistically speaking, not everyone can be stationed on NAS Fiji)?

5.) Fill in the blank: You might be a Milspouse if... routinely ask for a military discount because you don't want to give California more money than it deserves.  We did ask to move here, but we didn't ask for a crappy state government.  So we won't be giving more than we have to in state taxes.  Thank you Eddie Bauer for being awesome.  North Face, suck it.

And how do I get around the military discount (since I'm not legally bound and card-carrying)?  Hello, I love me some friendship with military wives.  Then there's shopping with Mr. Wookie.  That's how.

Wednesday, February 2

heartburn: the nemesis to a good time

So, I'm on my second episode of heartburn.  It started last night.  It was evening, I got home from work on time, and I was lacing up the sneakers for a 2 mile run (per my training guide)...but the esophagus/sternum area was not happy.

The first time I experienced heartburn was Christmas this last year.  Someone got a little overambitious with the ham.  I may, or may, not have eaten more than my stomach could hold.  But it was delicious.  I had to have it.  But then, this uncomfortable feeling set in.  Oi, what's that?  OMG, is this heartburn?  This is what that shit feels like?  Oh, I sooo feel for those pregnant ladies who get it everyday.  This sucks.  I'm dying!  Mooooom, where are the Tums!?

But less than 6 hours later, a few Tums, I was good to go.  The Mario Kart competition continued.  It was no big deal.  I just laid low from ham for awhile.  Like I haven't touched it since.  Bloody pig...

This bout is different.  I had it last night.  It kept me company on my run.  Hi, My name is Heartburn, I like long walks on the beach, Burt Reynolds' chest hair, and watching lesbians fight over "Who's the man today?"  It was still there when I crawled into bed.  So I slept in the semi-reclined position.  It was there this morning.  So I laid off the coffe...*snore*, but I still don't feel awake.  And it was there when I walked into Target for some generic Tums.  Yes, generic was half the price of Tums.

And because I'm a doctor, I consulted WebMD last amidst my suffering.

Did you have any mint?
Yes, I had a cup of peppermint tea around Noon yesterday.  It was a Christmas gift from Mama Wook, and I was wanting some fresh breath.  Sue me...

Did you have any coffee?
Hahaha, this is a trick question, right?  Yes, I had coffee.  Does the Pope wear a giant hat?  What Oregonian or Washingtonian doesn't start their morning with Certified Organic, Rainforest Alliance, shade-grown coffee?

Did you have any dairy?
Erm, yes, half 'n half does go in my coffee.  Der...  Oh, and I had a string cheese at work.  Double der...

Did you have any chocolate?
Guilty.  I'm a girl.

Did you have any alcohol?
Do I have to answer this one?  Yes, I had a beer after my run.  It was Alaskan Amber, that makes it okay, right?  And no it didn't neutralize my training.  They say to eat protein and carbs post-run.  Nuts and beer.  That works!

Did you have any acidic foods?
Umm, well the calzone Mr. Wookie made was delicious.  But tomato sauce is acidic.  So yes.  Want me to barf it up?  Too bad!

I feel like I have the never-ending pasta bowl at Olive Garden defeat of my upper stomach valve.  I've been uncomfortable all morning.  I don't know if you can overdose on antacid tablets, but I may try (that and my bones will grow spurs I'm inhaling so much calcium).  I even bought the over-the-counter generic Prilosec, incase the generic Tums can't do it.  Then if I'm really desperate, there's always apple wine vinegar.  I mean, I know I'm great at taking shots.  But I'd rather have tequila.  Or maybe that'll be a chaser.  Oooo, I think I'm on to something here.  Dr. Mrs. Wookie.  Sounds good; the title of my new career and the tequila.