the deep secret we've been keeping.

There's no easy way to write this post. Instead, I'd much rather hide beneath a rock and pretend life didn't hate me so much. But instead I'm kicked when I'm down and life just strolls on.

This picture isn't a joke. This is our life. For the last almost-couple weeks we've hid a deep, dark secret. One where the normal Mrs. Wookie would joke that the secret involved a pregnancy stick and a bottle of tequila. But instead, this secret has made us sick to our stomachs, dry heaving, and crying for the first few days.

We've been forced to say 'goodbye' to our beloved Bulldog. We've been forced begin a life without the wag of a nubbin' tail. And we were forced to escape to a weekend in San Diego to try and forget about the sadness that faced our home back at NAS Just-North-of-Malibu. Thank goodness San Diego has a lot of distractions, and a lot of good bars.

Sweet Pea passed away just short of two weeks ago. And I've never been in more emotional pain. I've never felt like my heart had crumbled within my body, leaving a swollen mental state that I didn't get to hold her as she passed away.

I don't like that animals prefer to cross over alone. It's not fair. They think they don't want to cause their owners grief and sorrow - but I know that lies more in the pain that I feel now. I would have wanted to know her last breathe, to rub her belly, scratch her head, tell her how much I loved her, what she meant to us, and how we'll absolutely never forget her. But I didn't. We had to do it the 'natural' way - and that means she passed away without letting us know, thanking us for the hospitality we provided over the last year and a half, and that she was ever thankful for the treats, hugs, appropriate scolds, and plentiful room on the bed when Mr. Wookie was gone.

I've tried to write this post in my head a million times over, but it never gets any easier. There's no more beautiful way than to describe Sweet Pea's last day in a home that loved her. She passed away on her favorite rug, on the floor between where her owners loved to give her extensive belly rubs and let her lick the steak juice from their plates. It looked like she just went to sleep - and I still wanted to kiss her cute, smooshy face.

And now she's gone.

No more thoughts of 'How do we PCS with a dog?' No more car rides to run random errands. No more stuffing Kong treats. And no more strategically leaving the bedroom door  cracked so she's nose it open and join her mom and dad.

I never imagined that she was older than she was. We never imagined that she wasn't young and spry when not a grey hair was on her muzzle and her age never showed. And when Bulldogs don't show their age or wear 'n tear in life, it's hard to know their age when they've been rescued until their time comes. They're durable and hearty and she was that way until the very end. So that age guesstimate of 3 or 4 was clearly a little short.

She was my everything.

I've never cried so hard in my life. I've never wept to a dog asking, "Sweet Pea, wake up" and been so disheartened. I've never felt so helpless in my life as we tearfully gathered up the bin of treats, the food dishes, the bedding, the hair brush, and everything else that had fur stuck to it. I didn't want to say goodbye when we dropped 'her' off at the emergency vet care office, signing away the paperwork to have her cremated, knowing I couldn't just dispose of her like it's just carbon. I dry-heaved knowing that our life drastically changed...for the worse. My dear puppy angel....is truly an angel now.

But now I'm fearing and loathing life. Mr. Wookie leaves very shortly for a fair amount of the summer and I've left picking up the pieces of my broken heart for a dog passing before I was ready. I'm very bitter. All I want to do is take a picture of life and target practice. Because I feel like it is shitting on me right now. And I'm not happy.

This is the hardest thing we've ever had to do. So we apologize for the silence, but in all honesty, we deserve it.

This will be a multi-part theme, so please don't wonder if I don't answer your questions right away.

Who wants a SoCal roadtrip???

Sometimes you need a little vacation. And with Mr. Wookie stepping aboard the USS Dorm-Like Living this summer, the Navy has granted some well-earned leave for this aviator. Mr. Wookie has been bustin' his chops at work in sims, on boat detachments, and in the hangar with his sailors. And with a massed collection of leave staring him in the face, Mr. Wookie felt like having a "staycation" this mornth. But first a long weekend in the "Whale's Vagina."

Perfect. We need a getaway.

No, these aren't tears of joy...

1.) Blogger apparently hates me.


2.) This blog template apparently hates me.


c.) People who love to comment on this blog...can't...because of said template that hates me.


Just know I have construction crews working on this like it's national security. Because you people obviously need to be informed that I have an open bottle of cheap wine and I intend to use it. 

So about that new blog design...

Finally. Finally. Finally. Finally. Finally. Finally. Finally. Finally. Finally. Finally.


New blog design, new pension for blogging? Right? Isn't that how that works? It's kinda like buying a new pair of running shoes to get back on the wagon (those are due to be delivered the end of this week), or hiring a maid service to clean your house that way you're inspired to keep it up (nope, no example of that - just a dream), or unloading the 'dead bananas' in your freezer so muffins can be made (yup, on the counter).


I'm sorry - there's just been a funk about the blog lately that I haven't wanted to deal with. For the last couple months, I just haven't wanted to talk to you (please don't judge). I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if I was still entertaining. I'm just not a controversial or pivotal blogger like others who have worn scuff marks on their soapboxes. Instead, my life is mocking...well...my life. I tell you 'how difficult' it is to find a pair of Naturalizer sandals on sale for 20% (seriously, yesterday...such a hard decision), or how I have a new vodka to try, or that I found a delicious Cajun shrimp recipe that uses enough garlic to keep vampires away for months.


But then I realized, I DON'T WANT TO BLOG TO BE PIVOTAL. I want to blog because I'm funny. I want to keep our families informed of our open door policy to visitors, how 'terrible' it is to live in (usually) sunny California, how my life can be so boring yet so riviting at the same time when I tell you our next vacation is to San Diego (not Hawaii, or somewhere exotic- but a 3-hour roadtrip).


Sometimes I forget who I write to - like I feel the onslaught of readers will judge me if I say the wrong thing, that my opinion is never good enough, or that I'm not enduring some trying time in my life that gives me street cred in the blogosphere.


Please. I live a cozy life. I have a great man in the house. Our dog is 80% fabulous. My family is just peachy. I wish I could see more of Mr. Wookie's (they just live so far!). My niece and nephew make me contemplate procreation based off their adorability alone - but for now, I like sleeping in, snuggling next to Mr. Wookie in the morning, or curling up with Sweet Pea and a blanket on the couch, and not putting a hiatus on libations because a parasitic symbiote requires clean circulation.


So let's put this new design to use and fully sweep the corners of the blog. All this blogging is making my hands cramp though - time to ice them...around a cold beer. ;)

Happy Mother's Day

I was first in "the queue" this morning as I was up and at 'em to call my mom and wish her a Happy Mother's Day from cloudy Southern California. While Mother's Day isn't one where I normally feel the need to book airline tickets (unlike my birthday and Christmas when we can), so usually a phone call is routine. Oh, and let's not forget a little gifting ...which will be there whenever because our genes are never known for being on time. :)

Baby Sister described our mom to a "T."

I feel she did leave out a few points though.

When you teach your eldest daughter to be staunchly independent - this'll backfire on you. She'll see the world,  move in with her boyfriend, and contribute 12% to her retirement fund, instead of marrying rich, having gobs of children, and keeping the perfect house. But hey, Mom, there's still time to marry rich. I'm in SoCal - there's plenty of money here!

Another memory is...

Growing up in a house when the Sheriff can be gone for multiple nights on business, there's nothing like the smell of breakfast for dinner. Pancakes, bacon and eggs, waffles, etc.,...this is something I continue to do myself when Mr. Wookie has night flights, TADs, or detachments. And now thanks to Pinterest, pancakes can come in so many shapes and styles now.....

And...

Just because you're a mom, doesn't mean you need "mom jeans." Phew.

How does someone keep their sanity with 4 kids?? Seriously...??? I have no idea.

Baby Sister: From large to in charge.

Could I be any prouder??

No, I don't need anger management.

It may come as a surprise that sometimes attitude can get into the way of the great, friendly persona that accompanies this Ginger nature. Maybe you know a Ging or have heard elusive tales to their behavior when the Viking genetics self-expose and you're left scratching your head wondering why there's this tall, muscle-ripped Ginger in a bear pelt throwing things around like Eric the Red just lost a battle.

I've yelled at lamps that are in my way when I'm attempting my once-a-lightyear cleaning frenzy, I've kicked backpacks that were foolishly put in my way (by myself), stubbed toes over mid-century furniture that I felt should have faced lynching than hurt one of my appendages, and yelled at the car window when Mama Ging rolled it up on my hand (yeah, that was a fun experience).

I. can't. help. it.

All this time, I hear things like:

1.) Mrs. Wookie, you have anger issues.

2.) Mrs. Wookie, maybe you should have put that pair of shoes right in the doorway.

3.) Mrs. Wookie, maybe if you cleaned up more than once a decade.

4.) Mrs. Wookie, maybe (just fill in the blank with something I don't need to do).

But wait - what's this??? I now hear a genetically-tied individual (that's a family member) has the same disease....and is cursing at objects?!?

FRANKENSTEIN LAUGH: MUHAHAHAHAAH

I love it. That means my genetics aren't mutations, but in fact life lessons that sometimes shit just needs to get yelled at. It means I'm actually family to my family and not "found in the produce department of the grocery store." (I mean, have you seen the size of my eyes...they're like grapefruit). It makes you feel better. And when you feel better, you do better in school/make more money/inherit trust funds/die happy. Yes, in that order (or #3 can occur first - no big deal).

So when this gem of a conversation landed on my wall, I felt like the Sanderson sisters, Come little children, I'll take thee away...

Friday Fill-In and a Work Potluck

You guessed it, today I have a work potluck. I signed up for...a fruit tray! I know, I know, how terribly boring. But seriously...you know how tiring it is to see dessert, after dessert, as opposed to fiber, nutrition, and taste. VERY TIRING!!! So I'm bringing healthy eating back...a little. In the form of natural sugars skewed on skewers. Because as the new girl, I'm making things tre chic.


But let's get to some answers, and clear the cobwebs that have occurred since my last Friday Fill-In. Sorry folks, my Fridays have been a lot of solo drinking, dog snuggling, and hammock time while Sweet Pea lounges in the shade on the concrete like a junkyard dog.


1. What’s one thing in the past month you would have changed?


Umm, how about this week...one thing I would have changed this week. How about my behavior yesterday morning. I woke up on the WRONG side of the bed. Mix that with Mr. Wookie cuddling up next to me saying mornings where PT is cancelled is the best because he gets an extra 20 minutes to curl up next to me. You think, "Aww, how sweet!" right? Or...you freak out, shriek that he woke you up before your alarm, now you're losing out on sleep, are obviously a little hormonal thanks to the time of the month, and just an overall monster despite the fact he was on the boat less than a week prior. Welcome home, babe, welcome home.


I've profusely apologized (I was a bit of a bitch yesterday), and offered him extended cocktail refill services. He in turn told me I reminded him of Hannibal Lecter. I chewed on him with a side of fava beans apparently.

2. What was your favorite thing that happened in April?

April was pretty boring, minus VEGAS with the family. Oh yeah...YOU NEED PROOF OF THAT DON'T YOU!? Let me just get tech support out here so I can blog from somewhere that's not Mr. Wookie's Global Domination Station (his chair is uncomfortable, it's not a laptop - because beggars can totally be choosers, right?).

3. What are your plans for Memorial Day?

I might be watching Mr. Wookie work that day. Or I might be part of a 'skeleton crew' making time and a half while playing Solitaire at work. Either or, not a bad day. :)

4. Have you ever traveled Space A? If yes, where… if no, would you ever try it?

Nope. Never Space A, never standby (wink, Accidental Olympian), and never Southwest (please! I'll pay more for my seat to ensure I'm in front of the wing [prevents motion sickness], have a window seat, and board before Grandma and her stoma).

5. What are you looking forward to in May?

It's been called "Maycation" by Uncle Sam for a reason, because afterwards is the shit. Months gone. Few weeks here. Then deployment, which contains...you guessed it...more months gone.

A laptop without Internet is merely an expensive paperweight.

I'm coming down from my fume, but sometimes when life hands you lemons...you just want to throw them at someone's head, even if it is Mr. Wookie, and not care if he loses an eye. Blogging. It's a selfish game. I want to talk about my day, and the Internet is screwing that up for me. Doesn't it care that I went to the dentist today for a little attention, came back to work under the effects of a numb face, and wondering if people on the other end of the phone call think I've hit the 'It's 5 o'clock somewhere' concept at my desk. Umm...no, not drunk, just impaired in another capacity.


Either way, Internet has been spotty since Sunday (thanks to our provider). Why is it that each area only has one provider for shitty Internet (and is Internet supposed to be capitalized?)? Are they trying to just piss people off. Well either way, it was only that Mr. Wookie was able to have things working properly was Time Warner spared my seething phone call of anger and pissidness (real word). I have a phone voice. I can connive you into feeling terrible about my story. I can convince you to upgrading my shipment to Next Day Air (true story). I can dazzle you with my brilliance. Dance, puppet, dance.


But now...it's not them. It's my laptop. First it was a battery issue. I wanted more. There's me getting greedy again. And now, is it too much to ask for effin' connectivity so I can blog from somewhere other than Mr. Wookie's World Headquarters of Videogame Dominance??? I'm about ready to throw the laptop out the window and start chiseling these updates on stone in order to be heard.


This obviously has me researching any and all other options available to make me and my computer happy. I don't want a 2-year contract a la AT&T. I don't want something that resembles Will Smith's phone in Fresh Prince connected to my USB port. But I want something that will allow me to lounge on my couch, in my pajama pants, and not be stuck in Mr. Wookie's very-uncomfortable chair. Now, I know I bitched about being stuck on the couch when I didn't have a battery that would hold a charge...and so you know, I'm. eating. my. words. Although Mr. Wookie's desk is closer to the kitchen and thusly...(you guessed it)...closer to the wine that is helping calm me down. Mom, I promise it's not a dependency. It's a necessity. Wink.


But hey - we're starting off May right! With a blogpost! And maybe more deep thoughts will come your way this week. Or, you'll continue to hear my wrath of a laptop's connection gone AWOL. Or both. :)