Happy 27th Birthday, Mr. Wookie.

Hey you, with your flying shades on, how you doing? You enjoying your birthday on the boat? With a 'stache that's hopefully filling in nicely since I've requested you return with it that fateful day you either fly in from the ship, or ride the boat into dock like a 8-second steer buck.


I can't remember the last time we were apart for his birthday? It had to have been years ago since this is our first active Navy squadron with an actual boat to interrupt life. And it was pretty much anti-climactic. I emailed Mr. Wookie this morning, doing my best to song and dance in written word without causing so much of a ruckus that the boat email Nazis would think I was on halucinogenic drugs and thusly ban my communication. We have had emails blocked due to information, but I like to say now we have a decent code dialogue to appeal our needs of his location, etc. That and it's great to be friends with the Commanding Officer's Wife - I know things before Mr. Wookie sometimes does. :)


I will say...I'm starting to get excited about this semi-homecoming, although ditching my work might be hard. Who am I kidding? I even told my boss that she'll have limited notice that, "I'm not coming in for like 2 days. Bye!" I've given her a window of 5 days where he's due home, and a 2-hour notice that I'm finishing my work and clocking out - I've got a 'stached Junior Officer to welcome home with a bottle of bourbon.


It will be nice sharing the cooking responsibility. I'm super excited about that. But let's be honest, there's a birthday dinner to be had...so that'll delay any kitchen mess for at least another day (yay). So yeah, I'll enjoying his hiatus on land...before he leaves me again. But let's not look down already. Let's look up.


Mr. Wookie, you're now 27. You're my age when we moved to California. You're employed at 27. I wasn't (not bitter, no). You've tasted more Scotch that my family combined. You make a mean dirty martini. Your first chateaubriand was legendary. You definitely know how to fly (that's in style with cocktails, when not working). And you're a badass who's paid off that hefty Navy loan acquired at 22 just to survive. Seriously, congrats.


I. love. you. (And hopefully that caterpillar on your face.)


Now come home - I miss drinking with people. I've become accustomed to an ass-imprint on my sofa watching Season 2 (now) of Felicity and I could use more Cheers. Oh, and I promise there will be gifts here. Promise.


Can we T-? yet?? Nope. We've still got time. Oh, well there's always my birthday you can be around for. Right?


Checking calendar. Shit. Are you kidding me??