Words that make Wookie & Co shutter.

"We're almost out of booze."


These words were out of Mr. Wookie's mouth, as he was assessing our stash of supplies.  This is never a good sign.  But it's not like we're bone-dry.  But we'll need to supply the bar before we have another round of house guests.  Not that we have plans for house guests anytime soon.  But we're more than welcome to host you.  If you don't mind a pull-out couch, and joining me for Sunrise Yoga on Saturdays.  And if I have to iron your shirt, you totally owe me a footrub.


"Do you babysit?"


Umm, no.  Somehow the extensive babysitting capacity seemed to jumped over this blogger.  Brother = great Children's Pastor.  Middle Sister and Baby Sister = amazeballs with children.  Mrs. Wookie = umm, I can totally hang out with you while your child naps.  And make us cocktails.  Every mom needs a friend like me.  I bring you back to your roots.  Make you feel human again.  Allow you to speak in terms more than "tummy time" and G-Diapers (which are awesome, by the way).

Thanks to this weekend my internal clock is all off and I'm still up!

Friday evening was superb.  What was supposed to be a dinner with Mr. Wookie and a friend, turned into the friend getting drunk (independently) and ditching us for our plans.  So date night it was!  We hit up the quaint Eastern European eatery a couple blocks away, while sharing a romantic bottle of Hungarian wine.  I indulged in some insane veal cordon bleu (while saving half for lunch this week at work), and staved off the feelings for dessert.  Because no one likes a bloated, pregnant-looking stomach in a sleek pencil skirt.  This is date night after all, not a babymoon.


But then date night turned typical night.  We stopped by our watering hole for a nightcap, when who do we run into.  Drunk friend.  Still drunk.  Looking to drink more.  Why sure, we'd love to join your table.  Nevermind our stylish duds and desire to gaze longingly into each others' eyes (just kidding - because barf!).


So in the couple hours we spent being entertained by someone who had been drinking since this afternoon, I imbibed in a vodka tonic and a beer.  The only thing that could have been better is that the live music could have known more Elton John.  He only had one song in his repertoire.  Really???  One song?  And it's "Daniel?"  Lame.  Next time up your ante.

Saturday we loaded up for an afternoon at the beach.  Mr. Wookie hates the beach.  I love the beach.  Because Oregon's beaches are cold as balls, and this is a welcome change.  And it's not that I wanted to lay out and crispy my skin.  I just wanted to a.) get the hell outta the house (I get cabin fever sometimes), and b.) we haven't hit the beach this year at all and the weather has been great.

Little did he know this scowl would return.  Just at we're coming up on Base Entry, he realizes his ID isn't in his wallet.  Cue cursing.  So on base we didn't go.  Back to the civilian neck of the beach.

But before we got there, we had to gaggle the copious amount of ROTC students.  Oh, ROTC.  The memories of it all.  The musters, the PRTs, the Balls, the Northwest Navy competitions, the inspections, the projects, the Commissionings, and the friendships.  Not that I was in ROTC.  That's just where Mr. Wookie and I begin.  Good times!

Yes, I know, I need skin tone.  And yes, I know, that's like asking Casper to change his complexion.  So after about 15 minutes on the beach (that's all I needed), we went in search of lunch.  I was super in the mood for a salad.  Yes, a salad.  Aka rabbit food.  Aka produce.  Aka delicious.  So to Baker's Crust we went.  And documentation wasn't allowed because I didn't give myself time to get the camera out.  It. was. gone.

After lunch, we hit up Total Wine to add to our supply.  $50 later, these puppies came home with us.  And no, this is not a normal expenditure in the Wookie & Co. house.  We were kinda hoping to make up the Date Night turned not-so-Date-Night by having a cheese and wine fest on the couch while watching a movie (thus the white wine).  A Chilean Malbec and a sweet Shiraz just-so-happened into our arms too.  And the 30th anniversary beer of Sierra Nevada.  And a Navy-inspired Heavy Seas Imperial Stout.  Woops.


And Happy May Day/Derby Day!  We didn't tune into the under-two-minutes-worth-of-excitement.  TWSS.  I actually complete forgot it was yesterday until today.  Goes to show I'm not a horse racing fan.  That and if they have to kill another horse on the track, I'd probably lose it and join PETA's campaign.  Okay, just kidding on that last part.  I actually did look into working there (since they're stationed out of Norfolk), but the whole adherence to a vegan lifestyle just doesn't work for us.  We're proud omnivores here.


But enough of the blogging, since it's almost Midnight!  Good night!

Outer Banks Adventure: Part Deux

Saturday night we intended to cut a rug.  And by that, I mean that we failed.  Hard.  The blender was broken, so we used the food processor.  Nothing says delicious like icebergs in your margarita.  And about the same time Evolution ended, I was asleep with my head in Mr. Wookie's lap...and he had his head zonked to the side.  One margarita each and we were out.  Apparently we were tired.  How sad.  I don't even think we hit Midnight.


But Sunday was a new day for adventure, and we decided to take our time making it home.

As you see, there's absolutely zero terrain here.

First order of business on the drive home...Cape Hatteras Lighthouse.  Unbeknown to us, this lighthouse is hot shit.  Umm, it's just a lighthouse.  Well apparently it's the tallest lighthouse in the US.  Oh, right, I forgot that bit in my elementary history lessons not revolving around the Oregon Trail.  So anyways, we made the pit stop to check it out.  This was after Mr. Wookie called me a Country Bumpkin for not knowing this.

Vanna White, eat your heart out.

And for $7, you could climb to the top.  Umm, that's okay.   There's not really much to see.  Flat land, shoreline, water...the end, right?  So we passed.  Can you tell I miss terrain?

But over to the left, about a 100 yards off the base, were these cute little houses.  After some researching, the house on the right belonged to the Lighthouse Keeper's family.  The house on the left were Coast Guard barracks.

Mr. Wookie Googling the houses.

How to Put Up Ugly Rain Spouts 101

Next stop: Kitty Hawk, NC (Home of the Wright Brothers' First Flight!)


We hopped back into the Jeep and headed the 30-45-60 minutes (I can't remember for the life of me!) up the Outer Banks to the National Park where Wilbur and Orville got their flight on.  We toured the museum dedicated to their lives, and I couldn't help but have my Gay-Dar go off.  I know, I know...historical outings shouldn't warrant speculation on sexual orientation.  But...seriously...2 guys...who never married...and lived together...weren't gay?!?  Riiiiiight.

But anyways, here you have a dedication to their lives.  The 2 buildings were their home and hangar.  Their initial flight trials took off from the base of the hill, and extended past the structures (out of frame).

The first 3 marks are their first 3 attempts.  Piss poor compared to their long-shot 4th flight.

What other way to enjoy history than paving over it and allowing Man to trudge atop.

Almost there...

And alas, we headed back home.  Not a bad weekend on a whim.  It was definitely something to add to our traveling accomplishments, as the Outer Banks is a Vacation Mecca to those on the Eastern Seaboard.  We came, we saw, we conquered.  Who knows where we'll travel to next!  We're always open to suggestions!

Once upon a time it was Administrative Professionals' Day. And I am that.

Ever had your boss offer her vacation home as a gift for Admin Profesh Day?  I can now say, "I have."

Remember this house?  Well that's her house.  Her second house.  Her vacation destination house.  Her sanctuary.  Her home away from her normal home.  Her baby.  And for last weekend, it was ours.  And it was great.  Minus the weather wasn't completely cooperative.  But like people fail to realize...we're from Oregon.  A little drizzle doesn't kill you!

So where are the Outer Banks?  It's this strip o' land that's technically North Carolina, but in reality...it's just a thin ass strip of land waiting for a hurricane/tropical storm/severe-Al-Gore-global-warming to wipe it out.  I don't think my mother would be on board with this vacation.

All 7 feet above sea level.

Friday was spent at work.  Standard.  From there, I rushed home, packed, grabbed some snacks, Mr. Wookie hit up the liquor store, and we were ready for the 3-hour trek South.  We got in a little late.  But we had enough time to unpack, have a nightcap, listen to the gorgeous waves, and fall asleep knowing we were very fortunate to vacation in such style (for free!).


Saturday morning was ADVENTURE DAY.  And with that, we headed South to take the ferry to Ocracoke (another small-ass island only navigable by ferry or aircraft - so good luck).

Perfect timing by Mr. Wookie as we barely wait 5 minutes before we load up onto the ferry.  And for some reason, the ferry system wasn't charging.  Maybe it was Winter Hours, but the free price tag was a great start to our day. 

What's a car ride without snacks (jerkey!)? 

Southern portion of Outer Banks = McMansions.

The 5-mile ferry ride took about a half hour total.  And thankfully Mr. Wookie closed the sunroof, otherwise someone's arm (mine) would have experienced the birds.  And Ocracoke was a complete break from reality as there wasn't even cell service (and it's not like we could have gotten lost - there's one road, and the island is only 13 miles long).  The island is completely dependent on tourism, and it's the infamous hide-a-way of Blackbeard the Pirate!  Argg!!! 

Mr. Wookie wanted to rent scooters.  The whole town could be walked in 20 minutes.  Scooters weren't really necessary to cover that terrain.  Although some other tourists were complaining about having to walk.  Lazies!  No wonder the US has a obesity epidemic.

 Thank goodness for the signs to the lighthouse!

The one place you get groceries.  And they were closed that day.  Hope you weren't out of toilet paper!

So this is their infamous lighthouse.  It's one of the longest still-working lighthouses in the Outer Banks.

Now I apologize if this offends you...but I thought it to be kinda weird to have Gramps and Granny buried in your front yard?  Doesn't that hurt your resale value?  What if it floods?  Will they be popping up outta the ground a la Poltergeist????


Anyways...the reason for our visit to Ocracoke: Blackbeard.  This island was his hide-out as it allowed him the perfect coverage to view ships from afar before determining to take their plunder.  And it's also where he met his demise.

But in order to get to where he bit the dirt, you must take a hike through the foliage.

We don't have Poison Ivy in Oregon (at least, not where I'm from), so we made careful notes to not use it as a natural sunblock.

Mr. Wookie paying his respects to the Pirate.

Haha, just kidding!  He was admiring the fishies. 

And, of course, the one time he wants to take a picture, I have a sneezing/hacking/coughing/mucus fit.  Thanks Mr. Wookie.  You document my illness so well.  Now where were you when I yacked up that green boogie last week?  The blog could have definitely used that! 

So Middle Sister hates stick family.  They kill me.  I think they're hysterical.  I've debating getting one.  But I'm not sure if they have a vodka tonic to put on my window also.


Thanks to Mr. Wookie's dad, we landed at a great place for lunch.  It's called Howard's Pub.  Howard's is a beachy pub with over 200 beers.  And because North Carolina isn't Communist (Virginia is with their beer importing), I was able to indulge in some West Coast flavors.

Oh, I'm sorry, you have complete and utter love for all things Oregon license plate and Oregon State??  Oh, well then, looks like I'll have to stay for 2 beers.  To make it worth your effort, and all.

Yes, 2 pint glasses came home with us.  And no, we didn't steal them.  We bought them like up-standing citizens.  This time.

I'd say, "Let's play a game and have you spot the error."  But, not to deter some new readers from utter confusion, I'll just tell you.  New Belgium 1554 is NOT from Holland, MI.  It's from Fort Collins, CO.  I know this people I have a slight obsession with this company.  I would have brought it up to Management, but I feel that maybe a letter to the owner will warrant more Howard's swag.  Or at least, that's what I'm holding out for. 

And because Mr. Wookie was so kind to take the camera for documentation of Heaven.

And so now comes story time.  The ferry system leaves on the hour, every hour.  And about 40 minutes till, we decided to make the trek back to the loading station.  And we're driving, and driving.  Meanwhile, some Gramps McGee decides to go slower than BALLS.  Like patient Oregonians on a meaningless stroll, we don't care that his ankle/gas pedal doesn't work...so we just go with it.  Well, some people *coughTHEDOUCHEINTHETRUCKcough* deem it necessary to burn by us.  Okay, whatever asshole, you flip your truck after skidding on sand.  Your death = not my issue.  Well fast forward to loading on the ferry.  We're the last vehicle TO NOT MAKE IT ON.  W.T.F???  Mr. Wookie = PISSED!  Irate.  Livid.  I...had to use the bathroom (remember, 2 pints), so I couldn't care less.  So now I know...pass as many people as you can so you're not THOSE PEOPLE at the loading dock.


Thank goodness another ferry was cycling through in a half hour.

Mr. Wookie, after calming down.

And we had cell service again!

Yes, Mr. Wookie felt the need to yell at the ocean for getting saltwater on his car.  Because the ocean will listen.  And totally refund you on your next car wash.

This is what he does.  He takes unsuspecting photos, doesn't tell me, then I die laughing when I upload them. 

And in case your wonder what the view was like from the house, here it is.

While it's not great to be atop your neighbors, just look at where you are.  It's not like you'll have an episode of Cops filmed next door.  If anything, it'll be Blow.


It's the perfect vacation destination if you want to do NOTHING.  Beach, book, beer, and Mr. Wookie.  Okay, well, not this weekend, as it was perfect jean weather.  But you get the idea.


Stay tuned for Part 2!  Sunday = more adventure and one helluva history lesson!