Please scroll down for my Wordless Wednesday, and for a post asking YOU to help me.
Just kidding! I love telling you guys about my weirdness. But only when you ask me to, right?
I was tagged my mi amiga, My Two Cents to tell you 6 weird things... Believe it or not, I am running out of weird things to tell you about. *Ponders a bit*
1. I like to sing in silly voices, my favorite is a goofy falsetto.
2. I do this because it amuses me, but my family thinks it's for their entertainment. By the way, they aren't very entertained by it anymore*snort*.
3. I used to collect things when I worked because I have OCD, but can't afford to anymore and have cut myself off from collecting. I would obsess about one thing, then eventually get tired of it and move on. Tea cups, lipstick, perfume, purses, shoes, Boyd's Bears, art supplies...I still have OCD, I just obsess about buying my kids stuff now. I still struggle with it, and it annoys me.
4. I am obsessed with the PC game The Sims 2, though my obsession for blogging and Photoshopping has temporarily taken it's place. I have downloaded thousands and thousands of user created content to put in my game, to the point that my game wouldn't load. I have made things for the game including walls and floors, area rugs, neighborhoods, houses, and pets. The little animated movie of the chick eating pizza at the bottom of my blog is Sim Me. Sim Me is chunky like the real me, with freckles. All you Sim Freaks out there, let me hear you HOLLA! OK, I am probably freaking you out right now... moving right along...
5. I MUST eat something sweet, usually chocolate, after eating something spicy.
6. Cats and children are usually drawn to me. Probably because they can feel that I find cuties- fur or not- irresistible. this was the case when we were infertile, which made our infertility even more heart breaking.
There... that wasn't so hard! Since most of the bloggers I know have already done this and sometimes many times over- or they simply choose to share their weirdness on a regular basis, I wont be tagging anyone. I had fun doing it My Two Cents, thanks for tagging me! :D
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
I need help...
No- not like that.
OK, maybe... :O) No really, I have a problem with making decisions. I can't. I mean I do eventually, but usually after a lot procrastinating and worrying about making the wrong choice.
Even over silly things like blog templates. As you know, I have only been blogging for almost a year and my template has changed at least 7 times. It's like me and moving, I get the itch to move about every 2-3 years. Anyway... I love the cow, but I need something lighter to suit my mood. This one is a little too dark for me anymore.
I love to rip apart templates to see if I can make them Blogspot friendly, but I can't decide. Help! I am going to let you guys decide. Click them to see more detail. *edit: I am updating the tallies to see which one is going to make the cut :O) *
1. OK, first we have a sweet little alligator. :D See the template in action here. I will probably have to rip it, and rebuild so it wont look exactly like that. Votes: 5
2. This one is called Spring... so ready. Can't find the preview, sorry
3. Beautiful disaster, simple colors yet intricate pattern. Votes: 5
Sorry guys, about taking this one out of the running, it has frames which I hate. That means that my blog content would actually have scroll bars on it, eccch. I didn't realize until I tried it out.
4. Another intricate pattern, but monochromatic. Springy!
5. Joyride, old looking (like me), funky (like me, more ways than one), and a little strange (um, like me). I luff it!
Votes: 2
6.Perky, pretty, light and fluffy... too perky? rip, rip... Votes: 1
7. Also light and fluffy, pink, simple. Too pink? Is there such a thing? Votes: 2
8.Hmmm... Almost Somewhat Positive comes to mind. :D
Votes: 2
9.Here is another one that makes me think of ASP... I really like this one. I wuv wainbows, can you tell? I wuv kittens too, but no kittens this time :D Votes: 2
10. There is a sexy black cat though. I have this in a desktop wallpaper... it's fun-kay, and has a black cat like my momma kitty Numa.
OK, now that I have bored the pants off of you, tell me. PLEASE! Help me. I can't choose. Those of you who have the same problem as me, and have trouble deciding what shade of blue socks will perfectly match your sweater... need not attempt it. :OP
Oh, you know who you are ;O)
OK, maybe... :O) No really, I have a problem with making decisions. I can't. I mean I do eventually, but usually after a lot procrastinating and worrying about making the wrong choice.
Even over silly things like blog templates. As you know, I have only been blogging for almost a year and my template has changed at least 7 times. It's like me and moving, I get the itch to move about every 2-3 years. Anyway... I love the cow, but I need something lighter to suit my mood. This one is a little too dark for me anymore.
I love to rip apart templates to see if I can make them Blogspot friendly, but I can't decide. Help! I am going to let you guys decide. Click them to see more detail. *edit: I am updating the tallies to see which one is going to make the cut :O) *
1. OK, first we have a sweet little alligator. :D See the template in action here. I will probably have to rip it, and rebuild so it wont look exactly like that. Votes: 5
2. This one is called Spring... so ready. Can't find the preview, sorry
4. Another intricate pattern, but monochromatic. Springy!
5. Joyride, old looking (like me), funky (like me, more ways than one), and a little strange (um, like me). I luff it!
Votes: 2
6.Perky, pretty, light and fluffy... too perky? rip, rip... Votes: 1
7. Also light and fluffy, pink, simple. Too pink? Is there such a thing? Votes: 2
8.Hmmm... Almost Somewhat Positive comes to mind. :D
Votes: 2
9.Here is another one that makes me think of ASP... I really like this one. I wuv wainbows, can you tell? I wuv kittens too, but no kittens this time :D Votes: 2
10. There is a sexy black cat though. I have this in a desktop wallpaper... it's fun-kay, and has a black cat like my momma kitty Numa.
OK, now that I have bored the pants off of you, tell me. PLEASE! Help me. I can't choose. Those of you who have the same problem as me, and have trouble deciding what shade of blue socks will perfectly match your sweater... need not attempt it. :OP
Oh, you know who you are ;O)
A Perfect Post for January
I know some of you may have already read this but I needed to post it again since January is coming to a close, and all of the nominees will be listed at Petroville on February 1st. :O)
On January 3rd, Swampwitch wrote about her sweet pup Junior who passed on. If you haven't read it already you really should, her post is so moving.
Every month at Petroville, they allow bloggers to nominate other bloggers for a Perfect Post award. Though only 3 days into January, I knew that Swampy's post was indeed perfect, and that I wouldn't find another post like it for a long time.
I emailed Swampwitch the other day to let her know how much her post meant to me, and I would like to share what I wrote her, as I can't think of a better way to put it.
Please, if you have the time, head over and read Swampwitch's post. It will do your heart some good.
On January 3rd, Swampwitch wrote about her sweet pup Junior who passed on. If you haven't read it already you really should, her post is so moving.
Every month at Petroville, they allow bloggers to nominate other bloggers for a Perfect Post award. Though only 3 days into January, I knew that Swampy's post was indeed perfect, and that I wouldn't find another post like it for a long time.
I emailed Swampwitch the other day to let her know how much her post meant to me, and I would like to share what I wrote her, as I can't think of a better way to put it.
Hi Swampy,
I just wanted to let you know how much your post about Junior meant to me. At Petroville they hold a Perfect Post Awards every month, and anyone can nominate a any blogger who they think are deserving, for writing a post that is perfect in every way.
Though I know your pain and grief are still fresh, I just wanted to say that I think that your post about Junior was wanting of nothing. It is and was perfect, just like your love for him. Though I have only been reading your blog for a bit, your post moved me to tears and eventually anguish (like pretty much everyone else). I didn't put that in my comment because I didn't want to make it about me. :O) Having lost 4 cats in the past, I so knew your pain.
Anyway, this is the comment I left at Petroville explaining why I thought you are deserving.
"I would like to present the Perfect Post Award to Swampwitch. Her post talks about having to say goodbye to her sweet baby boy Junior, her Boxer. This moment in time brought tears to my eyes, and every single person who read it, and it is a tribute to love that can never be forgotten. Anyone who has been owned by a pet will understand the pain and beauty that Swampwitch shared with Junior, and with us. I really hope you will read this entry, thanks!"
I my mind and heart, you deserve this award because you were able to share his life with your readers with such eloquence. You shared the sadness of his passing, but most importantly you celebrated the beauty of his life.
I hope you will accept this award, knowing that I wish to in no way diminish his importance, but celebrate it as you did.
Hugs,
Mary mert
Please, if you have the time, head over and read Swampwitch's post. It will do your heart some good.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Ok, I feel a little better
If you read the extremely depressing post below, you will get a kick out of this one. Just minutes after making my 100th revision to the previous post for typos and clarifying a sentence here and there... I just Gave Emma a hug. I told her that I loved her, she smiled and said," I know, momma."
That makes me feel so good. My kids know that I love them. I tell Anna that it doesn't matter, nothing she could ever do will make us stop loving her. Nothing. We might be mad as heck, but we are still going to love her. No. Matter. What.
A few more funny tidbits... Sunday night we went out to eat because John had gotten home from his weekend excursion. It was so cold that night, but we bundled the kids up and went anyway. Emma, as per usual, had her hat and mittens off with in minutes of pulling out of the driveway. When we got to Quizno's John chided Emma for being a goofball, didn't she know it was freezing outside?
"I know dada, I know."
Though I know he wanted to strangle her because the moment he opened her door to get her out of the car seat, her gloves were blown out of the car and under... he couldn't help but laugh. I think missing her all weekend helped save her bacon too. :O)
Last night, I was gong over every one's names. I think they are never too young to learn, in case (God forbid) they ever get lost. It went like this:
What's your name?
Ah-ma.
Very good! What's daddy's name?
Ahn.
Very good, John! What's my name?
Momma.
Yes, but what is my real name?
Mare-wuh.
Very Good, Mary! What is Nana's name?
*She ponders, her eyes rolling up to her upper eye lids, ever so cutely.*
Bill!
Almost, honey... Jill.
Oh! Jill! Right. ;O) What a cutie pah-tootie.
PS- I forgot to mention that I made a desktop wallpaper for Local Girl, to hopefully motivate people to refer other bloggers to the Valentine's Day Goody Swap. The person with the most referrals gets a goody from her, but will also get this nifty wallpaper I made yesterday. :O) Here is a preview:
Still not sure
This is not a positive post. Read at your own risk.
Have you ever had a favorite picture or family story that you cherished- almost relied on, only to find later that what you had thought wasn't true? I have held on to that belief like a security blanket, and since scanning that photo yesterday I feel as though my Wubbie has gone missing.
Recently I was tagged for a Thinking Meme in which I said that my prized possession is a picture of my mother holding me at birth. Yesterday, after I scanned that photo I decided not to use it in Fun Monday. Actually, after closer inspection of that picture, what I saw was not the immeasurable out pouring of love... it was something else. I can't explain it. Bear with me for a moment as I give you a very cheesy analogy of my life.
It's as if all my life I have been told that I had this beautiful horse, the most beautiful horse in the world. I have a few pictures of it, but one picture in particular is so special to me because over the years the beauty of this horse was exaggerated more and more. I see the picture... yes. I can see that the horse is pretty. Since I have never seen another horse in my life, I begin to believe that it is indeed the most beautiful horse in the world. Later, after seeing a horse in person I realize that the picture isn't even of a horse. It's a freakin mule.
I was told at the age of 11 that I was an unwanted pregnancy, that my real father had beaten her mercilessly- accusing that I wasn't his child. I was told that I was hated before I was even born. This all came out one day while I was visiting my childhood shrink. I was forced to go because I was a "troublesome child", always making her angry. She said this to my shrink right in front of me after I had told him that I had always felt unloved and unwanted. That day my worst fears were more than confirmed. I had no doubt finally that it was true, especially from the cold and toneless way in which she said it. At that moment I did not exist. She made no move to even acknowledge that I was even in the room.
My whole life (as well as my brothers) I was told that she wished I had never been born. She even went as far one day to say that I probably enticed my father into molesting me, and that we would all be better off if he had just "jerked off" the day I had been conceived. She also made it a point to make me feel disgusting about what my father did to me, and would snidely reference it in passing to hurt me, using explicit words.
My brothers and I were told horrible things including the fact that she basically had to prostitute herself to take care of us after she and the asshat got divorced. She would accept dates with men, not telling them she had kids. She would then bring us all on the date and "pay for it" later, usually behind closed doors. The only silver lining to that precious little tidbit is that I know at the very least she cared enough for us to sacrifice for us in that way, so we could eat. I refuse to accept that burden, and though I have told my husband that given no other choice, I wouldn't hesitate to do that for my children, I would never- ever tell them, let alone make them responsible.
What made this picture so special to me was the love I thought I saw in it. Whenever I looked at this picture, I knew for one brief moment in time, despite having carried me for 9 months hating me the whole while, that she loved me at the beginning of my life outside of her. I believed what I saw was love personified.
Yesterday when I was scanning photos, I was able to see this picture like I had never seen it before as it took up almost the whole of my monitor. I see now that she wasn't even really looking at me, her eye appears to be open from leaning on her hand. What I see is no longer love. Maybe relief, absolutely exhaustion. I think its her eyes, they are so void of anything. I know because she has told me, that she has become very good at pretending and acting, being what people want her to be. Was this just another example of that? Why the semi smile, a smile I had thought to be bigger and just... well more- and the blank stare? I am confused at what I see, but I know now that what I had thought doesn't exist. It's not what I had thought. It's a mule.
I now regret scanning the stupid thing.
I look at this picture for example, with cynicism.
At first I contemplated settling for this picture yesterday as a cheap substitute.I then had a memory of me wandering the trailer park we lived in after my real father left her. He was off gambling all of our money away, doing God knows what and buying a car we couldn't afford. I remember being a little older than this buy a year or 2, and wandering without shoes, my toes bleeding on the hot pavement.
So you see, this picture will not do. Though I have a bizarre satisfaction that I had moments of reprieve, usually because other people were present. I know now that a lot of things were bought for me out of guilt because of what I experienced when I was older. Blood money, hush money in form of dolls and tea sets.
When I look at the rest of my life in form of photos, I see lies and deception. I wonder exactly when the abuse started , and since most of my earliest memories involve abuse... all other pictures are tainted. I cannot accept what some of those pictures seem to say to me. I know that for the most part those were special occasions and though that might also be a brief glimmer of happiness, it was most certainly wedged between bookends of pain. I can remember with such clarity being forced to smile for the camera.
Though pictures like these are few and far between, they are a little more accurate as to how I actually felt. In the first picture, my mother dumped all of my clothes out of my dresser and made me refold them while screaming at me. Probably because my room was not perfect like she expected it to be. I wonder why she would want to chronicle my pain and humiliation with a picture.
The next picture truly shows how I really felt during my childhood. This picture also is a time stamp for me because I remember the abuse getting worse after we moved into this house with my step-dad, before they were married. I was also miserable because I had gone from being a minority and being considered just white in an all black neighborhood, being picked on and occasionally beat up on the apartment complex play ground- to being picked on for being a Beaner in a small redneck town.
*On a side note, this is why I get angry when being accuse of being "one of those white people who was lucky enough to have been born a cracker, that treats black people poorly". A coworker from Nigeria once went on a tirade, lumping me in with a "you white people" statement. I went into a frothy frenzy and told her to never refer to me in that way. I have experienced racism. If you really want to piss me off, call me racist. This is why I have no qualms about talking about my Beaner-ism. Though I mostly identify with being white, mostly because we never really discussed my heritage. My mother didn't particularly feel proud of hers, and made it a point to not speak Spanish as a kid because she didn't want to considered one of those "dumb Mexicans with an accent". In southern California, in those days, Mexican were treated very poorly too. This probably has a lot to do with me not disclosing that I was half Mexican when enlisting in the Navy, I wanted to get the job I wanted because I was smart enough, not because I filled a quota. Oddly enough, I have experienced racism here in Iowa, once people hear that I am half Mexican.*
I hate both of these pictures and do not know why I keep them. I guess it's so I know that when I am told what a perfect mother she was to us (thank God I finally told her off 3 years ago, and haven't talked to her since), and that we have it all wrong, we are liars, she did the best she could, that she is always right, that we are the ones that are crazy...
I have proof. Proof not of a beautiful horse, the most beautiful horse in the world, but proof of a mule.
Which makes forgiving her nearly impossible.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Fun Monday
Erik at The Electronic Firefly is hosting Fun Monday. This Fun Monday, bloggers are posting the cutest pictures ever. You really should go check them out! head over to Erik's for a complete list.
I had though that I had missed the boat... then wasn't going to do it since I had already posted pictures last week.
But I was reading Robin's post and she said it wasn't to late...
What the heck? I'm sitting here miserable with a chest cold and nothing better to do. Oh, I have laundry to do... but I said better. :O)
Here are some of my favorite pictures of me as an ankle biter...
A picture of me while I stayed with my mother's parents in California, because my mother was indisposed. *cough funny farm cough* I still smile like that, though I have more chins now.* I don't know if you have heard this or not, but rumor has it that I am a ginourmous goofball, and as you can see... I started at a young age* 3yrs
Me and my Anti Yvonne who took care of me while my older brother and I lived with the grandparents.:O)
Isn't she gorgeous? Hey , am I being a goofball in that picture? Outstanding! 3 yrs
I'm pretty sure I was rockin' the bell bottoms.
This is a picture of me, still living in California with the grand-nuts. My Grandma worked at the Head Start, which is like preschool I think. She took this photo. 3-4 years old
And last but not least, this is my favorite picture of me and my dad. Though he became my dad when I was about 6 or 7, he never treated me like I wasn't his. He is one of the few bright spots from my childhood.
When he wore his horn rimmed military issue glasses, I thought he looked like Clark Kent, and secretly I thought my mother was dating Superman. :D Well, he was my Superman... so there you have it.
Miss you dad! 12 years old
I had though that I had missed the boat... then wasn't going to do it since I had already posted pictures last week.
But I was reading Robin's post and she said it wasn't to late...
What the heck? I'm sitting here miserable with a chest cold and nothing better to do. Oh, I have laundry to do... but I said better. :O)
Here are some of my favorite pictures of me as an ankle biter...
Enjoying raisins, my favorite treat...Which I hate now. 1 year.
Sitting with my great-grandpa, who loved me despite being a beaner. ;O) Unlike his wife, my great-grandmother. She was from the south, what can I tell ya. I loved this man so much, I have only fond memories. I don't remember the dog though. 1 /12 years old
A picture of me while I stayed with my mother's parents in California, because my mother was indisposed. *cough funny farm cough* I still smile like that, though I have more chins now.* I don't know if you have heard this or not, but rumor has it that I am a ginourmous goofball, and as you can see... I started at a young age* 3yrs
Me and my Anti Yvonne who took care of me while my older brother and I lived with the grandparents.:O)
Isn't she gorgeous? Hey , am I being a goofball in that picture? Outstanding! 3 yrs
I'm pretty sure I was rockin' the bell bottoms.
This is a picture of me, still living in California with the grand-nuts. My Grandma worked at the Head Start, which is like preschool I think. She took this photo. 3-4 years old
And last but not least, this is my favorite picture of me and my dad. Though he became my dad when I was about 6 or 7, he never treated me like I wasn't his. He is one of the few bright spots from my childhood.
When he wore his horn rimmed military issue glasses, I thought he looked like Clark Kent, and secretly I thought my mother was dating Superman. :D Well, he was my Superman... so there you have it.
Miss you dad! 12 years old
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Everything I needed to know, I learned from blogging.
OK, not everything... But I have been blogging for a little less than a year, and I have learned a lot. This week's theme for The Carnival of Blogging Chicks is What I have learned from blogging.
- The first thing I learned is that you have to be real. No one wants to read a blog that is trying too hard, especially if you are trying really hard to be something you are not. Every word rang false, and it was evident in my lack of comments. Besides, who needs another blog looking for it's 15 minutes of fame? I had my 15 minutes in real life... it's not all it's cracked up to be. I decided that instead of having a blog that was putting a fictitious positive spin on things that I really needed to be the real me, flaws and all.
- If you insist that your husband read your blog, so you can get your daily dose of validation, hoping that he will think it's funny... expect that he might just have something to say about you putting your family life under the microscope for anyone to scrutinize. I have learned what is (mostly) acceptable to write about and what is not, all based on a post I made while I was steaming mad at him. He was not pleased and let me know about it.
- Next I learned that a certain amount of weirdness is allowed and even accepted, but know when to say when. Most people do not want to know about your insect collection, or that you can shoot milk out of your eyelids... unless you are tagged for a meme that asked about your weirdness. Otherwise, keep your belly button lint collection to yourself.
- Don't expect overnight success. Unless you are giving away free stuff. :O) Even then, expect that there is a need for "word of blog". You can't expect to develop a readership overnight, it needs nurturing and care.
- Speaking of readership... reciprocation is the name of the game. If you find that someone has left an interesting comment, check out their blog and see what is going on their world. Everyone loves comments, it's nice to give back to your reader too. I have also learned that commenter's appreciate being acknowledged. You can't just expect for readers to keep commenting if you never acknowledge them.
- Don't blog for the sake of posting everyday. Most people don't want to read that you have nothing to post about, every other post. If you aren't in the mood, don't force it.
- Not everyone is going to like you, and try as you might- you won't like everyone either. If you find yourself in a place where you aren't being appreciated for your comments and the human being that you are... try reading another blog. There are other blogging fish in the sea.
- Remember why you started blogging in the first place. I mean, really.. you started your blog because you had something to say. Whether it's a personal blog, a techie blog, or a blog about where to find the best knitting supply deals... it's yours. Don't feel pressured to please the reader because then you're not being real.
- I have discovered my inner geek. Though I had my husband help me a little in the beginning (and I used to tease him about being a geek)... now I can rip apart a template and build it back up again. I enjoy figuring things out for myself and have discovered I'm pretty good at it. Now, when I tell my husband of a new discovery, he will point and smile and yell "GEEK!".
- Most importantly...Everyone gets a little blog crispy at times. Sometimes you need to hang up that "I'll be back in a few days, I am taking a blogging break" sign, kick back and relax. You'll feel so much better for it, and you might actually enjoy blogging when you come back.
I hope you enjoyed reading about my version of "underwater blogger weaving 101". Now that you're done, and since you have a few minutes to kill, why don't you head on over to Blogging Chicks to read some interesting views about blogging?
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Random Thursday Thoughts
**If you are reading this in Bloglines, some of the things below are NOT going to show up. :O) Go to my blog for the full post.**
First off, my Aunt Yvonne commented on my blog for the first time today! My Aunt looked after me while I lived with her and my grandparents while the egg donor (my mother) was committed (yes, the funny farm). My aunt has been one of the few positive role models in my life over the years. I am lucky to have her in my gene pool. She's been reading my blog for about 6 months now at least, and thought I would not be quite as honest if I knew she was still reading. Anyway, Thanks ANTI Yvonne :O) Love ya!
This morning while John was getting ready for work, but still hadn't dressed, I walked by John and smacked his butt, our favorite sport. Emma said, "Smack butt?" and I told her to go ahead. Though I know he will most certainly strangle me later for posting this... Emma took a good look at her dad's bum and shook her head "no" while saying "Blahhhhhgh".
Not only once, but walked out then back into the room for a second opinion. Another "blahhhgh". :D I assured him that I still thought his butt is cute, and that's all that matters.
Usually, I am pretty shy about putting new ideas on my blog... I'm an insecure idiot! (I'm not fishing here, I promise... I would love your honest opinion).
I was thinking, since there simply aren't enough enough memes out there*snort*... maybe I could start my own. I was thinking Sound Byte Saturday(or Soundbyte.. which is it? How can I start a meme thingamajig if I don't even know how to spell it?) .
For Sound Byte Saturday you could post a video or audio clip on your blog to best sum up your mood for the past week (Sound Byte Of The Week), or just for Saturday (Saturday Sound Byte). For instance, if today were Saturday I could post this song on my blog to sum up my Love Fest for the MISU:
OR This:
OR This, because.... I like to let my inner goof ball out occasionally. OK, more than occasionally.
I know, Corny Much? ;O) Basically anything that has sound... PG 13 though. If you want, you can explain your choice of Sound byte, or not... and let us figure it out for ourselves. :O)
What do you guys think? Comment if you are interested in doing this on Saturdays... I will start it and have a Mr Linky to sign up here. I will post the details later, including links to music/video code sites and how to turn off auto play.
Now go comment already! :O)
First off, my Aunt Yvonne commented on my blog for the first time today! My Aunt looked after me while I lived with her and my grandparents while the egg donor (my mother) was committed (yes, the funny farm). My aunt has been one of the few positive role models in my life over the years. I am lucky to have her in my gene pool. She's been reading my blog for about 6 months now at least, and thought I would not be quite as honest if I knew she was still reading. Anyway, Thanks ANTI Yvonne :O) Love ya!
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~
This morning while John was getting ready for work, but still hadn't dressed, I walked by John and smacked his butt, our favorite sport. Emma said, "Smack butt?" and I told her to go ahead. Though I know he will most certainly strangle me later for posting this... Emma took a good look at her dad's bum and shook her head "no" while saying "Blahhhhhgh".
Not only once, but walked out then back into the room for a second opinion. Another "blahhhgh". :D I assured him that I still thought his butt is cute, and that's all that matters.
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~
Usually, I am pretty shy about putting new ideas on my blog... I'm an insecure idiot! (I'm not fishing here, I promise... I would love your honest opinion).
I was thinking, since there simply aren't enough enough memes out there*snort*... maybe I could start my own. I was thinking Sound Byte Saturday(or Soundbyte.. which is it? How can I start a meme thingamajig if I don't even know how to spell it?) .
For Sound Byte Saturday you could post a video or audio clip on your blog to best sum up your mood for the past week (Sound Byte Of The Week), or just for Saturday (Saturday Sound Byte). For instance, if today were Saturday I could post this song on my blog to sum up my Love Fest for the MISU:
OR This:
OR This, because.... I like to let my inner goof ball out occasionally. OK, more than occasionally.
I know, Corny Much? ;O) Basically anything that has sound... PG 13 though. If you want, you can explain your choice of Sound byte, or not... and let us figure it out for ourselves. :O)
What do you guys think? Comment if you are interested in doing this on Saturdays... I will start it and have a Mr Linky to sign up here. I will post the details later, including links to music/video code sites and how to turn off auto play.
Now go comment already! :O)
Thursday 13 #19, Post "Annoy Me" Pictorial
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You had me at "You kind of annoy me". 1. John at 2  2. Me at 2  3. John at 4-5  4. Me at 3-4  5. Hunka-hunka burnin' love, high school graduation picture  6. My graduation picture  7.Corps School Class Picture ( before dating)    8. Bowling during Corps school, before we started to date...  9. Dating :O)  10. Engaged  11. Married , we were so proud we did it all on our own :O)   12. After coming home from the Persian Gulf war '90/91.  13. A few years before we were surprised with our first full term pregnancy, about '98 or '99.  |
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Tuesday, January 23, 2007
You had me at "you kind of annoy me": Part Five , last installment
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
And dont forget to read Part Four!
I left Part Four with me wedged between two business men. Again. Men can be such oinkers sometimes, but as I said, I had just finished an extensive 8 week exercise program, and had a decent farmer's tan. Sitting there 18 and firm, and in my dress blues... well, boys will be boys.
I arrived 3 hours late, just after midnight, and was considered AWOL (absent without leave, leave being approved vacation). My company-mate standing next to me had also missed our flight, but for different reasons. It would seem that she had managed to find the bar in the airport, and spent the next 4 hours getting schnockered. On top of that, she managed to barf all over herself on the hour long bus ride from the airport to the base. All over her dress blue uniform, which you probably know is one of a soldier's proudest possessions.
The chips had once again fallen in my favor, and because my shipmate was barfy and a disgrace to her uniform, the Officer On Deck focused all of her wrath on her. All of the AWOL'ees were off the hook.
Since I was late getting to the base and the class that I was supposed to be in had already filled up, I would be in the next class. The class that a very handsome "butter wouldn't melt in his mouth" John the Future MISU was in.
I would meet my husband for the love of shopping, a point which I argue on occasion.
Our Company Commanders would consist of a First Class and Chief Petty Officers, and a Lieutenant Commander. While waiting for our class to fill up, they had assigned jobs for us to pass the time. Since my family had been a small cleaning business for an advertising agency in DC, I was put in charge of the cleaning supply closet and was in charge of making sure that certain areas were cleaned properly. John was named adjutant of the class and would come by the cleaning supply locker to check up on me. Three or four times a day. Which really annoyed me because I sat In a closet all day for the most part, and I figured there wasn't too much that I could screw up. And he was always interrupting my naps. So, I made sure to tell him that.
He would try to small talk me, after telling me he was just doing his rounds.
"Why are you always coming in here? You're annoying me, leave me alone."
Later he would come back a few times more, only to be stonewalled. It didn't take much more for him to get the picture that I was a self sufficient gal, and I didn't need someone to look over my shoulder while I handed out mops and buckets. I was so young and dumb, I hadn't realized that he didn't have to come down, he wanted to. Pretty soon though, he didn't want to anymore. I had bared my teeth a few times more, and he had slowly backed away, out of danger.
After our class had reached it's saturation point, and after being seated up two rows and to the right of him... I could feel someone staring at me. I turned, and he stared at me unabashedly, then gave me a smirk of a smile. That smile told me everything I had been too dumb and sleepy to notice before. I felt fluttering in places I didn't know existed. I folded that knowledge up as if it were a note he had just passed to me, and put it in my hip pocket.
The weeks went on, involving a lot of partying with and without my very concerned roommates. Many times I would fall asleep in the middle of taking notes, and would snort myself awake to find that I had scribbled right off the edge of my paper, and desk. Eventually, my chief busted me and I was to blame for having to stand in the back of the class. It was either that or get caught sleeping again and suffer some menial task as punishment.
John couldn't stare at the back of my head until my scalp tingled anymore, which would then cause me to turn around and get the "Yeah baby, I'm lookin' attchu" look. This would mean that his shy self would actually have to talk to me. I talked to him, but I was too busy speed dating to notice much more... still looking for love in all the wrong places, usually a guy who thought he was the *you know what*. Sometimes though, I would use my new found hotness to get even with the male race. I would sleep with them, then never call them. My roommates continued to worry about me, and would scold me lovingly.
We went on outings as a class, and eventually broke off into our own little groups. John happened to be in the group of my friends, and I was getting to know him a little better every day. One night we went bowling, and after our group dispersed John offered to walk me to the girl's barracks. On the way John and I took turns giving each other piggy back rides. He was impressed, I could tell. Since my room was on the first floor, and unbeknownst to me, my roommates watched us with great interest. John and I argued about something, I don't remembered what. He got in my face, so I got in his, and we continued to playfully argue. I said good night and came inside. Meanwhile, from their vantage point, my roommates just assumed that we were kissing. My roommates proceeded to tease me for kissing the "adj". I denied it, but they wouldn't listen, they were certain that they had seen me lay one on him.
Soon after, me and my roommates were dubbed the Golden Girls, me being Rhu McClanahan- the slutty Blanche Devereaux character. Fantastic! One day in class, my roommates were giving me a hard time about my so called love life. John was close enough to hear our shouted whispers, and I could see that he wasn't too happy with what he was hearing. I pretended not to notice. As a joke my roommates started naming the guys in our class, then giving them a number according to where I had left off in my speed dating. My roommates giggled, while I squirmed. Those *not nice people*s.
They got to John and I heard from behind me, "I'm not waiting to be #X." (I say X for modesty's sake, but I'm sure at this point you can imagine... it's not good) The giggling stopped.
A startled me says, "Wha?" I turned to face him.
"I'm not going to wait to be #X," he says glaring at me.
Well, that shut them up! I turned back around, my face on fire. I just wanted to die. I realized that I actually cared what he thought of me. And he thought so much of me that numbers didn't matter to him, he still wanted to be with me. Why couldn't he just ask me out already?
The weather would warm up in the Great Lakes area just in time for a class picnic on the edge of Lake Michigan. Still, it was April, and a bit chilly. John did what any school kid would do, which was torment the girl he liked. A few of us rolled up our pants and splashed each other. John splashed me, I splashed back. He picked me up and threw me in the lake.
As you can imagine, a mascara streaming, hair ruined, sputtering and steaming mad me came to the surface.
"Expect it when you least expect it." That's all I could say, and walked away.
A few weeks later, one of my roommates, Denise- who always borrowed my clothes and ruined them, or wore them so much that the color had faded, then would give them back and go buy herself the same clothes... had ultimately known that despite being thrown in a lake, I had a crush on him- was sitting on John's lap at the club on base. She knew better! Honestly, I was a bit peeved with him too. If really liked me, her fat-ish butt shouldn't have remained parked on his lap. I became very angry and got up from the table we were all sitting at. I went around them, acting like I was going to the bar to get another drink. I snuck up on him and dumped my ice filled drink down his back. I got great satisfaction out of watching his expression as he stood, and her expression as he dumped her fat-ish butt on the floor.
"Hah! I told you I'd get... you back." the words died in my mouth.
This would be the first time he would give me The Look. Stepping over my roommate, I walked over to him and pleaded with a very angry he to dance with a very nervous me. Grudgingly, he relented. The DJ put on a slow song, and I slowly felt the anger go out of him. When I knew it was safe, I put my head on his shoulder and we danced the next 5 slow songs without words.
The club gave its last call and we hit the streets, not sure what we were doing next. There were my roommates and their "boyfriends", and Denise- the crush stealer, plus a few others. All of us were a bit tipsy and suddenly I was inspired...
I yelled,"Hey guys, you want to see a real kiss?" I grabbed him buy the collar then gave him a spine tingler and a knee knocker of a kiss. The kiss of his life. The drunken nervousness faded, and my roommates cheered us on.
We did much more than kiss that night. I had never had someone love me like that before. He and I were completely gone over each other. Later, I would find out that every single day he would tell his roommates that he was going to ask me out, that today was the day. It never happened, he was just too shy. Apparently, I was not. :O)
We still giggle about all the places we "christened" on base at Great Lakes, being young and completely besotted with one another... We just didn't care if we got caught. Like the one time we were so broke that we couldn't afford a hotel room, so we ended up nekkid on a golf course in John's sleeping bag. That is, until we saw a smallish dark shape scamper our way. As it got closer, I was pretty sure that I saw a white stripe. We ran to John's car... and the poop unlocked his side of the car first! Can you believe that? After managing to get at least our over-wear on, in the tiny Toyota Corolla hatch back, I noticed that I had managed to have lost my bra and underwear during our run to the car. We slept in the car, at the golf course, neither of us brave enough to find my underwear. The next morning, the grounds keeper tapped on the window. Startled, we jolted awake just in time to see him pointing in the general direction of the 4th hole, the place that had been our bed that night... we screamed with nervous giggling and speed off knowing he was probably pointing at my undies.
By the way- NO, I do not ever intend to let my girls know that we "knocked boots" on our first date. Or the fact that I have on a few occasions enjoyed one of those special, freshly rolled ciggies that all the hippies rave about. Yes, I fully intend to lie. I am guessing that these stories wont ever be shared with them. I'm jut worried that one day, when I'm old and gray(er), that in my confusion I will spill the beans. John says he plans to say it's just the drugs talking.
So much has happened over the years, a lot of good, a lot of bad. A ruptured tubal pregnancy during our engagement, lots of fights- most of them about my crazy mother, concerning our wedding and other general craziness, then none of my family coming to our wedding (except for you, Aunt Yvonne)...
A Persian Gulf War- me on a ship, and him in the desert- and getting arrested for making out with my husband(when he came for a surprise visit on my ship), then both of us facing Captain's Mast (court marshals) then making the news back home for all of that, and almost getting a divorce when we got back...
Craziness from my mother, almost calling it quits more times than I can count, 10 years of infertility...
I can honestly say that meeting my husband saved my life, I was on a path of self destruction and ho'edness, still searching for someone to love and want me. I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't be here right now, and if I was- I would barely be existing. My crudeness and roughness didn't faze him at all, he saw the gem that lie beneath. It's never been easy, and if there is one thing I have learned is that you have to fight for what you want. Everyday I feel grateful to have found The One and to have his love no matter what.
We're still here 18 years later, being goofy and making each other laugh. After all of that, I know that he still loves me.
Life is good.
If you are interested in reading a little ditty I wrote, almost a year ago... on my husbands birthday, you can read Once upon a time... :O)
Part Two
Part Three
And dont forget to read Part Four!
I left Part Four with me wedged between two business men. Again. Men can be such oinkers sometimes, but as I said, I had just finished an extensive 8 week exercise program, and had a decent farmer's tan. Sitting there 18 and firm, and in my dress blues... well, boys will be boys.
I arrived 3 hours late, just after midnight, and was considered AWOL (absent without leave, leave being approved vacation). My company-mate standing next to me had also missed our flight, but for different reasons. It would seem that she had managed to find the bar in the airport, and spent the next 4 hours getting schnockered. On top of that, she managed to barf all over herself on the hour long bus ride from the airport to the base. All over her dress blue uniform, which you probably know is one of a soldier's proudest possessions.
The chips had once again fallen in my favor, and because my shipmate was barfy and a disgrace to her uniform, the Officer On Deck focused all of her wrath on her. All of the AWOL'ees were off the hook.
Since I was late getting to the base and the class that I was supposed to be in had already filled up, I would be in the next class. The class that a very handsome "butter wouldn't melt in his mouth" John the Future MISU was in.
I would meet my husband for the love of shopping, a point which I argue on occasion.
Our Company Commanders would consist of a First Class and Chief Petty Officers, and a Lieutenant Commander. While waiting for our class to fill up, they had assigned jobs for us to pass the time. Since my family had been a small cleaning business for an advertising agency in DC, I was put in charge of the cleaning supply closet and was in charge of making sure that certain areas were cleaned properly. John was named adjutant of the class and would come by the cleaning supply locker to check up on me. Three or four times a day. Which really annoyed me because I sat In a closet all day for the most part, and I figured there wasn't too much that I could screw up. And he was always interrupting my naps. So, I made sure to tell him that.
He would try to small talk me, after telling me he was just doing his rounds.
"Why are you always coming in here? You're annoying me, leave me alone."
Later he would come back a few times more, only to be stonewalled. It didn't take much more for him to get the picture that I was a self sufficient gal, and I didn't need someone to look over my shoulder while I handed out mops and buckets. I was so young and dumb, I hadn't realized that he didn't have to come down, he wanted to. Pretty soon though, he didn't want to anymore. I had bared my teeth a few times more, and he had slowly backed away, out of danger.
After our class had reached it's saturation point, and after being seated up two rows and to the right of him... I could feel someone staring at me. I turned, and he stared at me unabashedly, then gave me a smirk of a smile. That smile told me everything I had been too dumb and sleepy to notice before. I felt fluttering in places I didn't know existed. I folded that knowledge up as if it were a note he had just passed to me, and put it in my hip pocket.
The weeks went on, involving a lot of partying with and without my very concerned roommates. Many times I would fall asleep in the middle of taking notes, and would snort myself awake to find that I had scribbled right off the edge of my paper, and desk. Eventually, my chief busted me and I was to blame for having to stand in the back of the class. It was either that or get caught sleeping again and suffer some menial task as punishment.
John couldn't stare at the back of my head until my scalp tingled anymore, which would then cause me to turn around and get the "Yeah baby, I'm lookin' attchu" look. This would mean that his shy self would actually have to talk to me. I talked to him, but I was too busy speed dating to notice much more... still looking for love in all the wrong places, usually a guy who thought he was the *you know what*. Sometimes though, I would use my new found hotness to get even with the male race. I would sleep with them, then never call them. My roommates continued to worry about me, and would scold me lovingly.
We went on outings as a class, and eventually broke off into our own little groups. John happened to be in the group of my friends, and I was getting to know him a little better every day. One night we went bowling, and after our group dispersed John offered to walk me to the girl's barracks. On the way John and I took turns giving each other piggy back rides. He was impressed, I could tell. Since my room was on the first floor, and unbeknownst to me, my roommates watched us with great interest. John and I argued about something, I don't remembered what. He got in my face, so I got in his, and we continued to playfully argue. I said good night and came inside. Meanwhile, from their vantage point, my roommates just assumed that we were kissing. My roommates proceeded to tease me for kissing the "adj". I denied it, but they wouldn't listen, they were certain that they had seen me lay one on him.
Soon after, me and my roommates were dubbed the Golden Girls, me being Rhu McClanahan- the slutty Blanche Devereaux character. Fantastic! One day in class, my roommates were giving me a hard time about my so called love life. John was close enough to hear our shouted whispers, and I could see that he wasn't too happy with what he was hearing. I pretended not to notice. As a joke my roommates started naming the guys in our class, then giving them a number according to where I had left off in my speed dating. My roommates giggled, while I squirmed. Those *not nice people*s.
They got to John and I heard from behind me, "I'm not waiting to be #X." (I say X for modesty's sake, but I'm sure at this point you can imagine... it's not good) The giggling stopped.
A startled me says, "Wha?" I turned to face him.
"I'm not going to wait to be #X," he says glaring at me.
Well, that shut them up! I turned back around, my face on fire. I just wanted to die. I realized that I actually cared what he thought of me. And he thought so much of me that numbers didn't matter to him, he still wanted to be with me. Why couldn't he just ask me out already?
The weather would warm up in the Great Lakes area just in time for a class picnic on the edge of Lake Michigan. Still, it was April, and a bit chilly. John did what any school kid would do, which was torment the girl he liked. A few of us rolled up our pants and splashed each other. John splashed me, I splashed back. He picked me up and threw me in the lake.
As you can imagine, a mascara streaming, hair ruined, sputtering and steaming mad me came to the surface.
"Expect it when you least expect it." That's all I could say, and walked away.
A few weeks later, one of my roommates, Denise- who always borrowed my clothes and ruined them, or wore them so much that the color had faded, then would give them back and go buy herself the same clothes... had ultimately known that despite being thrown in a lake, I had a crush on him- was sitting on John's lap at the club on base. She knew better! Honestly, I was a bit peeved with him too. If really liked me, her fat-ish butt shouldn't have remained parked on his lap. I became very angry and got up from the table we were all sitting at. I went around them, acting like I was going to the bar to get another drink. I snuck up on him and dumped my ice filled drink down his back. I got great satisfaction out of watching his expression as he stood, and her expression as he dumped her fat-ish butt on the floor.
"Hah! I told you I'd get... you back." the words died in my mouth.
This would be the first time he would give me The Look. Stepping over my roommate, I walked over to him and pleaded with a very angry he to dance with a very nervous me. Grudgingly, he relented. The DJ put on a slow song, and I slowly felt the anger go out of him. When I knew it was safe, I put my head on his shoulder and we danced the next 5 slow songs without words.
The club gave its last call and we hit the streets, not sure what we were doing next. There were my roommates and their "boyfriends", and Denise- the crush stealer, plus a few others. All of us were a bit tipsy and suddenly I was inspired...
I yelled,"Hey guys, you want to see a real kiss?" I grabbed him buy the collar then gave him a spine tingler and a knee knocker of a kiss. The kiss of his life. The drunken nervousness faded, and my roommates cheered us on.
We did much more than kiss that night. I had never had someone love me like that before. He and I were completely gone over each other. Later, I would find out that every single day he would tell his roommates that he was going to ask me out, that today was the day. It never happened, he was just too shy. Apparently, I was not. :O)
We still giggle about all the places we "christened" on base at Great Lakes, being young and completely besotted with one another... We just didn't care if we got caught. Like the one time we were so broke that we couldn't afford a hotel room, so we ended up nekkid on a golf course in John's sleeping bag. That is, until we saw a smallish dark shape scamper our way. As it got closer, I was pretty sure that I saw a white stripe. We ran to John's car... and the poop unlocked his side of the car first! Can you believe that? After managing to get at least our over-wear on, in the tiny Toyota Corolla hatch back, I noticed that I had managed to have lost my bra and underwear during our run to the car. We slept in the car, at the golf course, neither of us brave enough to find my underwear. The next morning, the grounds keeper tapped on the window. Startled, we jolted awake just in time to see him pointing in the general direction of the 4th hole, the place that had been our bed that night... we screamed with nervous giggling and speed off knowing he was probably pointing at my undies.
By the way- NO, I do not ever intend to let my girls know that we "knocked boots" on our first date. Or the fact that I have on a few occasions enjoyed one of those special, freshly rolled ciggies that all the hippies rave about. Yes, I fully intend to lie. I am guessing that these stories wont ever be shared with them. I'm jut worried that one day, when I'm old and gray(er), that in my confusion I will spill the beans. John says he plans to say it's just the drugs talking.
So much has happened over the years, a lot of good, a lot of bad. A ruptured tubal pregnancy during our engagement, lots of fights- most of them about my crazy mother, concerning our wedding and other general craziness, then none of my family coming to our wedding (except for you, Aunt Yvonne)...
A Persian Gulf War- me on a ship, and him in the desert- and getting arrested for making out with my husband(when he came for a surprise visit on my ship), then both of us facing Captain's Mast (court marshals) then making the news back home for all of that, and almost getting a divorce when we got back...
Craziness from my mother, almost calling it quits more times than I can count, 10 years of infertility...
I can honestly say that meeting my husband saved my life, I was on a path of self destruction and ho'edness, still searching for someone to love and want me. I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't be here right now, and if I was- I would barely be existing. My crudeness and roughness didn't faze him at all, he saw the gem that lie beneath. It's never been easy, and if there is one thing I have learned is that you have to fight for what you want. Everyday I feel grateful to have found The One and to have his love no matter what.
We're still here 18 years later, being goofy and making each other laugh. After all of that, I know that he still loves me.
Life is good.
If you are interested in reading a little ditty I wrote, almost a year ago... on my husbands birthday, you can read Once upon a time... :O)
My Anna
After breakfast, Anna croaked ;O) that she wanted to help do the dishes. What is so surprising about this is that even when she is perfectly healthy, or near healthy, and despite me glue gunning myself into oblivion with this little gem...
at 5 cents a chore, she still refuses to do them. Our rule is she doesn't have to do her chores. Don't do them, you don't get paid. We also have a rule that she gets toys etc on holidays and her birthday. If she really wants something, she has to save up for it. We are hoping that eventually, after a few months, that Barbie she really wants will motivate her. We are trying to teach her the value of working hard for something she wants, and saving up for it. I digress, it's a very bad habit of mine. :O)
Anyway, as I was saying... On a "normal" day, she doesn't want to do her chores despite knowing she gets 5 cents a chore. On a good day, she has the possibility to earn 60 cents! But today, feeling bad... she decided that I should cash in that coupon for dish washing that she gave me as a Christmas present. :D
So here she is, helping her momma and keeping busy while feeling yucky.
I'm not sure if we have taught her anything about money management yet, but she has learned the value of giving and spending time with family. Even if it's doing dishes when you are under the weather.
Besides, I let her use the sprayer for the first time... what could be better than that?
Monday, January 22, 2007
You had me at "you kind of annoy me": Part Four
In case you just started reading this series of posts, you will want to read these first.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
As the plane touched down in Orlando, Florida I realized a few things. My nights of fantasizing about killing my mother in her sleep were over. I know... shocking, but true. I never had the guts to do it. Somewhere in my mind I always pictured her waking up and killing me instead, that's how afraid of her I was back then. That thought alone kept me nailed to my bed. I knew she was capable. I look back at that time with almost a comfort. I'm glad I didn't kill her, mostly because I would have spent the rest of my life in prison. I wouldn't be here, at this moment today.
Living at Lila's for two months had given me a taste of what life actually was. I was a little scared not to have someone controlling my every move, and making my decisions for me.
The first day of boot camp was interesting. You know those movies where you see two Gunny Sargents yelling for the princesses to get out of bed as they bang on an empty garbage can? Then proceed to spray the recruits with spittle while screaming in their faces? That's not a silly stereotype. They actually do that stuff. As a punishment for bringing all the crap my recruiters told me I could, and for appearing like a complete and utter "princess", I got the joy of lugging a 60 pound bag to each and every place we went that day, including chow, inoculations, and uniform fittings. Maybe it was that classic Mickey Mouse sweat shirt I was wearing.
Two weeks into it, I had found my niche. I had quickly realized that being in a place that treated me like a nobody, yelled insults, and ordered me around every second of the day... was actually a little better than home. I thought to myself- in the midst of doing my 60th push up- that I have endured so much worse, this was actually a piece of cake.
Boot camp did have it's hilarious moments too. Our barracks was about half the length of a football field. Since I was one of the last few to fill up the company, my bunk was on the opposite end of our Company Commander's office. While the CC was up at the front screaming at our fellow booters, holding us in upright push up position for minutes on end, us lucky summuma guns at the end were resting on our knees. She'd start down our way and we'd pop up off of our knees. Also, I became very good at sleeping on my feet. I managed to drown out the noise of my CC's yelling and screaming- heck I was used to that- with my own rhythmic breathing. A few times I almost toppled over, and after that a fellow recruit across from me would start making faces to keep me awake. Thank God I was at the other end of the barracks, because her crossed eyes kept me awake alright, and I would shake shudder in silent laughing fits, all while standing at attention. A few times she even farted, all for my benefit.
Later, after boot camp when we arrived at our first duty station, I would show her my gratitude by buying her a Sony Walkman. :O)
My Company Commander asked us one day if any of us wanted to be in the boot camp choir, preforming at graduations for booters. I piped up, the first to thrust my hand up out of about 15. My CC asked me to stand up and sing something, and to please not embarrass her (no mention of embarrassing myself). After weeks of hearing Anita Baker's sultry voice coming from my CC's office in our barracks, and that being the only music I had heard in weeks, I took a brave breath and belted Anita's Sweet Love as clear and sweet as I could. Singing her favorite artist's song... Call it sucking up, call it self preservation, call it what ever you want. I call it pretty darn smart since it got me out of weeks and weeks of drills (marching with a gun) and chow hall duty .
Boot camp seemed to fly by for me after that, even though I was getting up at o'dark thirty in the morning everyday for choir practice. My company got up at about 5:30 every morning, and I think we got up a whole hour before they did. Even though we had to fill our time with busy work after we got back from choir practice- while the rest of the company was drilling- like cleaning the barracks bathroom for the third time in 2 days... being in the choir had its perks. We were told to also sweep and mop, and each of us would clean then take a nap while pretending to dust the underside of the bottom bunks. Genius. We never got caught.
My family flew down for my boot camp graduation, we had Chinese and went to Disneyland with a cute booter ( Bill, a guy I met in choir) and his family. My mother got mad because I wanted to spend time with the cutie and not her... and we made plans to go to a "booter party"- which was code for getting naked in his parents hotel room. ;O) What happened next was sweet yet embarrassing... my step-dad, having never talked to me about sex before, asked me if I had condoms. Imagine my surprise. Barely able to speak, let alone look him in the eye, I muttered I would get some.
That night we missed curfew coming back to base, and were within seconds of being held back for another 8 weeks because we had broken the rules. After the taxi dropped us off at the front gate I never ran so hard in my life, and my lungs burned so bad I was certain I could taste blood. Luckily, the Petty Officer that was on duty that night at the security desk had a crush on my CC, so he pretended that he didn't see us come in 2 minutes late. He looked up at the clock a few minutes after that pretending he just saw us. The next day my family flew home, and a few days after that I was on my way to Great Lakes to start Corps School. I never saw the cutie again.
All the while, I had been saving up part of my paycheck in a Navy sponsored program called the G.I. Bill. They would match the 12% of my paycheck that was deducted every month and set it aside for college. we could also send money home if we wanted. Pppsshhh yeah, right! The rest of my paycheck was kept back for the whole 8 weeks except for 20 bucks we had to buy what we needed at the commissary. Soooo, at the end of 8 weeks I was presented with a $1,200 check.
Hmmm, I was at Orlando International , which was part shopping mall, part airport. I had 1,200 bucks in my hand... what was a girl to do? Heck ya, I went shopping! I had so much fun spending part of that money on a $70 Walkman (Now with Auto Reverse and Mega Bass! Ooooh!), some clothes, cassette tapes and dinner that I had missed my flight. GAH!
I ran as fast as I could thinking I could make it, but the plane had already gone... I was without a watch and running about an hour behind. I was terrified! What would they do to me when they found out I had missed my plane for shopping? I was near tears when I got to the counter, and the attendant was so nice to me that she bumped someone so I could have a seat on the next flight.
This was the beginning of my serendipitous meeting with my future husband. Who would I be sitting next to? Yup, you guessed it... business men.
I have to admit though, I did look pretty hot in my dress uniform...
Tune in for part five- the final installment- where I introduce the guy that kind of annoyed me... right into loving him!
*I hear a collective Awwwww coming from the ladies, and a groan from the guys in my head right now*
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
As the plane touched down in Orlando, Florida I realized a few things. My nights of fantasizing about killing my mother in her sleep were over. I know... shocking, but true. I never had the guts to do it. Somewhere in my mind I always pictured her waking up and killing me instead, that's how afraid of her I was back then. That thought alone kept me nailed to my bed. I knew she was capable. I look back at that time with almost a comfort. I'm glad I didn't kill her, mostly because I would have spent the rest of my life in prison. I wouldn't be here, at this moment today.
Living at Lila's for two months had given me a taste of what life actually was. I was a little scared not to have someone controlling my every move, and making my decisions for me.
The first day of boot camp was interesting. You know those movies where you see two Gunny Sargents yelling for the princesses to get out of bed as they bang on an empty garbage can? Then proceed to spray the recruits with spittle while screaming in their faces? That's not a silly stereotype. They actually do that stuff. As a punishment for bringing all the crap my recruiters told me I could, and for appearing like a complete and utter "princess", I got the joy of lugging a 60 pound bag to each and every place we went that day, including chow, inoculations, and uniform fittings. Maybe it was that classic Mickey Mouse sweat shirt I was wearing.
Two weeks into it, I had found my niche. I had quickly realized that being in a place that treated me like a nobody, yelled insults, and ordered me around every second of the day... was actually a little better than home. I thought to myself- in the midst of doing my 60th push up- that I have endured so much worse, this was actually a piece of cake.
Boot camp did have it's hilarious moments too. Our barracks was about half the length of a football field. Since I was one of the last few to fill up the company, my bunk was on the opposite end of our Company Commander's office. While the CC was up at the front screaming at our fellow booters, holding us in upright push up position for minutes on end, us lucky summuma guns at the end were resting on our knees. She'd start down our way and we'd pop up off of our knees. Also, I became very good at sleeping on my feet. I managed to drown out the noise of my CC's yelling and screaming- heck I was used to that- with my own rhythmic breathing. A few times I almost toppled over, and after that a fellow recruit across from me would start making faces to keep me awake. Thank God I was at the other end of the barracks, because her crossed eyes kept me awake alright, and I would shake shudder in silent laughing fits, all while standing at attention. A few times she even farted, all for my benefit.
Later, after boot camp when we arrived at our first duty station, I would show her my gratitude by buying her a Sony Walkman. :O)
My Company Commander asked us one day if any of us wanted to be in the boot camp choir, preforming at graduations for booters. I piped up, the first to thrust my hand up out of about 15. My CC asked me to stand up and sing something, and to please not embarrass her (no mention of embarrassing myself). After weeks of hearing Anita Baker's sultry voice coming from my CC's office in our barracks, and that being the only music I had heard in weeks, I took a brave breath and belted Anita's Sweet Love as clear and sweet as I could. Singing her favorite artist's song... Call it sucking up, call it self preservation, call it what ever you want. I call it pretty darn smart since it got me out of weeks and weeks of drills (marching with a gun) and chow hall duty .
Boot camp seemed to fly by for me after that, even though I was getting up at o'dark thirty in the morning everyday for choir practice. My company got up at about 5:30 every morning, and I think we got up a whole hour before they did. Even though we had to fill our time with busy work after we got back from choir practice- while the rest of the company was drilling- like cleaning the barracks bathroom for the third time in 2 days... being in the choir had its perks. We were told to also sweep and mop, and each of us would clean then take a nap while pretending to dust the underside of the bottom bunks. Genius. We never got caught.
My family flew down for my boot camp graduation, we had Chinese and went to Disneyland with a cute booter ( Bill, a guy I met in choir) and his family. My mother got mad because I wanted to spend time with the cutie and not her... and we made plans to go to a "booter party"- which was code for getting naked in his parents hotel room. ;O) What happened next was sweet yet embarrassing... my step-dad, having never talked to me about sex before, asked me if I had condoms. Imagine my surprise. Barely able to speak, let alone look him in the eye, I muttered I would get some.
That night we missed curfew coming back to base, and were within seconds of being held back for another 8 weeks because we had broken the rules. After the taxi dropped us off at the front gate I never ran so hard in my life, and my lungs burned so bad I was certain I could taste blood. Luckily, the Petty Officer that was on duty that night at the security desk had a crush on my CC, so he pretended that he didn't see us come in 2 minutes late. He looked up at the clock a few minutes after that pretending he just saw us. The next day my family flew home, and a few days after that I was on my way to Great Lakes to start Corps School. I never saw the cutie again.
All the while, I had been saving up part of my paycheck in a Navy sponsored program called the G.I. Bill. They would match the 12% of my paycheck that was deducted every month and set it aside for college. we could also send money home if we wanted. Pppsshhh yeah, right! The rest of my paycheck was kept back for the whole 8 weeks except for 20 bucks we had to buy what we needed at the commissary. Soooo, at the end of 8 weeks I was presented with a $1,200 check.
Hmmm, I was at Orlando International , which was part shopping mall, part airport. I had 1,200 bucks in my hand... what was a girl to do? Heck ya, I went shopping! I had so much fun spending part of that money on a $70 Walkman (Now with Auto Reverse and Mega Bass! Ooooh!), some clothes, cassette tapes and dinner that I had missed my flight. GAH!
I ran as fast as I could thinking I could make it, but the plane had already gone... I was without a watch and running about an hour behind. I was terrified! What would they do to me when they found out I had missed my plane for shopping? I was near tears when I got to the counter, and the attendant was so nice to me that she bumped someone so I could have a seat on the next flight.
This was the beginning of my serendipitous meeting with my future husband. Who would I be sitting next to? Yup, you guessed it... business men.
I have to admit though, I did look pretty hot in my dress uniform...
Tune in for part five- the final installment- where I introduce the guy that kind of annoyed me... right into loving him!
*I hear a collective Awwwww coming from the ladies, and a groan from the guys in my head right now*
Just outside my door...
Scroll down for part three of You had me at "you kind of annoy me" :O)
***Edit to add: I'm sorry to bloggers I missed in my story, you have been added. I didn't see ya sneak in there at the end... scroll down to see the rest of our Front Door Story.***
There is a grunt load of snow! I have to say, my front yard doesn't usually look that pretty. So, that's the exciting view from this old brick house. If you would like to see the view from other bloggers, head on over to Vicki's.
Her Grand Idea was to have people post pictures of what they see out of their front door everyday. Pretty cool idea, I am really enjoying seeing what other bloggers see in their neck of the woods.
I was noticing at At Vicki's site that she had all of the participants listed. I started to read the names of the blogs and decided to make up a silly story, following the list in exact order that she had it. Enjoy!
I'm sure that all the other participants are Dreaming of What If's of Strawberries and Champagne, just as I am! I'm heading over right now, and I'm sure there will be some Small Town Rambling(s) on My Way. I'll be wondering who Loves Rain as my senses are Waking Up in the chilly air. Though I know nothing about Anecdotes, Antidotes, and Anodes, I do know a little about being an Ice Cream Mama.
I didn't say it was your fault, but because I'm rambling on and on, I have gotten lost. I'm sending an S.O.S. , and I'm hoping The Dust Will Wait. It just wouldn't be A Family Story without Dirty Uncle Mark and some Mama Drama, and though this might not make any sense- I'm Almost Somewhat Positive that A Dingo's Got My Barbie.
Hah, now I know where I'm going, I just passed Another Chance Ranch. Now that I am almost there, I am wondering if being a Mom To 3 Cubs can drive a woman to her Pensieve. I don't want to know. :O) If you are like me, that seems a little too Voodooesque.
OK, yes... almost there. I'm turning right on Tiggerlane. I really want to go The Electronic Firefly, where I hear that they have a very nice man posting signs above toilets. ;O)
Crazy Is As Crazy Does, Don't Try This At Home.
*** Added late, sorry guys!***As I neared Vicki's place, I wondered if I shouldn't have brought something... but then I thought,"Enter a Room con queso?No. This is Cyprus, that's not how they roll." I then realized I had been talking an awful lot to my self on this walk... but there was time for one more question!
"Are We There Yet?"
I cracked myself up. I was cold, and remembered that I just happened to have some Peppermint Tea in my purse. How lucky! I wouldn't be walking empty handed after all, I thought to myself, as I hummed Living La vida Claudia.
As I rounded the corner to Vicki's place, Mrs. CPA greeted me at the door, and forewarned me that the topic of conversation was about going From Fattie to Hottie in 6 months. Poor Kurt, he didn't know what to make of it all and looked a little embarrassed. I rescued him by asking him to help me make tea, and giggles followed us as we moved to the kitchen. Everyone enjoyed their visit at Vicki's, as we all sipped tea and exchanged pictures of the view from our own front doors.
***Edit to add: I'm sorry to bloggers I missed in my story, you have been added. I didn't see ya sneak in there at the end... scroll down to see the rest of our Front Door Story.***
There is a grunt load of snow! I have to say, my front yard doesn't usually look that pretty. So, that's the exciting view from this old brick house. If you would like to see the view from other bloggers, head on over to Vicki's.
Her Grand Idea was to have people post pictures of what they see out of their front door everyday. Pretty cool idea, I am really enjoying seeing what other bloggers see in their neck of the woods.
I was noticing at At Vicki's site that she had all of the participants listed. I started to read the names of the blogs and decided to make up a silly story, following the list in exact order that she had it. Enjoy!
I'm sure that all the other participants are Dreaming of What If's of Strawberries and Champagne, just as I am! I'm heading over right now, and I'm sure there will be some Small Town Rambling(s) on My Way. I'll be wondering who Loves Rain as my senses are Waking Up in the chilly air. Though I know nothing about Anecdotes, Antidotes, and Anodes, I do know a little about being an Ice Cream Mama.
I didn't say it was your fault, but because I'm rambling on and on, I have gotten lost. I'm sending an S.O.S. , and I'm hoping The Dust Will Wait. It just wouldn't be A Family Story without Dirty Uncle Mark and some Mama Drama, and though this might not make any sense- I'm Almost Somewhat Positive that A Dingo's Got My Barbie.
Hah, now I know where I'm going, I just passed Another Chance Ranch. Now that I am almost there, I am wondering if being a Mom To 3 Cubs can drive a woman to her Pensieve. I don't want to know. :O) If you are like me, that seems a little too Voodooesque.
OK, yes... almost there. I'm turning right on Tiggerlane. I really want to go The Electronic Firefly, where I hear that they have a very nice man posting signs above toilets. ;O)
Crazy Is As Crazy Does, Don't Try This At Home.
*** Added late, sorry guys!***As I neared Vicki's place, I wondered if I shouldn't have brought something... but then I thought,"Enter a Room con queso?No. This is Cyprus, that's not how they roll." I then realized I had been talking an awful lot to my self on this walk... but there was time for one more question!
"Are We There Yet?"
I cracked myself up. I was cold, and remembered that I just happened to have some Peppermint Tea in my purse. How lucky! I wouldn't be walking empty handed after all, I thought to myself, as I hummed Living La vida Claudia.
As I rounded the corner to Vicki's place, Mrs. CPA greeted me at the door, and forewarned me that the topic of conversation was about going From Fattie to Hottie in 6 months. Poor Kurt, he didn't know what to make of it all and looked a little embarrassed. I rescued him by asking him to help me make tea, and giggles followed us as we moved to the kitchen. Everyone enjoyed their visit at Vicki's, as we all sipped tea and exchanged pictures of the view from our own front doors.
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~
I forgot to mention yesterday in my Miscellaneous Soup that on Saturday night I put Anna to bed. She rolled away from me, paused, then said over her shoulder, " Hey mom, I think that the next time you go shopping you should pick up a bag of mints."
Not some mints, not a mint. A bag of mints. It sucks to be me sometimes. ;O)
Not some mints, not a mint. A bag of mints. It sucks to be me sometimes. ;O)
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