Advice to ME at 23

Saw this post idea on another blog today- and thought "WOW!" Of all the things I've learned in life, I think I have learned so much SINCE I was 23. If only I could know then what I know now... Everything before then was just a warm up. Hah!



Thirst Thursday...or any day ending in Y!



Dear 23 Year Old Me,

     Congratulations on graduating college and submitting your Navy OCS package. In 6 years, this will all make sense and you'll be better for what is about to happen to you. Dump the asshole you're dating. He's a jerk, a liar, and cheater. While he will divorce his wife, he will also knock her up. Run. Far. Away. Go out and have as much fun with your friends as you possibly can and don't worry about finding a boyfriend. Men at this age don't want to get married, and the ones who say they do are lying. You shouldn't want to either. You're ONLY 23 and have no idea how great your life is going to be in the next 5 years without a serious boyfriend or husband.

     Before you leave for OCS in September, you're going to get super sick in August and wind up quitting your job.  It's ok because your boss will try to fire you anyway due to some mis-information spread by a gossiping co-worker. Just a tip, don't make friends with ANYONE that works there. They all suck. When you get to OCS, you're going to make 2 really good friends. The rest of your class is a big bunch of assholes and will make your time in Newport a challenge. You will also meet a boy. You're going to fall for him, but he will break your heart. And breakup with you on a text message. It will make for great blog material later! I'll get to that soon.

     On a sad note, this will be your last birthday [your 24th] to celebrate with Grandpa because his time will come while you're living in Georgia next year. It's going to be ok because now you'll have a guardian angel! Norfolk will be great for you. The ship you go to is a good one and you'll make some great friends. You will also meet some assholes. A lot of them. Don't let that discourage you in your career and life in general. Especially when you decide to move to California to be with your boyfriend...that you will marry.

     Your wedding is not going to be in Vegas, or the courthouse- it will be in a Church, and planned by everyone but you. Just roll with it. Your friends and new family will have a great time and at the end of the day you will be married to a pretty awesome guy :) Oh, did I mention you won't be married until 28? (pause for reaction)  THAT'S FREAKING OK! I know right now that seems like a really long way a way, but seriously. When you're 28, you will completely understand how important your single years were for you to learn and just be your own woman and have fun!

     Oh, and you'll adopt 2 new fur children while living in Georgia- and they will even move with you all the way to California. Your Mom is gonna get really mad, but then she will meet them and try to steal them. Several times. Seriously they're gonna be super cute and they might even grow on Ben- your future Mr. :)

     You will seriously take up running, figure skating, and skiing. No, I'm not making this part up. And you'll be good at it! You will own a Mini Cooper when you move to California. Never heard of it? That's ok. You'll make some really good friends in California too- your coworkers will be WAY more fun.

     All in all, just go out and have a great time.  You have lots of greatness ahead of you :)

Love,
28 year old Me

    

What is normal?

* this might not make sense- but it was necessary*

For the next 2 weeks I'm living alone with my kitties in the house I share with my future husband. 7 days after those two weeks are up- I will be his wife. The Mrs... The old ball and chain... The battle axe...The Little Mrs. Yep, the wedding has finally arrived.

Freedom!!!!!

As my last "single girl" weeks draw to a close, this alone time is a blessing to reflect on this whole ordeal and accept my identity crisis. Ever since my first candle pass in my sorority, I couldn't wait to one day have a man and [non Marquis cut] rock of my own. How fun to be engaged and have bridesmaids and a yummy cake?! This happens to every girl upon college graduation, right? As many long time friends know, the college relationship I shared with a guy that everyone thought was destined to end in marriage, did not. Boohoo. YIPEEEE!!!
Finally I was free! Free to date around and flirt and mingle and have fun. Welllllll maybe I should have reigned in my fun because my open heart took quite a pounding over the next 6 years...leaving me what was recently referred to as "sadly jaded". It's true. I am unfortunately instantly untrusting of people in general, and my time away from home, moving around has not exactly helped restore my once blissfully ignorant happy nature. Now I have been labeled as someone who is "not nice" and "doesn't think very Christian." To say that to a girl who grew up attending Church twice a week for 12+ years, doesn't sit quite right. At all. First of all, the more time has passed since my care free days as a single college senior- the more I struggle to relate to the women in my family. Then I joined the Navy- and upon meeting other women realized that no, I can't make friends so easily anymore. Suddenly a kind word and friendly attitude is taken for stupidity and flirting- not just being a Christian gal and showing kindness to a neighbor.  This concept I'll never understand, but have learned to adapt to. Mostly.

There I am... 25 and as Ms. Yearwood sang, "...trying to make it in her daddy's world." No boyfriend or even a prospect, no money- just a degree, a low paying full time job, and a whole life I was leaving behind to find where I was supposed to go and be the person I am meant to be; See the world, and serve honorably. The Navy was not always a dream of mine. As much as I love it, it really wasn't.  For so long when family suggested joining I rejected the idea because I'd have to leave home and cut my hair. Truth be told, I wanted to go to graduate school and work at a college. I loved college and never wanted to leave. My friends were there and the classes were fun and challenging.

But away I went to the experience of a lifetime.  Finally I realized that being a Navy girl is not attractive and the likelihood of me following suit with my non-Navy friends of ever being married in my 20's really wasn't looking too good. Left and right, engagements popped up, bouquets were tossed, and eventually families grew. Not only did I miss out on those amazing moments with my friends- nothing remotely similar was happening to me. (WTF, universe?!) Instead I was dumped via a text message by one boyfriend, later wound up on a date with a guy who still lived at home and didn't have a job, and then it was time move [AGAIN!] and to deploy. When you're leaving the country for 7+ months, relationships don't start. They look great, and free dinners are nice but things don't go anywhere. Finally I caved. Single. That was me. And upon much reflection and unrest- I learned to accept it. But Single to me meant more than just not having a boyfriend- it meant not having any real friends around either. No one came to visit me...in any of the places I've lived. Of course my girls at home would always be my girls, but my two closest Navy gal pals were on opposite sides of the globe. Ironically also both getting married. Seriously. And to top it off, none of my coworkers wanted anything to do with me. And they all hated each other too. Seriously. Made for a long 7 months. Working 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 212 days straight- and instead of the mentorship and friendship that I thought would come along with my first time at a Division Officer, I got ignored for not wanting to date a coworker and for not being a kiss ass to the upper leadership.  That's not how I was raised. I was raised to work hard and advance on my own merit, to earn respect instead of demanding it and to respect others even if I don't care for them personally.

This. Totally. Happened. To me.

I supposed the feeling I'm really trying to convey is that I felt left out- which isn't unfamiliar to me in the slightest. As a kid  I got left out because I went to school where my Mom taught. Naturally kids think I got special treatment and that's why I did well. Quite the opposite happened. I was given no leeway, and any trouble at school followed me home including punishments. So really, I worked twice as hard to do well and was treated as though I didn't really earn it. That concept often follows women in the Navy- and is incredibly frustrating.  So I worked hard at this job. Long hours, long weeks, long months. And I wondered why this feeling of being "outside" always crept in.  I worked just as hard as everyone else- could my decision to join have been a mistake? What if the Navy isn't for me? What happened to the Navy I grew up hearing about? Why is everyone SUCH a jerk? I don't know if I can take 16 more years of the mental abuse and strain on my personal life. Hostessing at a restaurant wasn't even this bad!!!!! Everyone's life around me is moving forward- masters degrees and babies and weddings. Do I not deserve that too? Maybe it wasn't- I never dreamed about a wedding as a little girl. Apparently many little girls do this? None of my friends did. Of course, this is because I played in the woods with boys, building forts or playing Mario Cart on rainy days and riding bikes. There were no girls around to be friends with... that my mother approved of. Even my barbiedoll phase was short lived.

You know Jesus is watching?...Santa too.

As an adult, the idea of a wedding seemed exhausting- my parents were married in a courthouse. Mom wore a pants suite. While this idea is much too casual and hippie for me, I like the simplicity of it. I'm an independent girl and what I find more desirable than a fabulous china pattern is a man who loves me. Who is honest, because too many were not. Someone who loves my family, and my friends, and me just as I am- stubborn, and independent. Someone who needs me as much as I need him, and who shares my beliefs, and dreams, and wants to make some of our own. Forget bridal showers, and petit fours, and blenders, and poofy dresses.  Cause no matter how skinny you are on your wedding day, it won't change anything about the course your marriage will take. I think [from what I've witnessed] it's your mindset going in- it's accepting all of each other and having reasonable and complimentary expectations of yourself, each other, and the union. The relationship, the partnership, the union before God matters most to me. The commitment and the confidence...and the trust.

And then it happened- and I suddenly instead of giddiness, I wound up feeling wrong again. Not that the engagement was wrong or that it wasn't what I wanted.... but that bride gene that most girls have? Yeah- um, I think I skipped that issue when it was happening. I wasn't excited about picking a place or cake or menu or whatever, and my poor groom just looked at me with confusion. Well, DUH I am girly and love girly things--- so why don't I like any of this stuff as much as other girls? I didn't even know what kind of dress I wanted until it was zipped up on me in the dressing room. The rest of the details sort of fell into place. Can he love the non-bride-Bride that will float toward him in 19 days? Do other women my age or my generation feel this way? The sight of wedding planning just makes them want to scream?

It's just not me. Period. At all. I'm not the "oh-my-God-everyone-pay-attention-to-me-NOW! ALL DAY!" sort of person. And just because I am the bride, doesn't mean I'll become one. I'm more of a "hey ya'll, come get some cake and let's have some drinks and celebrate our union!" I hope that he will love me for the un-Bride that I am, and know for sure that I won't cut my hair off, gain weight, and stop..uh, well, ya know? This isn't normal according to all my planning books but oh well.
He will marry me knowing that I don't give a rats ass about the details- because all the things that I could ever want for a wedding and our marriage are things we already have, and they didn't come from a registry <3

One man's trash is not my treasure

KEVLAR: keep your walls bulletproof!

Yeah. This really sucks.

     3,186 miles later, 3 time zones, and 1800 square feet later- we're getting settled here in [sometimes] sunny California. Not contrary to popular advice, moving in with a significant other is hard. Even harder when you couple that with moving across the country where you know no one else and are starting a new job. There should seriously be a book for women that teaches us how to cohabitate and manage our emotions so we don't scream "WHY THE F*** DID YOU THINK THAT <insert awful man-coration here> BELONGED IN OUR <insert room in house here>??" (man-coration: adjective- decoration from the boyfriend that has existed longer than it should have, and somehow wound up in the new house but won't necessarily remain a permanent fixture). It doesn't help that of ALL my belongings that travelled from VA to CA, my dresser didn't make it. So after a month, I am still functioning via little organized piles of my clothing stacked around the bedroom and the sitting room outside the bedroom.  It is really annoying because I hate clutter.  And they broke the glass on several pictures, and the frame on another. Rawr! But anyway, back on track for this post...

The 1/2 of the garage...

My entry way from the garage.

...the other 1/2 of the garage.

Man Cave.

     Something about straight men we ladies should keep in mind is that they are organized [in their own twisted, way], but it will almost never be to most womens' level of satisfaction. This will not change. It's only been a month of living together officially, and I've accepted it. Why? Well, let's look at the logic- he, like most boys, has been this messy and crazy his whole life. Moving in with me will not instantly make him HGTV organized. Sooooo just accepting what's a fact will make both our lives easier. (oorrrrrrr just mine) Unfortunately, it doesn't stave off my insane, uncontrollable anger that welled up when I looked in our guest room after about a month of cohabitation and realized it was more of a disaster than the day we arrived. The first week I was here, it only took a few days before the whole unpacking and getting settled thing wore out it's welcome.  Ben didn't get any extra time off to help me which was just a bummer.  And let me tell you, gals- when your man comes home from work, he does NOT want to unpack, fold, organize, rearrange, or clean A N Y T H I N G. Not even his gun. (well.... maybe).  So I was flying "Operation: Sacksen-House-Set-Up" on my own.  First thing I realized? Hangers are for his Church clothes. That's it. And to him, the floor is where everything else goes. Seriously.

Scary, right?

TADA!!!!! The lamp works, and the sheets are fresh!

      So finally, this past week Ben was working late and really stressed, and my meter had been pegged on the guest room.  A few days prior to the grand reorganization of this room that was about to happen, I'd tasked Ben with taking several boxes downstairs to go in our storage cabinets near the garage. Or at least that's where I thought they went. Soooo I strolled in on Wednesday afternoon from the beach to see ALL the boxes ALL OVER THE ROOM [on top of all his other shit that was covering the floor and bed]. Yep... That. Was. It. I mentally prepared myself and went in.  All I have to say is that it is AMAZING how after only about 2 hours of folding, sniffing (and shuddering), stacking, hanging, bed making, and organizing- I made the room look like someone could actually sleep there and not wakeup screaming in the middle of the night. Now, it's no where near where I'd like it to look... but with the arrival of his real, big boy dresser it should get most of his clothing out of the cheap plastic furniture he's carried over from college and into the bedroom.  Then some pictures and curtains can go up and maybe even a rug on the floor.

View from the sliding door.

    In conclusion, living together is a lot of fun because we get to see each other every day- but men and women really are different and learning which battles to fight is a daily challenge in itself. And so far, it's worth it.  Stay tuned for more fun posts of our adventures!!!

"...that bwessed awangment."

“Mawage, that bwessed awangment, that dweam wifin a dweam.” Yes yes, The Princess Bride is hilarious. Now onto more serious matters.

So handsome!

When I was in college, almost every senior in my sorority was engaged by the time she donned her cap and gown.  The saying was “You come to college to find your husband, you join your sorority to find your bridesmaids.” Gag me, right? Yeah that’s what I thought too.  Wedding after wedding, chicken dance after electric slide, I thought for sure my turn would be coming in a few years.  After all, the college boyfriend and I were “that couple” and everyone was certain we were headed towards matrimonial bliss.  Then reality and fate stepped in and I ninja-bitch-kicked that twerp to the curb. THANK GOODNESS! Fortunately for this princess many years of frogs were ahead of me. Yuck!  Meanwhile, I attended many weddings, watching all my girlfriends marry their Mr. Right and soon after, begin producing perfect little tiny people.  So after about age 25 I sort of just hung up the whole idea that I was going to get to join the club of wedded bliss.  For real.  Call it [and me] bitter, I prefer “realistic”.  I thought if I really met the right person, we’d just do something small and simple. NBD. My family is small… so it’d be easy to plan. Hahahaha! That notion it hilarious to me now. 

Why is that funny, you wonder? Well, if you haven’t met my fiancé then it wouldn’t make sense. He and his family do nothing in moderation.  [Perfect example: We opened presents on Christmas Day…all day. Until dinner. Seriously.] So once we got engaged, and reality set in I realized my idea of something simple and small was lost in the dust. Big time.

Sneaky boyfriend...the ring was in his shirt pocket!!!

To clarify, the act of getting engaged is awesome.  Words don’t do justice to how it felt seeing the man of my dreams on one knee, blinding me with a diamond ring, in the most beautiful place I’d ever been. I was so stunned that instead of crying like most girls do [or say that they do] I just sorta of dropped my jaw in disbelief and kept saying “Oh my God this is really happening. Oh my God. Oh my God….” Sneaky boyfriend! Unfortunately for most couples, the amount of stress and pressure that soon after follows is more like a nightmare [sorry, babe] that doesn’t seem like it’ll end until after the last “Thank You” note is mailed off. 

So let’s just put this out there…the ugly truth, if you will. Being engaged is not the dream that every girl envisions. Seriously, there should be a manual issued to every gal over 21 breaking down all the unfortunate truths of being an adult not living the life we see on “Keeping up with the Kardashians”. [hmm… maybe this manual idea will become another solid post that my buddy Rob will enjoy.]  Weddings cost money, no matter how big or small you want it and as every bride discovers- http://www.theknot.com/ is bursting with vendors ready to rape you for every penny you’re willing to spend, and millions of ideas that most of us non-billionaires can’t afford.  [The better websites for my fabulous gals on a budget? http://www.pinterest.com/ and http://www.etsy.com/ .] 

In addition to feeling like a terrible Bride because you can’t afford a bag of personalized M&M’s or with your initials and date, everyone (family and/or wedding party) has an opinion.  Where to have it. Who to invite. What to wear. What to eat. Which church…the list goes on. RAWR! Help is welcome.  Negativity is not. It makes me a cranky-pants-Bride and then my MOH has to regulate!

Lucky for B and I, we’re footing the bill so what we say goes. Period. <insert ‘plan laugh’ >

The thing that has actually disappoints me most is not that I don’t have $50,000 to spare or that my family has been less than enthusiastic about my wedding, it’s actually the “marriage advice” that I get from RUDE people.  Most of the time, I appreciate a little wisdom from the other officers in my Wardroom or people that I know. But we have a lot of jackasses around…and these crusty old farts really should just keep it moving. Instead of the usual sweet stuff you hear like “Never go to bed angry”, “Always kiss me goodnight”, these jerk faces say things like:

“Hope you got a pre-nup!”

“So you’re really getting married, huh?”

“Wait, you’re getting married to another service member? And you’re both active duty? HA! Good luck!”

“Just wait until you have kids…then your life is over.”

“So, still getting married?”

“Don’t get fat, cut your hair, or stop putting out.”

“Why are you getting married? You’re life is over- your husband isn’t going to let you go out and do anything.”

“Hm. Guess you weren’t planning on staying in the Navy. Wait, you are? Why? Get out and just stay home and have children.”

Seriously.

For the record, I am not interested in the fact that you’ve gone years in your marriage with no sex and you weren’t even deployed. Or that you and your spouse had a ton of kids way too early in your marriage and lost the romance that brought ya’ll together. Or that your wife just won’t put out; and that your kids are brats.  Hell, if I was your wife I wouldn’t either since you have a nasty attitude like that. Maybe it’s time to take a look in the mirror there, pops. It takes two, ya know?! Geez, if you’re that unhappy do what every other middle aged fat ass man having a midlife crisis in America does. Divorce your wife, buy a sports car, get a dumb haircut, a fake tan, and a 22 year old bimbo girlfriend.

I smile and laugh and tell them they’re being silly, but they just look at me like I’m a moron and have no idea what I’m getting myself into. It’s in those moments I wish I’d been just as rude back to them.  I’m about one more negative comment away from invoking my mother’s statement of “If you’ve nothing kind to say to me keep it to yourself.”

…NOT WELCOME HERE!

I don’t know what I’m getting myself into. How could I? I’ve never been married before and honestly no one really knows what the hell they’re doing when they say “I do”… but the few important things I do know is that I love him, we are committed each other and to our life together, and the rest is just details that will work themselves out one way or the other. And I’m always right J HA!

xoxo

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

For my birthday this year, my sweet boyfriend took me to Wyoming (i.e. The Most Beautiful Place on Earth!). We are visiting his grandparents at their ranch. So far things are off to a good start. We've never spent more than 2 days apart in almost 7 months. Soooo after 5 days of missing him, the aiport was bound to be an embarrassing scene..haha! See how this went:

Unsuspecting boyfriend...

Then he sees me...barreling toward him 

Needless to say, I was excited to see him!

...and embarrass him with lots of PDA!

Of course, the kitties were missed...but they'll make the next trip. Whether boyfriend likes it or not!  heh!

MANswers

The day after Irene, B and I spent the day at his place with his roommates. An AMC. As the afternoon passed, we were bumming around the living room completely engrossed in MM. They are now just as hooked as B and I are. Yay! First it's fun because anytime we finish an episode via Netflix, we finger-to-nose to see who'll click "Play Next Episode". Really mature, right? And second, now I have another gal to gossip about the drama of the show with. B likes the show, but for different reasons than me. I mean, when I gush about loving a character's wardrobe; there's really nothing for him to contribute to that. Then it's just a one-sided conversation and that sucks. I can do that all by myself! And it's completely fine that he doesn't smack his hands together and say "oh yes! her shoes are just fabulous!". Well, sometimes he does but he's certainly not serious.
 Also during our lazy afternoon MMM (Mad Men Marathon), the boys suddenly ganged up on the girls and vice versa and I learned a new word. "Manswer." What is a manswer? Let's explore, shall we?!

MANswer: an expected, sarcastic, and often not-quite-true response from a man that does not answer his lady's question.  (noun; adj; verb.)

I will get you!

Example #1
FB: "Oh since you're up can you get me another beer?"
FG: "Why? Am I your maid now?"

WARNING! WARNING! MANSWER ON THE WAY!
FB: "No, but you just look so sexy when you pop the top off the bottle."

TRUTH: He did not want to get up off the couch and tricked you with a complement! Beware of "MANswers" ladies... BEWARE!!!!!!

IRENE: The Little Hurricane That Could

"I think I can! I think I can!"

Hurricane Irene. She ought to be ashamed of herself. Why? You see, I'm a Florida girl and have survived a Category 4 hurricane so anything less than that is just a little ole' rainstorm with some wind-a-blowin. So her weak performance over the weekend proved that she was indeed the worst excuse for a hurricane I've ever seen.

Irene became a blip on our radars about a week ago. She whipped up into a nasty little Category 3 storm that set her sights on the east coast. Quite a pucker factor for The Carolinas through New England since none of these folks have seen a hurricane since Isabel a few years back. In traditional Navy fashion, no real concern was shown until about 48 hours before she was scheduled to arrive. Then it turned into an all out "holy-shit-get-the-F***-out-of-here" mass exodus. Therefore, 2nd Fleet fled the area on Thursday. By Friday night Irene had been downgraded to hit VA as a Category 1. Drats! I was counting on her to wreak enough havoc so that I could be flooded into my apartment for a few days and not have to go to work on Monday.  B stocked us up with enough water and snacks to last a week so we were certainly ready... and then the disappointment came slowly ashore.

"As you can see, conditions have begun to deteriorate"

First, we got our fill of screaming news reporters during breakfast. One of which included a streaker. Full frontal and all! The storm really wasn't that bad, but of course it's just awful when you've buried your feet in the beach sand, are shouting into the microphone, and we can't even see you- just a dark silhouette amidst a lot of wind and water. Seriously? You look really dumb standing in that kind of weather telling everyone on TV how dangerous it is and that they should really stay inside. Well, we're watching you act crazy. So why don't you come on in!!!

Irene caused her less-than-extreme havoc from Saturday on through the wee hours of Sunday morning. Torrential rain, somewhat gusty winds, gloomy gray skies, and panicky news reporters. B and I had ourselves a little Mad Men marathon all day.  The last time I spent all day in front of the TV was in 09 and I was super drugged up thanks to my wisdom teeth extraction. But this past Saturday [sadly] was not spent in a narcotic-laced-ice-cream haze. I was instead hiding from the storm with B, doing laundry, sipping cocktails, and glued to the drama of the 1960's Ad exec's and their endless string of cocktails, cigarettes, and illicit affairs...until about 2300. I fell asleep not caring anymore about the storm, wishing I had Joan's wardrobe, and just hoping I wouldn't see my dinner again. Darn you vodka!

In the morning, the sunshine was peeking through the curtains (oof! hangover), the kitties were purring and snuggly, and alas it appeared that Norfolk and the Hampton Roads area was still in 1 piece. All in all, it wasn't a bad experience. We never lost power, ate delicious home cooked meals all day (including peanutbutter-chocolate chip cookies), I finished all of our laundry, and spent some QT with my sweet kitties and B.

Sunday was a beautiful day and led 99% of the HR residents to the conclusion that we'd COMPLETELY OVER PREPARED FOR THIS STORM. Irene was barely a hurricane as she came ashore for pete's sake! As B and I stopped for lunch supplies, I joked that it would be funny if we saw people in line to return water or other items like chain saws and extra batteries. So as we headed into Wal Mart, we walked past their customer service just to see if anyone would do something so ironic. The laughter that commenced was epic. I could barely keep my hands still as I snapped a pic and giggled. There it was. A few cases of returned water and a woman in line with a shopping cart containing a case of Juicy Juice. I'm not judging- but math wise, these people spent more in gas to return the item than they initially spent to purchase them. I think the 'cherry' on this Sunday would have been to see someone standing in line with a bag of half melted ice...drip. drip. drip.

"Yes ma'am. This certainly is the original ice that came in the bag."

*Side Note: Yes, I'm aware there was irreparable damage done by this storm in some parts of the country, but overall- the area I reside in and work in was not nearly as affected as it could have been. My mother was upset that I referred to Irene as a "joke".  But honestly- if a power outage is the absolute worst thing that went down with this storm, I think we can consider ourselves more than blessed that we dodged a bullet.**

Thank You, Fate!

Better you than me, pumpkin!

Today started out like most days off. Woke up, got some coffee, and signed onto Facebook. (I've accepted my addiction to social networking.) Scrolling through the updates to see what everyone is up to, I began to think about what I'll do with my day... I kept scrolling, and then I stopped. There it was. One of my ex's. Standing next to girl. With multiple chins.  

(cue the giggles)

Not much else says "you won" like seeing such a jerk with such a healthy, happy gal. It made my day. No, seriously. It did. And yes, I know it's not very Christian to laugh at someone else's misfortune. Then again he broke up with me via text message.

Shark Week

Dramatic Music. Antagonizing scientists. Obsolete places on earth. And there's a whole week dedicated to this... awesome. At least B is entertained. And Rachel too :)

Say "Sea Lion!"....yeah. That'll get a smile on his face.

5 Months later...

He said "Hi". I said "Hi"...the rest is history :)

First Lunaversary: April 4, 2011

2nd Lunaversary...so I thought.....

...Yeah, thanks to crappy planes and bad weather it just didn't happen.

The 3rd one fell on a duty-free-Saturday. Woot!!!!

Of course the next one was another duty day. Awesome!

5 months later, Lulu is still trying to woo him away from me.... slut!

The GRA- Your Secret Best Friend

~This post is dedicated to my Rookie. Muahlalalala!!!!!~

The Great Relationship Abyss. She's an invisible force that recognizes how much your current flame sucks and quickly removes it from your life. It's for your own good. How does it work? Read on...

Your eyes meet. Heart races. His smile melts your insides. Lunches, dinners, kisses, meeting each others' friends and/or families. Before you know it you're imagining the monogrammed towels with your new initials hanging in the bathroom at your perfect new home together.

<Insert GRA. much munch munch.>

The next thing you know, it's been a few days [or is it weeks?] since he called. Trying not to panic, you leave him a breezy voice message... followed up by a breezy text. A few more days/weeks pass. He must be busy with work. Maybe he's out of the country.  Did his dog die? Maybe his phone broke. Or the tower fell down?  After you've run out of excuses as to why you haven't seen your 'sweet-baboo', the yucky truth rears it's yucky head. The GRA ate him! You're suddenly single. Again.

Men are not on the GRA's menu. Therefore, your former PMM is NOT a man. He's a C-O-W-A-R-D and will be referred as such from here on out.. Say it out loud._______ Good girl! Now, while listing all the reasons a coward just up and runs away from a relationship would be fun and entertaining, I'll save you amazing readers some time [cause we'll list those reasons in a new post] and sum it up:  

BECAUSE HE SUCKS AT LIFE!

Seriously. So stop caring RIGHT NOW! If a man stops seeing you and doesn't provide a reason- and your relationship lasted more than a month- then you shouldn't waste a 'single minute' (literally) waiting for an explanation. Period.

You kiss your mother with those lying lips??

I say this because it's happened to me quite a few times. If a relationship is going nowhere, don't waste each others' time. Just be honest, and end it. The truly gracious thing to do (though this rarely happens) would be to tell the person how much you've enjoyed their company, but don't feel a romantic connection. If you genuinely want to be friends, say that. Otherwise, save it. 

Telling an FSG "let's just be friends" is like Joan Rivers complimenting Snookie. It's a lie. Don't believe it. Furthermore, no FSG wants to be "just friends" with someone who has [likely] seen her naked and still chosen to break it off. Imagine trying to make small talk while wondering if he's picturing you naked? (PS- He will. He's a guy and he's straight. It's genetic. Deal with it.)

When the GRA eats your man, it hurts. It sucks. You want to know why because every FSG wants an explanation for being wronged! You keep imagining all the things you'd say to him and how hard you would slap him across the face if he were to walk through the door at that moment.  But here's the cold hard facts:

Any reason  EXCUSE a coward could provide is going to:

1. Be a lie.

2. Not be worth the time you would have taken to listen.

3. Piss you off...royally.

Secret Option 4. Be fair game for my next post!

 So, after the table is cleared from the GRA's latest meal (aka: your former man) you'll find a new feeling. And it's called gratitude. Be grateful that the she has removed such a piece of shit from your life. Now you're free to find someone truly deserving of your time and efforts. Who wouldn't want to be with you?  

You're FABULOUS!!!

Who NOT to pick for "What Not To Wear"

That swim suit is being punished. Along with my eyes.

 

"What Not to Wear" is a fantastic show where horribly dressed people get shown the error of their ways, and given $5,000 to fix it. Yes, that's right. FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS!!!! PLUS they get a free haircut & color and a makeup artist shows them how to NOT look like crap. Now being a Christian woman, I'm very supportive of charities for worthy causes and quite frankly, someone's horrible choice in clothing certainly is a worthy cause to me. First, because it offends my eyes. They didn't do anything wrong and shouldn't have to look at such an atrocity on a daily basis. And second, because most folks can't afford to just drop a few grand to revamp their wardrobe on a minute's notice so a little help is always nice. More good karma should be put into the world. That's why [barring really bad service] I always over-tip.

While this all sounds wonderful, there's just a teeny little problem I have with the show's creators..or whoever is in charge of selecting the lucky person to be featured on each episode.

WHY DO YOU PICK THE MOST UNBELIEVABLY UNGRATEFUL SELFISH PEOPLE TO GET $5000 WORTH OF NEW CLOTHES????????????

Seriously!!! It's unfair! The latest episode I watched featured a woman who actually worked at a textile company in the design department, yet she couldn't dress her way out of a paper bag. She's in her 40's, a little heavy set, and thought that white socks, clogs, dumpy shirts, & brightly colored patterned leggings were a good idea for daily wear. Those should only be found on thin, attractive women... and ONLY on October 31st of each year. The tights weren't the worst part, believe it or not. It was actually her attitude. All she did was complain. The whole time. About how everything she picked out to try on looked awful on her. Gee, I'm so sorry, ma'am. That $5000 shopping spree you've been given must really be stressing you out! What a horrible thing to have to burden?! Poor thing...

Keep telling yourself that.

Well, of COURSE all your choices look like shit on you! That's kinda why you're on this show in the first place. You can't even dress yourself with YOUR clothes so thinking that putting on more expensive threads will suddenly make you a size 6 and well dressed is just absurd! And don't even try to blame the store for not carrying the right size or style of clothing for you. No. Just no.

Step 1- know your body type. (pear shaped, busty, no curves, etc.) 

Step 2- know your color pallet. (pale skin + pale shades= bad choice.). 

Step 3-dress for your age. (not the age you wish you were.)

This will make ALL the difference in the world in keeping you looking put together, professional, and attractive.

So who should the producers select for this show? 

A DESERVING, GRATEFUL, PRODUCTIVE 

MEMBER OF SOCIETY!!!  

     Perhaps a new Mom looking to dress for her newly changed body. Maybe someone from the Biggest Loser who doesn't have anything smaller than a camping tent to wear to work. A college graduate who can't afford a professional wardrobe to go out and interview in. A military service member just back from a long deployment. (they defended our country so you, Stacey and Clinton, should protect my eyes!)

 

 

Fitness Fakers

Tonight we're going to explore the world of Fitness Fakers. Yes, that group of ladies who wear workout gear deliberately yet do not workout. At all.

As I browsed the aisles at the grocery store tonight, a woman kept stepping in front of me with a very confused look on her face. And after giving her a once over, I realized her confusion because if I was her I'd feel exaaaactly the same. There she stood with obviously freshly highlighted hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her face was perfectly made up. This adorable little head of makeup and cute hair was atop a petite figure dressed in black running shorts and a black tank top, standing in white...perfectly white athletic shoes. Then she had a cute little vera bradley hipster bag to top of her outfit. Really gave it that "pop of color" that the adorable stylist on E! always suggests.  

At that point, it occurred to me that she was what I like to call a "Fitness Faker".There wasn't an ounce of evidence that she'd been breaking a sweat in any way shape or form. Not even from her car to the door of the supermarket! 

WHO ARE YOU TRYING TO FOOL????

If you worked out, you'd look like this:

In short, try harder. Step FOOT into a gym. Go for a light jog. Give fitness a try! 

Kardashian Mania

Fabulous

I am so ashamed to write this post... I officially have my Sailors hooked on every Kardashian show available on E. "Keeping up with the Kardashians", "Kourtney & Khloe Take Miami", and "Kim and Kourtney Take New York." Yep. I did it. Hahaha!!!!!

Families And Technology. Friend or Foe?

Big Hand? BIG fan :) LIKE!!!!!

     In the last few years, my parents have gotten rather technologically savvy. Dad texts me often and my mom can now shop online, and operate the webcam I sent her and Dad so we can talk via Skype. Sounds dreamy, right? Yes and no. Yes because I love the effort the parentals are putting towards maintaining our close relationship. But no because only a 13 year old "gurl" could decipher my Dad's text messages. He fails to realize that if I'm taking the time to spell out all my sentences like a big girl, then I'd appreciate the same clarity from him. As for Mom, she's even on Facebook. Crazy!

     The comedy starts when my 82 year old grandmother calls me on Skype. She sits too far away from the computer screen AND her camera so most of the time we're communicating via webcam, I'm telling her to lean back so I can see more than just her face at the bottom left corner of the screen...and to turn down the volume (hers and/or the camera). Yelling won't make me hear her better. It will garble the sound and I will hear even less of what she's trying to say. And sometimes she reminds me of President Truman because her classes catch the glare from the window behind the screen and I can't actually see her eyeballs. Bless her heart.

No, these are not my actual parents

     My parents on Skype is Mom-N-Dad's Comedy hour. They pick on each other, poke each other, sometimes Dad tries to feel up Mom, but then he winds up so fascinated by his own image on camera that he starts making faces.... as if Mom and I can't see him doing it.  Meanwhile I'm telling them about what's new with me or we're talking about something or I'm waving the cats' paws at them before they leap out of my arms. It's quite a sight to observe.

Conclusion: My family + technology = FRIEND!

ROFL!...G2G. Kthxbye!

SSB Part I

SSB PART I.

SSB- (Secret Single Behavior) verb. Definition: actions or lifestyle choices that only apply to those who live alone, are not in a relationship, or both. This is behavior we may never demonstrate to a potential mate for fear of judgment, abandonment, etc.

Eating over the sink, not owning a dining room table, never closing the bathroom door…these are all forms of what is commonly referred to as SSB. While ‘In Between Relationships’ (IBR) or Dating Droubts (“DD’s” for short), we sink back into our habits formed while without a significant other. I would say that even a roommate can send these little behaviors into hiding, but for yours truly it’s really not the case. With two male roommates, I happily eat my Chinese take-out in my bed while enjoying reruns of old tv shows on my 20” beast-of-a-box-tv. Yes, even this TV is my SSB. It never occurred to me that my TV was old or small until I brought a date home last summer and he asked “where are the binoculars? Your tv is so small!!!”. It was then that I realized it was time for an upgrade…at some point. Of course, that was delayed thanks to my roommate purchasing a 58” BEAST of a flat screen for our living room. I swear, the homeless guys in the parking lot across the street could probably see the picture on this thing! What else does a guy’s SSB include? Well let’s see…

Guy SSB includes:

- leaving clothing and shoes right-where-they-took-them-off(dining room, bathroom, etc.)

- not flushing, peeing with the door open

- sitting on the couch in boxers

- playing PSP for 6+ consecutive hours

- drinking to excess in the middle of the day

- purchasing groceries ‘as-needed’ instead of planning trips that will last for a few weeks.

- not cooking anything more complicated than toast or soup.

- bringing home random women and having loud sex

- not paying utility bills until the service is cut off

- owning more PSP games than movies

- not owning a real bed…just a mattress on the floor. Box-spring optional.

- not actually owning any real furniture. Just college dorm leftovers.

- using as little light/electricity as possible at any given moment, and preventing anyone else from wasting it by unscrewing light bulbs and unplugging electronics and appliances.

- spending an obscene amount of money on a fancy blue ray player and surround sound, but then wiring it up so that even Houdini couldn’t figure it out on the first try.

- watching Toy Story at top volume WITH surround sound at 1130pm when roommates have to get up for work the next day.

- leaving beer bottles in the shower

- not owning air-freshener for the bathroom or home/apartment

- inviting people over for a dinner party that their SES of the week will actually set up and break down. This duty also includes the ‘awesome’ DS she’ll have later with said guy. (“Self Esteem Susie” to be discussed in a later post.)

- not cleaning the apartment until his mother shows up and immediately dons rubber gloves because her “poor baby shouldn’t live like this!!”

- not owning a coffee pot, just a Keireg single-cup coffee maker because he thinks this makes him look more sophisticated to the FSG’s he brings over and. Truth: he’s just lazy, not fancy!

- having posters…and hanging them on the wall with scotch tape

- never making the bed

- wearing the first clean thing they see on top of the “clean pile”. To hell with color/pattern coordination.

- not owning a real winter coat. Just a ‘trendy’ windbreaker with some athletic or team logo. “Coats are for pussies.”

- owning more condoms than he’ll actually ever go through in a year, and by the time he needs them, they’re expired.

- not owning any dress-clothes (not always true, but more often then not). Besides, what’s wrong with jeans and polished Bates’?

- using the trunk of his car and possibly the oven as “storage”.

- still owning a lava-lamp (over 1yr old) that came in a box that SAID “red” but turned out to be pink.

- identifying with Entourage because it’s “deep”.

- thinking some sort of pasta dish and red wine constitutes a fancy enough dinner to seduce a FSG, but realizing those amateur culinary skills are best saved for the SES’s they go out with IBR’s. An FSG knows better.

- investing a lot of money to stock a “mini bar” to look “sophisticated” to guests and dates. Fixing me a top shelf mohito to sip on while I lounge in your camping chairs arranged in front of your 58” flat screen…please.

-  not owning dishes that feed more than 4 people…or none at all- just some plastic-ware to pair up with your grandmother’s hand-me-down silverware.

- “artfully” arranging 4 months worth of Playboy magazines on the back of the toilet or on the coffee table. Then adding a Yankee “mandle” (manly smelling candle) to add some ‘class’ to the mix.

- finding a roommate with a completely well-furnished apartment, splurging to furnish your room, and then passing off the whole set-up as your own to dates.

- owning an expensive car (sometimes)

- filling the freezer with booze, (if no mini bar is possible) making grocery shopping pointless because none of the food would fit anyway.
- living in a bedroom without a door.
- owning a couch that apparently smells of cigarettes because it was purchased at a flea market.
- sleeping on an airmattress for 7 months before breaking down to buy a bed. 

- refusing to let go of any of these behaviors until he realizes that he’ll never score an FG (Fabulous Girlfriend) unless he does… or hanging onto his absurdity and settling for an SES while secretly pining for an FG.

…coming soon: Part II: Girl SSB.