Week Between Holidays Blahziness

So, Christmas has sadly come and gone for another year and now we are all rapidly approaching what I largely consider to be the most annoying holiday ever.

That's right people, I frickin' hate New Years.

Let me back up. When I was a kid it was "funnish," I guess. We got to stay up late and eat sauerkraut and sausage with sparkling grape juice after watching the ball drop. But of course, by, well, middle school the absolute last place I really wanted to be on any given night was with my Mom and "Step Dad" so the ritual just became torture. By the time I got to high school and early college I did my very best to get myself scheduled to work nice and late on December 31st so as to have a decent excuse to avoid the holiday.

And it wasn't that I was, like, so bummed not to have any significant other to spend the evening with, because to this very day Matt and I rarely even bother to stay up. New Years is just, well, DUMB. And actually, come to think of it Matt and I didn't spend the first 2 New Years of our relationship together. The first year we'd been dating for a few weeks and he had to work and the second year I was in New Orleans with the OSU marching band for the Sugar Bowl. In year 3 we were together since the Buckeyes sucked and didn't go to a bowl game but I started the evening a little early with a few too many tequila shots and by midnight that year I was just trying very hard not to, like, die. So much for partying like it was 1999 (which it was,) How very romantic. I'm positive Matt didn't think so.

But I digress...

Celebrating New Years. Seriously, it's dumb! Hey everyone! Let's all stay up "late" and celebrate the changing of an arbitrary number assigned to our planet as we struggle to organize our own concept of movement through time and space. It's the dumbest thing ever.

And, oh, while I'm at it, since in the next coming week I'm going to struggle to remember to write the correct date on everything, let me make a bunch of dumb declarations about how I shall better myself in this newly numbered time period.

or, you know...

I'll try to.

and if I'm really lucky, maybe I'll manage to keep this resolution for, what, a week and a half?

~~~~~~~~~~~

Here's what happens to me on New Years.

Since I am my mother's daughter (much to every bit of my dismay) I take the opportunity to freak out about all that is to come.

Seriously, my mother had only 2 ways of reacting to things. She either doesn't care or it's like THE WORST THING EVER. Usually it was the latter. The sump pump goes out during a snow storm and the basement, full of nothing but junk anyway floods and... "IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD! EVERYBODY DROP EVERYTHING AND WALLOW IN HOW MUCH LIFE SUCKS!" or, I don't know, one time the stupid little hose that sent water to the refrigerator ice maker snapped and water was slowly dripping all over the "extraordinarily precious" linoleum kitchen floor and she was all... "OH WHOA IS ME! LET'S BLAME THE CHILDREN BECAUSE SURELY ITS THEIR FAULT THE FLOOR IS *GASP* WET! WHATEVER SHALL WE DO!!!!! IT SURELY MUST BE THE END OF THE WORLD! EVERYTHING IS RUINED!!!!'

(Allow me please to take a long moment to roll my eyes.)

But still, though I try to repress it, the genetics are there and I am very sorry to admit that I am wired in a very similar way. While the rational side of me USUALLY keeps me in check, I do tend to have the same "it's the end of the world" way of viewing, well, anything stressful.

Take last year for example... on January 1, 2008 all I could think about was the fact that for 7 of the next 12 months Matt was going to be deployed. How very dismal of me.

And, in the end, the deployment sucked. it really sucked. But we made it through and now we are on the flip side happy and better than ever.

Til New Years.

As 2009 approaches this is was I have on my mind:

I have to finish my teaching portfolio in the next few weeks and clear my credential, if I ever plan on working another year as a teacher in California and I am pregnant which means I'm sick all the time and very soon I will have to get very fat and this is pretty much rendering me completely useless when it comes to fixing up our house, which needs to get fixed up because Matt is transferring this summer and we need to find renters, and oh what if the baby comes early and we haven't moved yet or we don't have housing but oh how will we pay our bills if we don't find renters and oh while I'm at it, why don't I just worry a little bit about whether or not the the baby is going to be healthy...

You get the drift.

Sure, I could be exicted about all the great things to come, but I'm not wired that way. I hear New Years and I start to panic.

None of this stuff is new. Well, the pregnancy stuff is kind of new, but that's not the point, we've known about Matt transferring this summer since BEFORE we even moved out of Japan. Why then am I choosing to worry about it all now?

That's right. Because somewhere, sometime, some one decided we ought to make a big freaking deal out of New Years and take the opportunity reflect on the all the New Year will have to offer us. And all my mind can do is stress out. Me, the same person who, like, 3 nights ago was so content in her life's blessings. I stinking hate New Years. Bah humbug, or something.

Merry Christmas!

Well, this year the time has really gotten away from me. I have a hard time believing it is December let alone Christmas day as everything has been a bit of a blur. School days fly by, evenings and weekends are a hectic mess. Yet, some how, happily, this most magical day is upon us and I find myself with a moment to sit down and just breath a sigh of contentment. And, of course update my blog. :)

I was laying in bed last night like a silly little girl completely unable to sleep with all the Christmas Eve excitement. As I lay there, talking to God in my prayers, I had the most exciting realization... there wasn't anything that I wanted that I needed to pray for. Now hold the phone, yes of course I have things to pray for, family and friends that need blessing, and I always need His guidance. But as I lay there it occurred to me that I have everything I could really ever want for. An awesome husband, who's home safe, and has a successful career, my own satisfying career, two gorgeous adorable cats, one awesome and crazy puppy, a home, my health, a great family, tremendous friends and the child growing in my belly that I've always wished for.

What an awesome thought! God is awesome! He really has given me everything to be grateful for and nothing to want for. And in these trying times, that is nothing to be sneezed at.

So anyway, before I go on, with posting some pictures of our latest antics allow me to say it "out loud" here for all to hear/read: I am so blessed and honored at the joyful life my God has allowed for me, I only hope that all of you are able to find the same feeling of blessedness in your near futures.

Now, as promised some of our latest photos:

Matt and Brutus having a nap together...



Sea World Penguins and snow-penguin...



Us at Sea World during the Christmas celebration...



Sea World's Christmas Camel...



A very sleepy looking reindeer at Sea World (who should have been quite happy since it was raining. Isn't that what they like? Harharhar!)...



Chase and KC in their very favorite spot to sleep this time of year (under the tree of course)...



Matt making Christmas dinner a few minutes ago while Brutus begs to be allowed to "help"...



Matt proudly displaying his Christmas wine purchase, "Three Blind Moose," hehehehee...



And of course, Brutus happily destroying a wrapping paper roll...

Congratulations, its a blurry, bouncing, baby blob!

So, it's been another interesting day. It started off the same as most, until I needed to go to work and called to Brutus to come inside and he wouldn't. I mean he reeeeally wouldn't. He ran from me, up and down the hill for a good, 20 minutes, making me later and later to work. When I finally did catch him he screamed BLOODY murder and I wouldn't be surprised if at any moment the ASPCA showed up on my doorstep to arrest me for puppy abuse.

Maybe I should have just left him outside to potentially get eaten by coyotes.

*sigh*

Anyway, when I did make it school it was a big blur. I'd moved my afternoon classes around to this morning to ensure that I was going to be able to make it down to Miramar in time for my doctor's appointment. It all went by so quickly, if I didn't KNOW I'd been there earlier today, I wouldn't even believe it.

So, this afternoon Matt and I meet up and head off to Miramar. It should be noted that for the last several years we have been delaying any attempts at having babies so that Matt would be able to be around for the pregnancy and especially the birth.
However, by the end of the visit, I was beginning to see a bit of a fault in that plan.

Matt was nervous, I guess, which is absolutely to be expected. I was nervous too. However, when he gets nervous he misbehaves. Period.

First, he vibrated. Literally vibrated in his chair while he waited..

Then he offered assistance where CLEARLY he could give none. (ie, producing a urine sample for me.)

Then he made silly little jokes.

Then I sort of lost it and cried a little. The midwife made it ALLLL better by obliging me with a quick ultrasound right off the bat so that I would stop worrying, calm down and focus on her medical history questions.

He sort of looked at me funny most of the time during the medical history.

It should also be noted that somewhere in there he went to the restroom himself and then took GREAT pride in informing everyone that he'd left the seat up especially since we were in the Women's Clinic.

He stood by my side and looked veeeery uncomfortable during the exam.

Then he stood by my side and looked uncomfortable some more as the lovely Midwife lady literally rearranged the ENTIRE room to get the ultrasound machine in the appropriate position for the formal look. He finally offered to help her, after she was done moving everything.

Then he saw the ultrasound wand and made me really start to wish I hadn't married the "funny guy." Forgetting what she was doing to me, I'm sure it didn't not help to have me laughing nervously at Matt's witty banter.

Seriously, when he's nervous, he makes jokes.

But in the end, we did get some good photos. :)




I bet you're all sitting around wondering now what Matt had to say at catching his first glimpse of his first child. Well, at the time he didn't say much of anything. Later on the way home, he mentioned being surprised how much the baby moved. He also said that the baby, with its arms up by its humongous head looked liked a puppy.

Just what we need in this house. Another puppy.

Confusing things

You'll have to forgive me once again for another blogging hiatus. The prenatal Narcolepsy still has me in bed extraordinarily early every night (especially last week when Matt was at sea.) In addition, I finally finished the original OTC bottle of prenatal vitamins and subsequently started on the Naval Hospital issued ones.

The mere smell of these pills turns me green so I was less than eager to start the bottle. I should have gone with my first instinct, because, let's just say they disagree with me. A lot. I only actually threw up Monday and Friday (because apparently there wasn't enough food in my stomach) but each time was so bad I still look like I have overly bloodshot eyes because I burst blood vessels in them while literally hurling my guts out. When I wasn't puking, I was either really thinking about it or enjoying those really excellent hiccuppy-vomit flavored burbs approximately every 8-10 minutes.

Blegh.

So yea, today marks 10 weeks since the start of my last menstrual cycle. This also means that tomorrow I FINALLY get to go in for an actual Doctor's appointment and hopefully ultrasound. I only pray that everything is found to be ok so far.




In other news:

This has been an awful day for the military in San Diego. None of it directly affects me, but its the sort of stuff that just affects you anyway.

It all started (for us anyway) when the ship called Matt Sunday afternoon. I knew it was a bad call because it was the XO (second in command) who would only ever be on the ship on a weekend if something major had gone down.

Apparently, a young sailor who'd been on the ship for maybe 6 months or so decided to hang himself yesterday. When the guys found him they performed CPR and for awhile, recovered a pulse, but he officially died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. The boy was working on the mess decks serving food (as many newly arrived sailors do) and therefore Matt was near the top of his chain of command. So far no one has found any answers as to why he did it. Matt meanwhile is left trying to console his guys (especially those who tried to revive him and who worked beside
him everyday.)

It's just so, confusing. And horrible.

For some extra fun, I'm sure that anyone who's looked at a television screen today has heard that a Marine Corps plane crashed today in the part of La Jolla known as University City. The pilot ejected and is going to be ok, but several houses were destroyed and at least 3 people are confirmed to have been killed on the ground. A mother and her 2 kids.

How can anyone even wrap there mind around this information?

I'm reeling from the tragedy aboard Matt's ship and then another tragedy happens. And this one is so, seemingly, random! My heart aches for the lives lost, for the families who lost them and for the pilot who could in no real way be held personally responsible for his malfunctioning aircraft but that will no doubt blame himself regardless. Because well, how could he not? Witnesses who helped him get in touch with his command after he ejected mentioned on the news interviews that this concern for the safety of the people in the area was basically all the pilot spoke of.

What an awful day.

I mean, in the grand scheme of, well, EVERYTHING, I guess not really.

But, for a small group of others, on a very personal level, it must really, really suck. In the absolute worst kind of way.



I know that God has a plan. I know that I must trust in Him and that all things happen for a reason. I know it is not my place to question. Some days are just harder than others.

Home Sweet Home!

Sure, it probably would have been great to spend our Thanksgiving Saturday with our friends and family up in Seattle, but I opted to fly home today instead so as to avoid the chaos of Sunday-after-Thanksgiving airports. Also, I might add, the completely lazy person in me is really looking forward to having all day Sunday to do, well, nothing. :) (Certainly will beat the chaos of travelling.)

Not that the trip to Seattle from San Diego is really any trouble. I paid a little more to get flight times around noon (to avoid the peak airport hours) and also to get direct flights. Awwww, direct flights! Pure Awesomeness!!! No stressing out about making connections. No lost luggage.

I honestly can't remember the last time there were direct flights. (Ok, well, I guess many of the trips from Japan were direct, to Thailand, to Singapore, to Saipan and also to Australia) BUT the airport was a 3 hour drive away so that pretty much negated any of the ease of the direct flight. The two an a half hour flight was, um, so reasonable that I really might consider going there again soon.

Well, except for the weather. Man have I ever been spoiled in Southern California. I guess it apparently POURED here while I was gone, but I'd never know. When we flew out on Tuesday there was sun and we landed to more sun this afternoon. Nice. Meanwhile in Seattle I think there might have been an hour or two of sunshine sometime on Thursday. Ick.

Anyway, I'm happy to be home. The doggie is still crazy and the cats are still furry and fat. Matt is back to lounging around in his shorts and I am back in my comfy pajama pants wasting time in from of the tv while surfing the Internet. All is right in my world.  :)

Happy Thanksgiving!

Greetings from the Pacific Northwest.

Brrrrr.

We're in Seattle visiting Matt's oldest brother and family as well as Matt's best friend and family.

For my part, I just feel sick and grumpy all the time and have been taking a lot of naps. And I miss my dog. And my cats.

And for that matter, I also miss the weather in San Diego because its cold and rainy here. Not a big surprise but like I said:  BRRRR!

Anyway, this year for Thanksgiving I am thankful for Good Friends and Family to visit, my puppy and kitties (of course) and the fact that we are still fortunate enough to live some place warmer than Seattle. I am also thankful that Matt is home from deployment and can spend the holidays with me (as well as our 6th anniversary yesterday) and of course for the baby that we have been blessed to create (even if it makes me feel like dying most of the time.)

BEAT M*CH*G*N!!!!!

It's that day that Midwestern college football fans eagerly await the whole entire season.

The big game.

THE big game.

(Even when one of the teams is particularly lousy this year, any one who knows anything about college football knows this will be a good game.

The GREATEST rivalry in College Football.

My heart literally aches to be there right now.

Anyway, in honor of the big game here is an old photo from this same rivalry match up 10 years ago, one of the few times we actually beat m*ch*g*n back in the years of Coach Cooper, and of course back when I was fortunate enough to be able to enjoy the game from some of the worst seats in the horse shoe while freezing my bum off in the sexiest of black wool uniforms.



"Grr."

Man do I look stressed out.

Probably 'cause I was.

GO BUCKS!

Badness

Yesterday was one of those days that makes you want to quit your job, give away your pets, sell your house and move away to, I don't know, a cave someplace far away from civilization where you can hide out and be left alone.

Even though I knew I was being horribly immature I was freaking out about Matt's ship getting underway again. Yes, the post deployment stand down faze is over and there apparently is work to be done so the crew was going to get the ship underway and take it out into the glorious pacific ocean once again.

For one night.

See why I am an idiot to let this bug me? Especially since Matt has duty at least once a week and doesn't get to come home anyway. oh, except that they were underway LAST night and now he has duty TONIGHT.

Which means I have to survive two whole nights without him. again.

:(

(This is me having a stupid pity party for myself.)

so anyway...
yesterday when Matt left I was all kinds of grumpy. the situation did not improve a short time later when I woke up and discovered that the dog had recently devoured my rainbow flip flops. my FAVORITE rainbow flip flops. (In case any of you are keeping score he has now eaten 2 pairs of old navy flip flops, 2 pairs of reef flip flops and this pair of rainbows. And, yes I know that is a lot of flip flops for a person to even own let alone get have destroyed by their dog, but believe me we're not even scratching the surface there so don't judge me.)

i tried to shrug off the flip flops and went about my day. i wore a cute dress (A-line mind you since my already swelling tummy doesn't fit in most of my clothes) to cheer myself up and help deal with the crazy-hot-for-November-even-in-southern-California 80 degree weather.

it was after work that things started to go downhill.

immediately upon returning home my adorable little fetus decided to suck all the life out of me and I fell asleep on the couch. not long into this nap a cat woke me up so i moved to my bed and proceeded to sleep from 4 until 6 o'clock. great right?

well no, because as it happened I'd had an early lunch and then slept through my after school snack time. since the latest development in this still very early pregnancy is constantly plummeting blood sugar levels and a resulting need to eat ever 2 hours, missing my snack had left me feeling like I just might die.

serious headache. chills with the sweats. severe cramps. ugh.

i forced myself out of bed and made some power food, spaghetti, which helped me to feel a little better. however, it was around this time that i heard the small beeping sound coming from Matt's computer.

The small beeping sound, which was coming from Matt's BRAND NEW, only arrived on MONDAY, custom built top of the line gamer's dream computer that he has been begging for since probably 2005.

More specifically I eventually determined the beeping was coming from the power converter box thingy on the power chord. which then led me to notice the tiny little teeth marks (probably belonging to a cat) on the power chord. which then led me to notice that the power chord was no longer supplying any actual power to Matt's new dream computer.

FUCK.

(Forgive me for that, but this is one of those times when that word is very very appropriate.)

Naturally, the logical part of me realized its probably just a short and eventually moved the chord around so that it started working again. The logical part of me also realizes that while costly, the power chord can be replaced rather easily. However, the pregnant hormonal wife side of me did what only came natural:

I started to cry.

So then I emailed Matt to let him know what was going on, hoping to hear some forgiving words that might make me feel better. However, immediately after that I caught the Fat Cat sniffing around Matt's computer again.

There is a small chance I over reacted

and

I screamed at the top of my lungs at the cat to "GET OUT OF HERE!"

KC (the fat cat) reacted as any logical, non hormonal pregnant person would have expected by jumping out of his own furry little skin and sending nearly everything on top of the coffee table flying.

Including this certain ceramic pumpkin Halloween/Thanksgiving decoration/center piece that I absolutely love. And was absolutely not cheap.

And which is absolutely now broken.

At that point, I called the day over. I went to bed and cried myself to sleep.




All this has led me to reach a few conclusions:
1. There is a reason it takes TWO people to get pregnant and therefore just because the woman has to do all the hard bits does not mean that she can do it without the man.

2. and therefore, single mothers are absolutely amazing. Also Military wives who are preggo while their hubby is deployed.
(or possibly, just FAR less co dependant that I apparently am.)

also

3. A pregnant girl, no matter what her age, really ought to have a mother who she is close with that she can call during this insane process and seek answers.

darn it.

Another weeks worth of rambling

So, I would try to explain why its been another week since I've updated, but apparently anyone who's ever been pregnant will understand. (Or at least that's what people have been telling me.) Because the thing is, I seriously can't stay awake past 8:00 at night.

or, even 6:30 some nights.

The couch is just so comfy!!
and,
I'm off caffeine. (Ugh!)
and,
I think I've developed prenatal Narcolepsy.
:)

Is that a real thing?

Probably not, but "they" weren't kidding when "they" said the first trimester can leave you feeling exhausted.

What? Like its hard work growing a person? Seriously? At this point the baby is supposed be somewhere between the size of a B.B. and a chickpea. How come then its sucking the energy right out of me?

This could be why Dr. House once told a pregnant patient she had a parasite?

It should also be noted that a "parasite" is also what my loving husband proudly told his mother I had. Nice.

Anyway...

Other than the sleepy, I feel mostly fine. I can't say that I've had any definite morning sickness yet although there have been a few bouts of downright nausea. ugh. When these nauseous moments happen to occur in the morning, I guess someone might call it morning sickness, but I am SO totally not a morning person anyway, that when you add in the new preggo exhaustion level to my normal, grouchy morning behavior its difficult to tell how much of my morning issues are nausea or just, well, grumpiness.

Let's just all pray together that this kid comes out healthy and full term, etc, etc, and then ALSO that he or she gets MY sleep cycle. NOT Matt's. Seriously. He gets up between 6 and 7 on weekends and that is simply not going to fly. Dear sweet little baby, please naturally learn to sleep until at least 8. or, preferably 9.
Come to think of it, nausea hasn't really been the problem at all. It's the cramping. To begin with I have 3 close friends who had ectopic pregnancies, so every pain makes me fear that this pregnancy will end up the same way. Then of course I get all freaked out and worried and that just makes the cramping worse. Thankfully, I think after two weeks of on again off again tummy agony I've figured the cramps out. First of all, I'm sure some of them are normal, first trimester cramps. Plus it occurred to me that some of the cramps were directly related to my bladder and how in these past few week it always seems to be in desperate need of being emptied.

Then, there is the change in my diet. When I first found out I was preggo I quit coffee and caffeine (great for baby, BAD for my digestive system.) Matt also started packing me these gorgeous salads and some assorted fruits to eat for lunch. Which was great. But, um, not exactly high in fiber. Amazingly, once I figured this out, and, um, added a healthy dose of fiber to my diet, I've been feeling much better.

Sweet.

6 weeks down. 34 to go.

(And this sort of stupidity if definitely the reason why women are supposed to be able to call their Mom's when they're expecting. Constipated? Who knew.)

My Absence

I feel that I really need to apologize for being such a lazy blogger. At first I was just busy. Matt went back to work and he had duty a lot and the dog always needed a walk and the house was dirty and... well, you know how it goes.

Then of course once you get out of the habit of regular blogging it gets much harder to get back to it.

Plus, then, well, some big stuff started to happen and I've been unsure how to blog about it.

You see, back in March when Matt left on deployment I took myself off of birth control. We've been
ready-ish to start a family maybe for awhile but the deployment was hanging over our heads and we both decided that it would be better if we waited to make any formal efforts at becoming parents until it was behind us.

So then he came home on Oct 8.

And, my monthly "annoyance" was supposed to come somewhere around Oct 23.

Except it didn't.

At first I refused to get my hopes up. I was a little late the prior month, so I needed to give it time. Yea. Because, you all know how Patience is my middle name.

By the 25th I decided to just take a home test to chill myself out.

Nada.

Okay, well, no harm no foul. He hadn't even been home a month.

Except still no annoyance.

I took another on the 27th. Still, Nada. I think. It was kind of blurry and hard to read actually.

So of course when I still didn't get a period, I took another one the following day.

It was a digital one and very much easier to read. It said quite clearly "pregnant."

I refused to get my hopes up. I have definitely had positive pregnancy tests before and I definitely do NOT have any children yet.

After school I took 3 more. All positive.



I went to the doctor on the 31st (Happy Halloween) and they confirmed that I definitely am pregnant!!!!! Due in early July (right around my birthday.) Also right around the time Matt is supposed to be reporting for duty up in Monterrey, which should be interesting.

So far I am excited and feeling okay. Pretty tired, peeing a lot and with only a few random bouts of nausea/heartburn. Matt says he is scared since it is a very big thing creating a whole new person. I agree with the scared part, but only because I want this baby so, so, so much that I am terrified something bad is going to happen.

God has given me every blessing I prayed for. I have my house and my pets and a good job and Matt is home safe and now he is ALSO going to give me a child!?!?! It's almost too much to believe. Too good to be true. I feel, almost, afraid to be happy. I hope that doesn't sound dumb or ungrateful. And I also realize it is way to early probably to be talking about this pregnancy "publicly," but I am just so excited and absolutely unable to keep it a secret. :)

Sleep talking

This morning the dog or cats woke me up around 6. I was pretty annoyed because it's supposed to be a day to sleep in a little, and I was hoping if anybody had to be woken they would have opted for my natural early rising hubby.

Once I was awake I was having a pretty tough time getting back to sleep so I tried talking to Matt. Much to my surprise he really was still asleep. Not that being asleep will stop him from having a conversation with me. It happens all the time and I'm never really sure whether he is awake or not until later when I find out if he remembers the conversation. Sometimes I'm pretty sure he isn't necessarily talking to me, because he's called me "Captain" before and also mentioned something about "Stupid drivers..." Keeps life interesting.

On a completely separate tangent, I had a friend through high school and college who talked in her sleep a lot. You could always tell just how tired she was based on how clear she talked. When she mumbled she was well rested, but when she made sense it meant she was really exhausted. It always made marching band overnight trips amusing.

Anyway, getting back to my point I noticed that Matt was actually, strangely, under all the covers. (His average body temperature is roughly 140 degrees so he is almost NEVER under all the covers.) I snuggled in next to him and asked him what on earth he was doing under the covers.

His answer...

"Sleeping."

Even in his sleep he finds a way to be strangely literal and make me laugh.

Imaginary Pets

Yesterday, after Matt read my blog about him always "dream cheating" on me we got to talking about HIS dreams. It was a short conversation because he all but never remembers his dreams.

I can recall three times in the nearly 11 years we've been together that he has told me about remembering a dream.

The first time was in college and whatever the story was that he related to me, it made so little sense that it suddenly seemed very clear to me why he never remembers them.

The third time (yes, I know I'm going out of order, but deal with it,) was this past August. Matt emailed me from the Persian gulf to let me know he'd dreamed about being a vigilantly and shooting people all night.

I told him to stop playing so many video games and consider getting out of the heat.

However, the second dream he told me about trumps all. One morning in Japan we were driving to base for work. Just as we passed a pet shop Matt turned to me and said something like this,

"Last night I dreamed we were in Hong Kong and we were going to buy a Wog."

When I looked at him like he was crazy he went on to explain, "it was half wolf, half dog."

Seriously.

So anyway, this morning we were discussing my dreams and his dreams and we got to talking about that Wog and Matt said, "It's too bad, instead of a Wog we just got a Fog."

Again I looked at him confused but Matt happily jumped in to explain that, clearly, Brutus is half Fox and half Dog.

It's true. Some place, I can't remember where (but it ceeeeertainly wasn't on every single walk I've ever taken him on) I've been told, that he looks just like a fox.

Go figure.

As if I hadn't noticed.

The inner-workings of my mind are messed up again.

I think I have a new recurring dream. It isn't reeeally recurring, because its pretty different each time, but it always ends exactly thesame way.

But its new, of course, because I have lots of recurring dreams that I've been having for years.

When I was young I remember having dreams about being very flexible. I mean, physically. Like I could do the splits and stuff. It sounds so stupid, but I'm sure these dreams were a direct result of spending years in dance and gymnastics lessons as a child and struggling due to being naturally inflexible.

In recent years I often have dreams that my veneers fall or break off. I take these to be linked to my actual fear that they will break or fall off and I will have to live with an awful smile all over again.

But, more than any other there have are the dreams about Matt. Before you start to smile at how sweet that is, STOP. While sure, I have had my share of nice dreams about my husband being sweet and lovely... most of the time, in my dreams he cheats on me.

That right bastard.

"Dream Matt," I mean, because actual Matt is very sweet.

Side note: To the best of my knowledge, an old episode of friends coined the term " dream cheating" when Phoebe and Rachel were discussing how Phoebe had been having romantic dreams about Monica and Ross's father until eventually in the dream he cheated on her.

So like I said, Matt "dream cheats" on me all the time.

"Dream Matt" sucks.

The ones that still stick in my mind were when he "dream cheated" on me with my friend's sister and the time it was with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. (Yes, that's right, the character, not the actress.) At any rate, in all of these dreams I have the distinct pleasure of walking in and finding him with whoever the latest "dream mistress" might be in the, er, act. Nice.

For years I worried that there was something deeply wrong with me. My heart trusts Matt, but CLEARLY by subconscious does not. Or something, because I am definitely not a shrink. However, one late night at Sea World last year I mentioned something about this and my friend/coworker Jon said his girlfriend had a similar problem. Apparently "Dream Jon" sucks too and he was always doing something awful and upsetting Jon's girlfriend.

Once I heard that I wasn't the only one with the problem the dreams stopped bugging me. Maybe I even stopped having them, or maybe I just stopped remembering them...

until recently.

Now they're back, but with a twist.

So, you know, things are good now. Matt is home from deployment after 7 long months and everything is all love and roses so to speak. We're definitely having a "honeymoon stage" all over again. It's great!

Until I go to sleep.

Then I have my latest and greatest dream...

In any one of several scenarios, "Dream Matt" and I are out about town when he sees this stupid looking skinny blond girl at which point "Dream Matt"gets all quiet and upset before eventually confessing to me that somewhere on deployment he met that stupid looking skinny blond girl on a port visit someplace, got drunk and made out with her.

Now, Matt assures me no such thing happened.

So why can't I stop dreaming about it?

Stupid subconscious.

Shamu's Spooktacular Halloween

Today Matt and I went to Sea World, because he hasn't been there nearly as many times as I have and they have their Halloween stuff going on during the weekends right now. Obviously we didn't dress up and Trick or Treat around the park (although that was an option,) but we happily stuffed ourselves on funnel cakes while visiting the animals and catching the best shows. Here we are waiting for the Halloween version of the Clyde and Seymore show to start.



As usual, this show was hilarious. They abandoned their regular Navy-spoof show in favor or making fun of Halloween stuff. First, there was some trick or treating which resulted in a witch chasing away the candy grabbers.


Then they spoofed several  shows, including Psycho, Baywatch, Star Wars...



and of course, SCOOBY DOO!



Finally, they did Michal Jackson's "Thriller."



After that, we went to the Shamu show, because...

...you know...

...Anything is possible if you "Believe!"



Man I love that whale. Shamu is the best.

Seaport Village

Shortly after Matt got home on Wednesday I asked him what he wanted to do next. As far as Thursday was concerned he wanted only one thing, and that was to do nothing.

However, by Friday he was ready to get out and enjoy America's finest city a bit so we took the dog down to Seaport Village for some lunch and a nice walk along the water front. We got a couple slices of pizza and Brutus sat and begged for his share between bouts of chasing pigeons. Then we set off exploring.

The first step was to walk out the pier. The last time I was there was on St. Patrick's Day and I stood there and watched Matt's ship leave. This time I stood with my husband, happy to have him home and giggled at the puppy as he fearfully explored.

He we are. (Matt hates having his picture taken... but does enjoy making stupid faces for the camera, so this is the best I could get.)


We walked along the water from Seaport Village up past the Midway museum all the way to the Star of India and back.


On the way back it was interesting to see a fishing boat unloading its catch. Not that I didn't know that this went on here, it just isn't a major industry like many other coastal towns to it was cool to see.



While I watched the fisherman, the boys had a break so the doggie could get some water.



Then of course we needed some ice cream. (Brutus was happy to sit at my feet and lick up the chocolate drips.)


But, after the long afternoon in the sun, he was properly worn out. Once we were back in the car he laid down in the back seat, curled up and passed out.

He's Back!!!

At last!

After nearly 7 LONG months, here's our first glance as they come around the corner!


Making the last turn!

I'll skip the pictures from the 45 minutes it took to get them from that point, to pier side with the lines tied up and the brow attached. Then they did the first kisses, new dads and all of that.

Finally, the guys came swarming off. After a few moments I was happy to see him!


What a stud! :)


Ok, so then there was good 10 minute hug, despite the 90 degree heat and the scorching mid morning sun. Once I had him in my arms again I sort of forgot to take pictures anymore.
In the end, we visited for a bit with all the families before heading back to the ship to get his belongings and finally head home.

Once we got back to Poway, there was another happy reunion...

Brutus was even dressed up for the occasion.

On the other hand:


The cats were just happy he brought home bags for them to play in.

What a good day. (Too bad I was so excited I never managed to get a picture of us together.)

Lost... my... mind

"Good afternoon boys and girls, we're going to start today's music lesson in the usual way. Clear off your desks and get ready to listen to our song while I pass out the papers. Now...

um...

hang on...

what song is it supposed to be? Hmmm...

what grade is this again?

ok, right, I got it now. Have a listen."

And did I mention that I can't concentrate on anything because my husband is coming soon?

oh, right, I did. But its reeking havoc on my ability to hold coherent thoughts in my brain.

"I pledge allegiance, to the Navy...

of the of the United Navy of the Navy. And to the Navy, for which the Navy Stands, One Navy, Under the Navy...."

You get the point.

So I was sitting in church this morning listening to the Pastor go on about the allowing the Lord be the leading force in your life, and trusting that the words of the Bible are the key to everything and that as Christians we must have Allegiance to God above all else.

To trust in the Lord and allow his plan to run my life.

Um....

Well, that sounds all well and good, but most of the time it feels like the only almighty force that has any ruling power over my life is my husband's career.

I'm just saying.

It's hard.

Meanwhile, I found out again today that awhile ago I said something that upset somebody. It must have been unintentional because I don't even know this person and have only spoken to them a few times in passing. But I feel very frustrated.

If somebody upsets you with what they say, why not tell them so they can apologize and try to explain or make it right? Why do people let it sit and fester and then go telling people how awful they think you are? I don't like the idea that there are people going around hating on me, because I have a very bad habit of speaking without thinking, or speaking without properly explaining my point. How am I supposed to make it right without even knowing I did anything?

I know what you're all thinking: why doesn't she just stop saying stupid stuff and making people mad.

I am a work in progress. That's all I can say. I'm trying but maybe God made me the way I am for a reason....

(maybe)

Why does time only fly when you're having fun?

I apologize for my lapse in regular blogging. Nothing of any interest has been happening despite the fact that I've been insanely busy. Oh, wait, we had a heat wave. Exciting huh?

And, while keeping busy is a very good thing, I'll admit that I have just generally been irritated by pretty much everything. Work. School. Friends. The Gym. The Dog. The cats. The Navy. Television. Grrrrr! All of it is getting on my nerves.

Why? Well, obviously because we are done to just DAYS until Matt comes home.

And if whatever I am doing is not directly related to preparation for having a husband again, then I find it all annoying.

I spent the day getting my hair done, my nails done, and my waxing done so that now I am all shiny and buffed and ready to be a wife again.

But, still, I wait.

Driving

Each day I commute, I'm sorry to say, about 25 miles each way to and from work.
In California.
I am so very lucky.

(Actually, I am lucky... to have a job, that is, since so many teachers were laid off this year.)

Anyway, since I spend so much time on the road I have a few things I need to say to my fellow drivers:

1. When attempting to merge onto the freeway, it would be helpful if people tried to accelerate to the speed limit, rather than attempting to move into traffic a good 20 mph below the posted speed limit.

2. When preparing to exit the freeway, it would be equally helpful if people would wait to slow down until they are actually ON the off ramp. Slowing to 35 mph, even in the slow lane, prior to exiting, is really a BAD idea. And very annoying. Because there is a very good chance that some nice person has moved into the slow lane to prepare to exit in about a mile and they would really like to get to their own exit sometime in this lifetime.

3. If you are not going to go any faster than the posted speed limit, you REALLY need to stay in the slow lane. Really. Since the average speed on San Diego freeways in the fast lane is anywhere between 70 and 90, attempting to go only 65 in either of the fastest 2 lanes is a bad plan. And also, very, very irritating.

4. Finally, while I realize our freeways are often quite crowded, please at least TRY to maintain a minimum safe stopping distance. I don't care if you think going 10-15 mph OVER the posted speed limit isn't fast enough, please DO NOT ride my, er, rear bumper. I happen to like my car and would really appreciate it if you didn't slam into it the next time traffic slows. You can either go around me or wait patiently for me to get over, which I promise I will do as soon as the chance presents itself.

That is all, and thank you.

Must go faster, must go faster!

Get it? It's a Jurassic Park reference. Fine classic American cinema that one!

(Not that this has ANYTHING to do with, well, anything.)

So yesterday after work I pretty much hit the couch and feel asleep. At some I got up and put away the plate from the snack I was eating. I also dumped the soda I didn't drink. I also must have let the dog back in, before moving the party to my bed and promptly passing back out. I know I did this because the doggie had eaten quite a lot of grass in the back yard at some point and it starting coming back to make my evening spectacular. Everywhere. I doubt if he could have helped himself if he'd tried, because, um, without being graphic... that was one sick puppy.

The smell of the sick puppy is actually what finally roused me around 8:30. I got up, saw the mess, put the puppy out and then pretty much did a walking tour of my housing cleaning up the nastiness. Poor Sick Brutus. Poor me.

Anyway, after that I looked at the time and decided to give up on the day again. I let the dog in and went back to bed.

So today I was definitely feeling well rested. Yeeeeeeeah! School was good and after work I dragged my bottom to the gym lest we have another repeat of yesterday. My friend Nikki was there too, inspiring me, unintentionally, to work harder. I ran for 40 minutes! I made it just over 3 miles. Maybe that isn't much to some of you (my husband who, for example, runs about 5 miles as his warm up) that might not seem like a big deal, but I am very proud of myself for running that whole time and NOT stopping to walk even once. However, unless I want to be on a tread mill alllllll day, I'm going to have to start running a lot faster if I want to make it to 4 or 5 miles. Right now I set the speedometer thing to 4.6. I wonder how long its going to take me to get to more like 6.4....

Afterward I stretched and then joined Nikki at the strength machines. She's slowly but surely showing me how to use them. So we did these assisted pull up things, and also these drop down pull up things. Ouch. Then we tried to do some abs. Except my leg muscles were spasming a little from the run and I couldn't do very many.

So then I came home and walked the dog.

When I got home Nikki yelled across the street at me that dinner was ready and she had extra if I was hungry.

Of course I was hungry!!! Score.

Now that I am home, and fed, and happy, I'm off to the shower.

Glen Ivy Spa Day

I'm not sure if I mentioned it, but after the disaster that was everything football last weekend, I quit. No more for me!!

(Yea right.)

But ok, the Buckeyes got killed and the Chargers got ROBBED.

I needed a break.

So when my friend Maria emailed on Monday about taking a trip up towards the dessert for a day at the spa I was happy to agree.

We drove up this morning and each started our day with a 20 minute massage. Then we all got set to properly float around in the pool and soak up the sun for a good long while. (I for one, know for a fact that tan fat always looks less disgusting than pale fat... so I need to bronze up in the few last weeks before I see my husband again.) However, before long we were all getting hot.

So we decided to go check out some of the spa's amenities. We started with one of the main attractions: the mud bath.

Although, it's not so much a mud bath, but more of a bath with mud. Hot water in a pool with a big slab of mud in the middle to slather yourself up with. Maria decided Christina and I weren't getting dirty fast enough so she decided to start the fun for us. (I particularly enjoy the fact that my tongue is sticking out of my mouth in this photo. That's always a good look.)

So below, there we are once we were good and coated. (If only that was a nice deep tan rather tan just the color of the mud.)

We laid out for awhile and our mud mostly dried. Well, Christina's and my mud dried. Maria, had put hers on about an inch thick so she never seemed like she was going to dry.

But, luckily they provide a nice sauna were you can go and do your best impression of a nice clay pot baking in a kiln. I found the hand prints and cave art left on the glass by an earlier visitor to be a little entertaining. Proof positive that a great deal of heat will do funny things to a person's brain sometimes.



After the mud FINALLY dried, we sat and rubbed it all off. Once that was good, we made each of our husbands dreams come true (I'm sure) and showered to rinse all the leftover filth off of each other. It was quite funny because since two of us haven't seen our boys in quite some time, we were giggling like teenagers at what they might say if they could see us now, covered in orange goop and bubbles trying to help each other get cleaned off in time to go and beat the lunch rush.

Anyway, eventually we were presentable so we all ran off to change into clean (non-orange stained) bathing suits and grab some lunch. The rest of the afternoon we spent lounging by the pool trying very hard to get a nice tan without raising our chances too terribly of one day having wrinkles or skin cancer.
By the look of this, I didn't burn. I just managed to turn a nice pale, pink. Hopefully this will transform into a soft bronze in a day or too. :)



What a good day!

Weird Visitor

Um, so just now I went into the kitchen to get a snack and upon grabbing a plate from the drying rack in the sink I noticed something stuck to it. "Well gee," I thought, "That's weird, I must have missed that when I washed the dishes..."

But then I ran the dish under water and the something didn't come unstuck. So I looked closer. I soon realized that there was a good reason that it was still there.. This was no left over stuck on food. This was a snail. A teeny tiny, itsy bitsy, weenie little snail. Hmmmm...

I think the best question to ponder on here would be how the heck a teeny tiny itsy bitsy snail got INSIDE my kitchen and then stuck itself to a dish in the drying rack? While there do tend to be awful lot of snails in the back yard, I've never imagined they could get in the house. Plus, this one is SO small that it must have taken it a very, very, very long time to get anywhere, let alone all the way into my house and then into the sink.

Not unexpectedly I attracted the attention of the cats. Here is KC trying very hard to eat my little snail friend.



Despite my love of all things small and cute and animaly, I decided to resist the urge to keep it and call him Gary and teach him to "Meow" (if you're wondering what I'm talking about watch an episode of Sponge Bob some time) because we have more than enough animals around here already and I don't really know what you'd feed a snail... So my little friend got unstuck and washed down the drain and I went on about my snack finding.

Complaining

I feel like all I ever do in this blog is complain. That and talk about my crazy dog.

But, the way I see it, there is probably a reason why I was voted "Biggest Complainer" of the marching band in 9th grade.

(That's still better than biggest whiner, so I'll take it. Or, I guess rather I took it... 15 years ago, when the honor was bestowed upon my 14 year old self.)

Anyway, I feel like when things are sucking you have two options:

Suck it up and just deal, keeping all your frusterations inside
and probably leading to high blood pressure and an eventual coronary

or

Suck it up and just deal with whatever it is
by venting about the absurd stupidity of the situation

It's a matter of being passive or not. I have never been passive.

Like for example, in 9th grade when I earned that fine title, I attended high school in Boca Raton Florida. There we frequently had marching band practices in the 90+ degree heat in August and the practice field was littered with Fire Ant piles that if you marched through would get you attacked by hundreds of little demon ants that bit you and left little itchy painful pussy bumps all over your ankles.

It sucked. Actually, so did our Marching Band.
Clearly the best solution in that situation was to bitch about it.

Anyway, so today was going well. I was living a nearly complaint free existence. My legs and feet were hurting from the gym, but I felt invigorated from the run so it was worth it. However, when I came home I received an email from my husband. (He had called yesterday to let me know that the ship has pulled into Palau for a week of R and R before continuing their journey homeward.)

First of all:  A WEEK???

Um, why not just COME HOME a week earlier. Because it isn't like we live in San Diego! You know? One of the top tourist destinations within the continental United States. They can R and R here!!!

So anyway, Matt's email today was to tell me that his phone card is out of minutes and apparently he was so busy enjoying the island or whatever that he could not find the time to squeeze in a stop at the quickie-mart to get another one. So he won't be calling me. But, he is going Scuba Diving today.

So what would I possibly have to be unhappy about? Because he hasn't been gone for over 6 months and underway steady for the last 2 months and the last time I heard his voice prior to yesterday wasn't over a month ago!

Why on EARTH would I want to talk to him?!?!?!?

Why on Earth would I expect him to take care of business so that he could call me?!?!?!

Why on Earth would I think HE WOULD WANT TO TALK TO ME!!?!?!????

Yea, yea I get it. He's been busy for the last however many days, he deserves some time to have fun. Fine. I hope he has a great dive and I am in no way jealous that I do not get to go with him.

I do however think his inability to get another phone card is total B.S.

Embarrassing Photos

An ooooold friend from high school recently added me on Facebook which is always nice, because she's good people (despite the fact she made the unfortunate decision to attend The University of M*ch*g*n.) So then today she brightened my day by putting up some old photos from high school. I copied them and now I am posting the two best of them for all of your viewing enjoyment and amusement.

This first one is of course of the good old Dublin Coffman Marching Band marching in the St. Patrick's Day parade in 1996. Julie played piccolo, so I'm sure her parents were aiming to capture their daughter in the first row behind the flags but accidentally also caught me in all of my Flag Corps smilerificness. Aw those were the days!


The second photo was taken during the photo tour of our Junior Prom in 1995, you know, because we went to like 5 different houses. Each of us were bound and determined to go and pulled "dates," seemingly out of no where about a week ahead of time. That was one of the advantages of going to such a large high school: by the end of my Junior year there were still loads of people in my class I'd never met. (Also, I think by the time the night was over all of wished we'd just gone stag, but that's beside the point.) Anyway, from left to right there's Julie, Me, Marci and Amy. Four girls I love and miss so much sometimes. We really need to get Marci and Amy onto Facebook!!!


Not to be vain, but I really like my dress. My mother and I made it (along with my Senior Prom dress the following year) as last ditch attempts towards mother-daughter bonding. Dysfunctional relationship or not, it is nice to have a few good memories. I still can proudly say I can squeeze my hips into that dress, but unfortunately its not really very attractive to wear prom dress paint.

It's also worth mentioning that the following year's Senior Prom went very different. Julie and Amy found dates they were actually quite fond of. I'm fairly certain Julie eventually  married hers. I don't remember what became of Marci's date situation but I ended up going stag with an enormous group of people. On purpose. (As in, somebody did ask me and I turned him down.) Going to prom with a boy just to have a date is a bad idea.

Pancakes!

Immediately after church this morning I wanted pancakes. I blame Matt for this, even though he's still far, far away.

You see, my husband is a tiny bit of an enabler. (I'm not complaining, but he is.) He spoils me rotten whenever possible. (I'm still not complaining.) So, if for example I wake up in the morning and say "I want pancakes!" it is very, very likely that he will go about getting me some. :) If you ignore the whole part about how he's been gone for 6 months, I'm a very lucky girl.

I remember the first time this became clear to me. We were college and I'd had a bad day. I don't remember why but my solution was to come home and immediately get in bed and hide under the covers. Matt was trying to figure out what to do. At some pointed he asked me if there was anything besides hiding under the covers that I felt like doing. I said something about how shopping always helps, but I didn't have any money.

What do you think he did next?

That's right, he found a credit card and drove me to the mall. He followed me from store to store (a task which he largely regards as punishment under normal circumstances) while I searched for that special outfit that would make my day. And when I found something (at Banana Republic no less, a store where at the time I loved looking in but never could afford to actually buy anything) he got me whatever it was.

Why am I acting like I don't remember what it was? It was an olive green silk tank top thing, and a matching black pair of pants and a top. I still have them both.

Anyway, all that to say that while he may be a little tight lipped emotionally, he has always tried very hard to give me what makes me happy.

But now I am very very far away from my original topic of pancakes so let me go on. I think the reason I always want pancakes on Sundays especially after church is because when we are in Ohio with his family his mom will make us almost anything we want after church. Most of the time it is pancakes. Sometimes it is waffles. Matt has a bad habit of requesting sausage gravy and biscuits which I think is very gross, but to each his own.

So today, when we were leaving church I looked at Nikki and was like "I want pancakes!" She laughed because I'd said this exact same thing last week and said something about wanting a nice greasy cheeseburger. But we are both on an eat healthy diet so it didn't seem like either of us was going to get what we wanted.

As some point during the car ride home her girls started piping in about pancakes too. First it was her 4 year old. Soon it was the 18 month old too.

Oops. What did I start?

When we got home they went inside their house to do whatever it is they needed to do today. I went inside my own house to do homework and laundry. A few minutes ago I went outside to take a break and water the rapidly dying plants. While I was out there, Nikki came out to let me know that in the end, she'd had to make pancakes to appease her children.

I am a very bad influence. But those are some lucky children. Pancakes are yummy.

College Football week 3

Heavenly Father,

Please can you grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change (like the fact that stupid USC is absolutely beating the earwax out of my beloved Buckeyes right now, the courage to change the things I can (like the fact that I really really hate USC, even though I know that it is a bad idea to create all that negative energy by wasting my time feeling that emotion,) and the wisdom to know the difference (because that's the really hard part after all.)

Thank you and Amen


I love Ohio State Football. I really truly do. And I know that I do because when they loose it makes me want cry. And in my sadness, I have never ever hated on the team for their misfortune. I still think they are awesome and I still secretly wish I could dress my husband up in a cute little sweater vest like Jim Tressel on game days.

I can not say that I never hate on the other teams though, because I do. (That's the part I'm working on.) Because right now I HATE USC. Actually, I sort of always hate USC, because living in San Diego, I find myself to be surrounded by them all the time. I hate their stupid fans and their stupid smug attitude. I hate their stupid marching band with their stupid sunglasses and there stupid dancing girls on the sidelines. If USC is like, the all time best of the Pac 10 it is simply because they are the only team in that sad little conference that has even consistently been any good.

And if you're wondering I do not hate the SEC. The teams that play in that conference are phenomenal, as a whole and I respect that. Although it hurts really bad when they beat us at consecutive National Championships there is some awesome football going on there.

I do hate M*ch*g*n, but, that is just a given.

As far as us loosing to USC today goes... it stinks. It really does. But there is a great deal more football left to be played this year. You never ever can predict what will happen. So, I still have hope.

We'll get another shot next year in our own house. Go Bucks, then, now and always!!!!


One of my fellow bloggers has mentioned that she feels she is far too big of a football fan. In her case she's talking about the Chargers (to which I say Go Bolts!) But, I fully support her addiction, if for no other reason than it makes mine look a lot healthier. She has mentioned that maybe someone should stage and intervention, but I urge her, if she reads this, not to worry. The crazy thing I've noticed about fandom is the further you go from the home of your team, the more your entire life can tend to revolve around the fate of your team on game day.

Blegh, part 2

I wanted to have something better to talk about today; to write some charming story about my students or some meaningful memory of the events from the very first Patriot's Day.

But, as it is I'm lucky I made it to work at all and then actually survived all my classes. (I did bail out 30 minutes early from prep time.) Then I had a "date" to have dinner with Matt's oldest brother who I haven't seen since before we went to Japan and was in town on business.

So now, exactly 15 hours later I am back in bed where this day started, really settling down for the first time all day. The Funk is still there. I'm not sure if its better or worse, because I think I'm getting used to it and at any rate I'm working through it. But, what I can tell you is that eeeeeverything aches. Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes! (And back. And arms. And legs.)

So I'm ready to give up today and try again tomorrow.

Sorry I haven't got anything better to blog about.

The Funk

*ahem*

(the following is to be read in the whinniest voice possible to ensure the proper affect.)

I don't feel good!

Seriously.

It started with the fact that I couldn't sleep last night which meant I woke up this morning under-rested. And of course my legs were sore from the gym. Then a stress headache started. It got worse and worse. Around noon I literally became unable to hold valuable information in my brain. Like the CD track number for the song we were supposed to be singing. Or the words for the song. Or any information what so ever.

I began to have the most over whelming urge to turn off all the lights and hide under a table some place.

I spent most of my lunch squinting at the wall. Not on purpose. And I didn't even realize I was doing it until somebody asked me why I was doing it. And I was squinting because the light is bothering my eyes.

After school my eyes started to water and that icky feeling appeared in my nose and throat. And the headache inched slowly from about a 4 to an 8. Sharon, my BTSA mentor told me to go home. So did another teacher. They both said "the funk" is going around. Apparently I have it.

I was really hoping it was too early in the school year to get sick.

But thankfully I'm not sick. I've just got "the funk."

Lucky me.

If you need me I'll be sleeping.

All things considered

Well, the good news is that we've officially hit the home stretch of this deployment and Matt will be home soon. Of course I am not allowed to mention the actual date of his return, because "loose lips sink ships" or something like that, but let's just say its getting close.

So how and when did I decide this was the homestretch? That's easy, things have gotten so busy and insane that I actually stopped counting down. And, then last weekend I was thinking to myself how nice it is that he's almost coming home and man, hasn't this deployment just been so easy.

Wait a minute, what?!?!

I swear that thought went through my brain. Then I thought seriously about smacking myself upside my own head for being so ridiculous. How could I have so easily forgotten all the lonely nights, and hefty things I had to carry, and mowing the lawn, and the flat tire, and the dog eating the carpet, and the pet poo and pee everywhere all the time???

I must be repressing it.

Anyway, it's allllmost over now. The end is in sight.

Meanwhile, the school year is back in full force. The kids have mostly been great, as have most of the teachers. I even got an actual compliment from my problem principal yesterday. (And in case you're wondering, she's my problem principal because she clearly has a problem with me, not the other way around.) Additionally I'm back working through the second year of the infinite hell that is known as the BTSA and Induction program. This means I'm much closer to finally clearing my California Credential. In about 5 months after I finish about 5 special projects and the completion of the second half of my portfolio. Plus, I still have about 2 weeks of my CLAD classes online.

So yea, I'm lucky to remember my name sometimes.

In other news, since Matt is nearly coming home, I figured I'd better get to working on some of my other deployment goals.

Like going to church. I FINALLY dragged my lazy behind out of bed Sunday and went to Church. Yea! (And it is amazing how much better I feel about everything this week. God rules!) I really want to try for children once I have a potential Dad around to make me a Mom, so I think it is really time I bring my faith up front and get it off the back burner. It's so ironic to me that our crazy hectic lives keep us from going to church, when really that is the best place for us when things are nutso.

Also, I FINALLY FINALLY joined the gym, which is completely ridiculous because the LA Fitness is literally at the end of my street. Seriously. I can walk there in less than 5 minutes. It's stupid that it too me so long to finally join. But happily, yesterday I swam laps for about 30 minutes and today I ellipticalled for 20 minutes and then biked for 30 minutes. (I hate having to start slow and build up to real cardio, but I'm soooo out of practice.... it hurts.)

And, after the gym, I even took the doggie for a walk. A long one because I tried to discover the back way through the neighborhood from the park. It took about an hour, but man was it a nice afternoon exploring with my furry boy.

So, I guess things are looking up around here. :)

College Football Saturday

Go Ohio! Beat the Bobcats!!

(I mean, like, obviously.)

Personally of the all-Ohio College football games this is my favorite. Both my Uncles attended OU as did my own parents originally before they got married, and my Mother-in-Law and pretty much half of Matt's family. When I was a kid my parents would take us down for Homecoming, and my mother, who considered herself to be quite the marching band expert was always going on about the Bobcat marching band. And don't get me wrong. They have a very, very good band. I considered going to OU for about 10 minutes, and I might have even ended up in the band although to be honest when I was a little kid the idea of being a cheerleader with the cute skirt and pompoms on my shoes (they really did wear those) was much more appealing. So Anyway, it drove my parents crazy when I went to OSU and then eventually became a member of that band.

But besides that, we need to get some good practice in for next week vs. USC. Because, I really really hate USC. It must be something having to do with living in southern California where everyone reveres the "Condoms" and completely deludes themselves into believing the PAC 10 is a competitive conference. Not that the Big 10 is either anymore, but that's beside the point.

Besides the fact that there all these stupid people who go to really LAME schools (lameness of course being judged purely on the quality of the school's football program) like San Diego State, who root for USC. Note to all these people: there is a rule in college football. It says you are a fan of the school you attended. The only exceptions to this rule are when you did not attend college at all or your school did not have a football program. In these cases you can root based on proximity to the school in relationship to where you grew up or where your family members/spouse attended.

So, for example if you are one of the lucky grads of the United States Naval Academy, thank you for your service to our country, but you are stuck rooting for their rather lame program. Go Goats, er I mean midshipmen. Deal with it. Wanna know how? Pro-Football. (Pick you team at will, go crazy even.) Please don't tell me that you grew up in Detroit and you are a m*ch*g*n fan. If you were such a big fan you would have gone to school in the toilet bowl known as Ann Arbor. I'm sure they have a very good ROTC program.

Anyway, its minutes to kickoff so in honor of my beloved Buckeyes.... here is another photo from my own TBDBITL days (because I finally figured out how to work my scanner and boy is it fun.) The cymbal player standing on the ledge is of course me during one of our 3rd quarter trips around the stadium for drum cheers.

Primping in the Car

Today while I was sitting at a stop light on Pomerado Road I glanced in the rear view mirror and noticed the girl behind me doing something I simply could not believe...

She was actually tweezing her eyebrows.

I can't even begin to fathom a reason anyone would do that in the car. Forget the fact that you really need a magnifying mirror and good light to do it properly, doing it irritates your skin and makes it all pink. Which means that where ever you are going you're going to arrive with an irritated, puffy, pink brow line.

Besides the fact that it HURTS!

And it makes your eyes tear up so how would you be able see to drive?

She was behind me for a few miles and at every stop light she was tweezing away again.
When the light turned green each time I'd pull away and she'd continue plucking for a moment before stopping to drive.

It was very weird.

My Teeth

I have been told for as absolutely long as I remember about a time when I was 18 months old and decided to take a flying leap out of a truck, missing my father's arms and knocking my front tooth out. While I have no memory of the actual incident, I have been dealing with consequences ever since because from that point on until I was 9 I had this ridiculously cute smile with a hole in it. (This is kindergarten, by the way.)

Eventually, the adult tooth did grow in. Unfortunately it came in completely crooked and with a large brown spot on it. The spot was a result the damaged enamel, which happened when the baby tooth was originally knocked out. So then I had this "charming" grin. (Try to focus on my Easter basket and cute pink pajamas, and that awesome Swatch watch, otherwise you may run away in horror.)

Although my smile did straighten out a lot on its own, the teeth all remained extremely crooked (there was NO money for braces) and the brown spot was eventually covered. By then I'd figured out the best ways to smile to hide the worst of that nasty smile.



But, the horrible-ness was always there. On many occasions a camera would catch me in a laugh and capture the awfulness in full force. Like this "winner" from my 23rd birthday.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!
(That was me running away screaming, um from myself.)

God Bless Matt for seeing through those awful chompers and falling in love with me anyway. Why is it that his crooked smile and small gap is cute and adorable and mine was so very, very scary?

Thankfully , when I was 24 Matt and I splurged and spent the small fortune it cost to have them fixed. I had 4 veneers put on the front ones to make them straight. I had crown put on 5 others. I had 2 root canals. I had a host of other cavities filled. But at looooong last I had a smile I wasn't ashamed of.

I didn't get it done until after Matt and I had eloped, but thankfully my smile was fixed before our honeymoon, our first stint in California and our big wedding.

Improved? I think so.


To say that my self-confidence improved drastically when I got my teeth fixed is a tiny bit of an understatement. The part of me about which I'd always been the most embarrassed was suddenly fixed!

(This is not to say that by any means there weren't and still aren't any other parts of me for me to be self-conscious about, I am a woman after all... but, it helped. A lot.)

So then this past July when the dentist told me I was going to have to have one of my veneers replaced... you could safely say that I had a bit of a nervous breakdown. Despite my fit, there was no choice, so in August
Dr. Reyes took off the bad veneer and put on a temporary. In the mean time I was left with what I consider to be by FAR the most charming smile I ever had.

(Hmm. Technically, I guess there was a period of 2 weeks back in 2004 where all four of my front teeth looked like that one, so I guess there was a "better" smile. For some reason I don't have any photos of that particular look, though I can't imagine why....)

Anyway, I don't know if it was because I was freaking out about the new veneer not matching or just a great deal of bad luck, but it took 3 visits to the dentist before they FINALLY got it right.

So, today, after school, my smile was returned to "normal."

(And, by the way, why do I have to have such an ENORMOUS forehead?)

I asked the dentist if she could just use temporary glue on the tooth so that if my students or future children ever misbehave I could take it off and snarl my teeny tiny fang at them... she said no.