Snorkeling, etc

Today at Camp Sea World it was my day to take the class of Middle School Students snorkeling at Mission Bay.

Six summers ago, when this job was new and novel to me, I was much younger, more energetic, hadn't become jaded by two years of life in Japan and I didn't know how to Scuba Dive, I LOVED this field trip. That first summer I was assigned to take campers to the Bay about 5 times. Sadly the novelty quickly started to wear off.

In fact that first summer was the last time I actually got into the water to snorkel. Most of the time, I'd swim and play at the shore with the kiddos, but was less than willing to get all the way in. This could have something to do with the fact that it's Mission Bay where the water is on average only 60-70 degrees, wetsuits were not available and the snorkeling usually began somewhere around 9:30 in the morning when the weather is still often overcast and well, still very dreary. But, since this is my second to last week of what very may will be my very last summer at The World, they started providing wetsuits (and I have the underwater camera to play with but no dives planned in the foreseeable future) I decided to go on in.

Here you can see me, oh so excited to have smooshed my body into a children's size 14 wet suit!

Once we were all suited up we shuffled into the water and took the icy plunge. I spent the better part of the trip trying to convince the children that if they would only relax, put their heads in the water, kick slowly and breath through their snorkels they'd not only find the activity to be much more easy and enjoyable, but also run a much higher risk of actually, um, seeing some sea creatures.

So, here I am in the water, and there the group is, splashing on ahead.

But of course, there wasn't much to see. Some schools of small fish. Various boring invertebrates. One shedded exoskeleton of a lobster and a handful of oh so exciting Opal Eye and Sea Bass. Here is one that I actually managed to snap a picture of before the splashing of campers scared him away. How very, very exciting.

So all and all, perhaps I should have stayed on the beach and spent some time laying in the sun to erase those fabulous tan lines of mine.

~~~~~~~~~

Upon returning to Sea World, I walk into the kitchen where the time clock is located and am greeted by the most overwhelming smell of Garlic. Here is the conversation that followed:

Me: Man, why does it smell like Garlic?

Suddenly a Random Resident Camp Counselor Dude comes hurrying into the room

Random Res Camp Counselor Dude: That's my lunch (takes a plastic bowl of Pasta from the microwave.)

Me: What is that? It smells really good... Is it like a Lean Cuisine or something?

RRCCD: It's a Betty Crocker Microwave Meal. I couldn't care less about the calories. Trust me if you lived here you would get tired of the food.

Me: Oh, I know, the camp food is awful. But, yea that looks good now I'm going to have to go to Olive Garden soon.

RRCCD: Ooh, that sounds like a great idea! Do you wanna hang out til my break at 1:00 and we can go together.

Me: (slight pause) Um, no I already have plans for lunch... I have to go. (I did actually have plans to have lunch with Olivia.)

RRCCD: Oh, well, why don't you just give me your number and we can make a date?

Me: (starting to back away and struggling to change the subject) Well, you res camp guys all get off work tomorrow at noon, why don't you all go have lunch together?

RRCCD: (walking with me as he heads towards the lunch tables and I head for the exit) How do you know we get a day off tomorrow? Have you worked Res Camp?

Me: No I've stayed here when I worked Group Camps in the spring but I prefer to have time off in the summer so I stick to Day Camp.

RRCCD: Really, why's that?

Me: Well, for starters I think my husband would normally prefer if I didn't move out for 3 months every summer and I rather like seeing him too.

RRCCD: What? Your married?!? And you were just like, flirting with me and making me want to go to Olive Garden with you?!?!?

Me: Are you kidding? That wasn't flirting and as my husband has been in the Middle East for the last several months I'd rather you not insinuate that I'm, like, leading you on because I asked about your lunch.

Seriously.

To the very best of my memory (a few hours later) that is how the conversation went. What the heck? In what universe does asking somebody what their lunch is and commenting what it is equal flirting? And as for that part at the end, I'm pretty sure nobody ever hits on me, and if they do I am oblivious to their intentions... but, I'm so NOT sure if he was trying to hit on me the whole time and was seriously upset or whether his last bit was kidding. I've seen this Dude around work a few times but the first time I've spoken a word to him. Man do I ever hope he was kidding, but either way this might have been one of the strangest conversations I've ever had.

~~~~~~~~~~

On one final note, when I finally got home and started working on the laundry from the beach I came out of the laundry room to find KC like this, in all of his fat cross-eyed glory:

What we have been up to...

the attached photo is an iraqi oil platform. there are two of them around us. our job is to drive around an keep small boats from getting near. now, you may be asking yourself...why? well (here comes the propaganda), 95% of iraq's gross national product comes from these two platforms. so, if we continue to protect them and keep the oil flowing, then the revenue from that will be used to help improve iraqi and its infrastructure. then, they will be able to begin spending a bit on their armed forces and security will improve and they will be able to take defense of the oplats and the country. that being said, we're driving around trying to make a difference in the situation over here and to help american soldiers come home sooner.

I have the strangest friends....

My friend Robin, is, well, fun.

Seriously. She is the life of any party (in a good, clean fun kind of way, not in a trampy way or anything) despite the fact that she doesn't drink alcohol because she's allergic or something. Now I'm by no means an alcoholic but I have been known to go a teensy bit wild, on occasion. (Usually these occasions include free wine at Navy formals, that is besides the point) and Robin puts me to shame with her antics.

Anyway if you don't believe me, here is a photo of us playing Rock Band earlier this summer:



Ignore the fact that I look ridiculous and you wouldn't even know I was doing anything (that must be my lightening fast drummer skills being too fast for the camera, or something) and focus on Robin with her rocker hair and kick-ass facial expression.

This is pretty much the Robin that we all know and love.

Fun with Furballs

Perhaps one of the best parts about having cats is coming home on a hot summer afternoon from doing something really productive (like getting a pedicure) and finding them stretched out asleep.

Today I found Chase sprawled out at the foot of the spare bed (as per usual) in this wonderful display of kitty stretchiness:

This prompted me to grab a camera. Of course he opened his dazzling blue eyes to glare at me for allegedly disturbing one of his "rare" quiet moments. Then I searched for my other furry Polar Cat.

After looking for awhile I finally found KC in the corner of the living room passed out behind one of the end tables:

Man is he FAT!

I think maybe the thing about cats is they really commit to everything they do, and since sleeping is the thing they do best (and most) they have to put a great deal of effort into it.

Not Quite Date Night

When Matt is actually around we make a fairly regular effort to have date nights. You know, dinner and a movie or something along those lines, where its just the two of us and we have a chance to be together, just the two of us and put aside all the crud that bogs us down. Obviously since he's been on deployment we haven't been having date night, and as a result I'm getting significantly behind in my movie viewing.

The last date night we had included dinner at Daphne's Greek Cafe and Horton Hears a Who.
Other than a Saturday afternoon with a fellow Navy wife to see the Sex and The City movie, this was the last movie I'd seen. How very sad.

So last night Olivia (who I must say is quite a good friend to me because not only does she accompany me to the water park when its cold outside, share an almost constant craving for Mexican food, and pretty much gave me the shirt off her back so I had something to wear to the doctor, but she also let's me drag her out, despite the fact that she really wants to stay in) and I went to see Mamma Mia!

Now as a music teacher, who frankly thinks the world would be a lot more interesting if people would actually break into song and dance periodically in our every day lives, my opinion might be fairly biased, but I think this movie is FANTASTIC!

And, I have to admit, that although I know Meryl Streep is pretty much revered as one of the greatest female actors out there, but I never really got it. She always sort of annoyed me. However, in this movie she's phenomenal. She's funny, charming and just adorable. Sure, she croaks a few notes, but we can't all be young, Swedish pop stars living in the 1970's can we?

I know what some of you are thinking, "Sure, I'd go see that movie, but there is NO WAY the Mister is going to allow me to drag him to see that." Well, I didn't have a boy with me, but there were several in the theater, and I think there is more than enough humor to keep the boys entertained at least well enough to keep them in their chairs. And I will no doubt subject Matt to this film MANY times once it comes out on DVD.

Anyways, that's all from me for now. I'll just be here hear drinking lukewarm tea with honey trying to kill this cough once and for all.

Appointments

Today after work I had a dermatology appointment followed a short time later by a dentist appointment. All week I've been absolutely convinced these appointments were on Thursday, until this morning when I wrote the date and realized they were today. It shouldn't have been a big deal except I was totally sweaty and gross in my work clothes and I really didn't want to wear them in public. Of course, since I was thinking the appointments were tomorrow I didn't have a change of clothes.

I ran into Olivia while she was on lunch and asked if she had a spare shirt. She did, it was the one she wore into work that morning. She said she'd only worn it from the shower at home to the locker room at work where she changed into her work clothes and that if I wanted it I could have it. I took her up on the offer. Thankfully the shirt still smelled fresh and detergenty so I didn't feel gross stealing it from her. Then I went into the park and purchased some jean shorts from the surf shop in the park and a pair of cheap flip flops so that I didn't have to take my foot out of my stinky sea world shoes while the doctor looked at my foot. (Granted I really never need more clothes, but I managed to find shorts and sandals unlike anything I have.) Anyways, so I changed in the car and headed off.

The doctor looked at my psoriasis and offered more treatment ideas, scolded me for not better protecting my skin from the sun and then injected some medicine into the gross thing on the bottom of my foot. I think it is absolutely fantastic that I have to wait 4-6 weeks for an appointment, drive 45 minutes out of my way and sit in a waiting room for an insane amount of time for an appointment where the treatment lasts, approximately 15 minutes.

At the dentist they put on my new, replacement crown. It was less than fun.

I wonder what joyful experiences tomorrow will bring....

Sniff, cough, *ouch*

Remember a few days ago when I was all excited about the fun day at the water park, despite the fact that the weather was unseasonably cool? Well, I'm paying for it now with a nasty little cold. (ugh.) There isn't a much worse time to be sick than the summer. Working at Sea World where you are expected to be cheerful all the time doesn't help either.

Also, I was making an effort to be a good puppy-mama this morning so I played with the doggie for a good 15 minutes before I needed to crate him. Fine lot of good that did, because he slipped out of his collar on the way there and once that happens, its going to be a good loooong while before I can catch him. As a result he spent the day out of his crate.

He rewarded me for his freedom by eating another few square inches of the carpet-- pretty much right in the middle of the living room.

There is no money or time available in the foreseeable future to replace to carpet.

What that means is despite my putting a great deal of money and hard work into the house while Matt has been gone, whenever he finally returns he's not going to be wowed so much by the improvements, but more likely horrified by the large, insanely ugly holes in the carpet.

(I can't stand it.)

Apparently I'm not done yet for today...

OK, so after I finished my previous post I was actually watching an episode of Jon and Kate +8. It was a recap of most embarrassing/favorite memorable moments, and well, it didn't go well. There was a lot of arguing, because, there were a lot of embarrassing moments involving past arguments that they ended up rehashing.

First of all I don't know what on earth the producers were thinking in bringing all that up again. What, are they trying to get more ratings? Do people actually tune in to see them fight, secretly hoping they'll break up?

If so that is the worst thing I've ever heard.

I tune in to be cheered up and, quite honestly, to remind myself that if they can do what they do, I can certainly be a good mother someday too.

I mean, as much as say Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson were COMPLETELY ridiculous on their "Newlyweds" realty show, I was absolutely routing for them. I was very distressed by the press hounding them and when they actually finally broke up I feel it was tragic. Marriage being a sacred union and all.

(In my opinion divorce is for quitters. Really. Even those "crazy" circumstances of abuse and infidelity. Those are all things quitters do. The abuser quits respecting their spouse. The cheater quits being faithful.)

So, if the people tune into watch Jon and Kate argue, and if they producers would try to get them riled up for ratings, that is simply awful. But actually nothing I'd find surprising in today's world.

Anyway, during the episode they made reference to some past episode which I've never seen. Since I was surfing the net anyway I googled the show to look up a list of episodes so that I could figure out which ones I still haven't seen. Along the way, I stumbled into a chat room. Many of the people were discussing details about the family and their lives that they found to be confusing, or the yuckiness of certain toddler related stuff and that was fine. However, a large number of people seemed to be hell bent on getting into those chat rooms to rip Kate to shreds. They complain about her, they psycho-analyze her, they critique her and frankly, IT IS RIDICULOUS!

The woman has 8 kids.
Twins followed shortly thereafter by sextuplets.

Say what you will about fertility treatments backfiring, that is what God gave them. If she, as a wife and mother freaks out at, yells at or picks on her husband on occasion, cut her some freaking slack! I've certainly been guilty of doing all of those things, many times and I don't have ANY children yet. Plus, there isn't a camera crew traipsing through my house adding to the craziness.

As if those stupid people that sit around and pick apart other people are so perfect.

I'm sure they're all perfect parents whose children never cry or scream and clean their plates and haven't even seen a television set in their perfect little lives.

I'm sure they all have perfect freaking marriages and they all mush together with their spouse like cake mixes into sweet perfect little confections, who've never had a disagreement or a nervous breakdown let alone raise their voice. Because you know, husbands are never messy or difficult, stubborn or taciturn.

I'm sure of all this especially because these stupid people have NOTHING better to do than sit around a pick apart a mother of 8 who is willing to open her home to the public and maybe bring a little hope and cheerfulness (not to mention inspiration) to others through the magic of reality TV.

My Semi-Secret OCD Behaviors and other ramblings

So, you know, its Monday evening. It was a chill day despite one heck of a crazy morning so I'm pretty much just killing time surfing the net and watching mind numbing television. All the while, the dog keeps bringing me tennis balls to throw. It doesn't matter to him that half of them are falling apart. It only matters to him that I have long ago tired of wrenching soggy tennis balls from his little jaws so that I can toss them away and have them returned to me in mere moments. The tennis balls continually change color (and occasionally turn into rubber squeaker toys or raw hide chews) but the stream of things to throw continues.

This has got me thinking about obsessions, you know, like the one Brutus has with playing fetch.

Last night I went to dinner with a friend of Matt's named Kristin. She was the Doctor on Kittyhawk and now she is here working at the San Diego Navy Hospital. We're friends, as much as you can ever really be friends with a busy doctor who used to deploy for lengthy spans of time... but she is much more familiar with Matt then me. So as we were gorging ourselves on sushi she started making fun of me for constantly digging out chapsticks. It occurred to me that anyone who knows me well will tell you that I have been a full fledged chapstick addict basically since high school. I literally can not comfortably go anywhere without it. I have been known to wake up from a deep sleep, reapply and then conk right back out. It goes in my BCD when I'm scuba diving and the arm of my jacket when I'm snowboarding. I'm not kidding when I say I have a problem.

But if I think about it, I certainly have a lot of these obsessions, and probably, so do we all. (After all, Matt used to make fun of Kristin for going through the napkin dispensers and ensuring that all the napkins were lined up properly and facing the same direction....)

So, here is my attempt at owning up to my own Obsessive Compulsive Behaviors, Addictions and otherwise unhealthy commitments. Keep in mind these are ALWAYS shifting and changing, but like, right now, mid-deployment these are the things that keep me going:


1. Chapstick (as discussed previously.)

2. Television-
(in particular)

a. General Hospital (It's crap probably, but with DVR its, like, stupid not to keep watching and the other great thing about soap operas is they all but never go in to reruns. So even right now, in the height of summer repeat season, the stories are "fresh" and "new." You know, in that "it's all been done before" kind of way.)

b. Jon and Kate + 8 (Prior to the departure of my husband I had seen roughly 5 minutes of one episode of this show and I didn't much care for it. These days I am hooked. I LOVE the random little adventures they have. I love the random little personalities of the children. I LOVE the clever editing that makes raising two 7 year old and six 4 year olds look, er, charming. Certainly not easy, but, like a really rewarding thing to do. I also LOVE that they are a real married couple. They fight, the gripe, the argue, they get grouchy, they loose their minds.... but ALWAYS.... they make up and love each other. For someone like me that had, well, yucky parents and watched those parents have a yucky divorce, it is really helpful and perhaps therapeutic to see that parents can fight and it might not actually be the end of the world. I'm sure the addiction is all about me wanting to be surrounded by a family, since mine is sort of gone right now, and also about my suddenly loudly ticking clock, but I seriously can't watch this show enough.)

3. Myspace/Facebook/Blogging (The best part about the Internet, I don't care what anybody else says, its that its always on and there is always something new to read. Social networking sights are an enormous blessing to someone who has moved, uh, 4 or 5 times since college because it allows me to find my long lost people. I have a much easier way to communicate with my close friends now and I've been able to find my BFFs from Texas, High School, the OSUMB and Japan. Plus, when I feel lonely or hopeless or- I don't know exceedingly bored- there is always some one's latest blog entry to read or in the very least I can update my own.)


4. Books
I'm one of those people that really enjoys reading, on occasion, when my schedule allows. During the school year I don't have time. But during the summer, when I'm working part time and it is generally too hot to be productive there is nothing better than stretching out in front of a fan and immersing myself into another world. In the past its been Harry Potter, several books by Eoin Colfer and a small selection of random others. I prefer reading that is light, and maybe a few parts fantasy, and while I usually choose books out of the young adult/teen genres I have a really tough time landing on the right stuff.

This summer I stumbled upon the Twilight Series by Stephenie Meyer. I'm sure I'd heard about the stories somewhere, but then I started noticing things about them on Facebook. In June, on a hurried visit to search for a textbook at Barnes and Noble, I found myself wandering the aisles and stumbled upon the books. I picked up Twilight and New Moon (the first 2 of the eventual 4) reasoning that if they sucked I could always bring them back.

That night I was up til about 12:30 reading.

I was hooked.

And like that, another obsession was born.

Luckily, each book is about 500 pages long, so there's plenty of smack to feed my latest addiction. I finished the first 2 books in, roughly 3 weeks. I picked up the 3rd and managed to stretch that to 2 weeks as well (since I was trying to make them last.) The 4th book is due out August 2, and I might pee myself with the anticipation.

Here's the gist (warning, moderate spoilers following:)

Bella is a high school girl who moves to Washington, to be, you know, rained on and miserable. Once there, she ends up crushing on a boy, Edward, who hates her it seems. Soon she realizes that he doesn't actually hate her, he merely finds her to smell delicious since he is a vampire and he is trying to avoid eating her. Somehow they work past it, the whole forbidden love thing ensues, she gets in trouble and he saves her in just the nick of time.

Consequently in the second book Edward decides that despite their whole true love thing, he ought to leave her, for her own good. (Boys that do that sort of thing are, like, sooooo stupid.) Anyway, Bella is devastated and basically broken, until she grows to be best friends with another totally wonderful boy, named Jacob, who ends up being a werewolf. He also ends up falling in love with her. The story goes on, Edward comes back eventually and the most of the third book is about Bella figuring out she has to choose between her boys.

Who knows what is coming in book 4, but it ought to be a lot of fun!

Here's the thing though: I am waaaaaaay too caught up in these stories. As I was reading them I was hugely affected. With the exception of the Harry Potter books I've never felt actual emotional responses to something I've read. (I totally cried when Dumbledore died.) At one point, I was all grumpy with Matt and I realized it was because things were not going well for Bella at whatever part of the story I was on.

Meanwhile, several of the girls at work have been discussing the forthcoming book. Apparently there was quite a stir before the release of the 3rd book regarding which boy our heroine would choose. You know, "Team Edward" is all about the first true, eternal love while "Team Jacob" is all about the younger, sweeter, happier, rescuer boy. It's fairly ridiculous. Don't get me wrong, overlooking the demonic sides of each boy, any woman would be happy to have one of those two. But, like, she's NOT going to end up with Jacob. It is NOT happening. It isn't. Forgetting the fact that the author goes into great detail on her website about how the story started out about Bella and Edward, and Jacob was one of those little characters that got out of hand. Also, having read the third book, it seems to me that the choice is already made. And I'm fine with that. Go Edward!

Recently, though, I had this realization while I was laying in bed obsessing about this silly story when I really ought to have been sleeping. I had very few boyfriends prior to my husband. None of them were actually serious. None of them even lasted in the actual relationship phase for more than 2-3 months before dissolving into some sort of dysfunctional friendship. The one boy that I really, truly, thought that I did love, kind of broke my heart. Meanwhile, the boy that helped me get over it, the friend that was my goofy cheer me up rescuer boy... he and I started dating and yea, his name was Matt- who I've been married to for almost 6 years.

Weeeeird. Here I am all along routing for the first love boy, when quite clearly for me the first love boy was not the one. Kind of put an interesting spin on the story for me.

Or, maybe I really do just need to get a life and stop obsessing about these books.

Tunnel Water Slides ARE Scary!!!

Today since it is rapidly approaching the dog days of summer, my good friend Olivia and I went to Knott's Soak City for what we really hoped would be a fun day in the Southern California sun. Unfortunately, there is some weirdo weather system sitting off the coast and it is screwing with our weather. Now, if you've never been to this part of the country we have this weather phenomenon called a marine layer which basically consists of a whole mess of thick cloud cover every morning in the spring and early to mid summer caused by the collision of the hot dessert air and the cool ocean air. Normally this phenomenon is only a real nuisance during two months which have earned the names "May-Gray" and "June-Gloom." As you may have guessed, this means that by mid-July it really shouldn't be a problem. if the haze does appear in the summer the heat of the sun usually burns off the clouds by 9 am or earlier as you go further inland.

As luck would not have it, this was not the case today. When we arrived at the the park around 11:00 am it was only a whopping 65 degrees with loads of clouds. Yuck. But, since there are only so many free weekends in a summer, particular for people who have jobs in an Amusement Park themselves, we decided we would have fun regardless. We got our lockers, and headed off to enjoy a few slides. Along the way screaming, wedgies and water up the nose were enjoyed by all.

Also, I have sort of an irrational fear of those tunnel slides that you slide down without a tube. I'm perfectly fine plummeting through a dark watery tube as long as my heiney is firmly planted between an air filled ring of rubber. However, if you ask me to lay down on the hard plastic slide, cross my arms and shoot through the dark I find myself becoming exceedingly claustrophobic. This is not made any better by the landing at the bottom in a pool of water where no matter how I prepare myself I crash into the water with my ass and feet toward the sky and get extraordinary amounts of water up my nose. It sucks. So, at one point I opted for the open air model. "Silver Strands" or something like that. Apparently the silver is in reference to the fact that this particular chute is intended for geriatric riders since it was very, very, very slow. I tried everything to speed up, even pushing myself with my hands for momentum. Olivia still beat me to the bottom in her tunnel slide by about 5 minutes. Okay, maybe not that long... but it was a while.

At that point since it was still pretty much freezing out and I was unwilling to take a second go on any of the tunnel slides coupled with the fact that we'd already plunged ungracefully butt first into the water out of the slides, we decided to head over to the lazy river. This seemed like a good idea because it was seriously warmer in the water than out, and I wanted to play with my waterproof camera some more.

Olivia had the camera first. It was a bit difficult for her to get a shot what with the fact that she does not know how to work the camera coupled with the fact that she floated upstream so much faster then I did (because she is much more, uh petite.) Anyway, eventually she got this shot of me, let's call the angle, um, "artistic. Notice the exceptionally AWESOME tan lines on my feet from my Sea World sandals. Jealous?

Anyway, we floated on. Olivia floated ahead and I jumped out of my tube to catch up to her. People bumped into us, we bumped into them. We narrowly missed running over small children. We screeched under the water falls. Finally, we both ended up climbing off our tubes and sticking our heads through them so as to be more in the water and keep warmer as well as to be able to steer. After several dozen attempts we also finally got a picture of the two of us together where one of us didn't look completely like an idiot. (Ok, maybe I still look mostly like an idiot, but not completely.)



It was around this time that something miraculous happend.

Wait for it...

that's right...

the sun actually came out!!!

I took this as a sign that it was time to do anything in my power to over come the very embarrassing tan induced by my Camp Sea World shorts so I attempted to lay on top of my tube and sunbathe. Olivia said I was trying to look sexy, so, in honor of my beloved long deployed husband, here is a photo. Let's hope he enjoys, although I don't think anyone would call that sexy.

Eventually we headed over to the "wave pool." Notice the quotation marks. They are there intentionally. This particular concrete body of water did indeed have a wave machine, that well, stirred things up a bit every 8 or 9 minutes. But I wouldn't dare to call them waves. Small, slow moving sail boats stir things up more. It was pathetic. So instead we had more photography fun. Like when we noticed the extremely helpful pool depth markers.

I mean really.... I know a person can drown in like 2 inches of water, let alone 6, but do we really need the sign?

(If you didn't believe me about the truly awesome shorts tan, this shot captures it exceptionally. Also, notice the spectacular bruise on my thigh, the direct result of my campers failing to warn me that I was about to fall into a planter... stupid campers. Heh! You should see the other guy, er, flowers... poor smooshed marigolds. I wonder how upset the gardeners were when they found the poor squashed buds with enormous butt prints in them.)

Anyway, Olivia being a dolphin trainer, who is expected to pass a fairly rigorous swim test each year (which includes a timed freestyle swim, 110 foot underwater swim and a 28 foot free dive) decided this was just the right spot to practice for the next one.

We were dying laughing.

The lifeguards probably thought we were nuts.

(We're ok with that.)


Since the waves waves were, well, lame, we took a few dozen underwater shots (all the while wishing one of us had thought to bring goggles just so we'd be able to see what we were doing.

I'm only posting the best one of me, and sparing Olivia the embarrassment since this isn't her blog.... but looking at this photo and seeing the small stream of bubbles escaping from my nose (despite my making EVERY effort to keep that from happening) I can't help but wonder how those photographers are able to get shots of the trainers underwater with Shamu without all the embarrassing nose bubbles.

Anyway, after the wave pool we had some pizza for lunch before heading off to endure the rather lengthy lines for the big, multiple person raft slides which were like, so much fun. Finally, we headed back to the speed slides and Olivia got me back on the tunnel slides, which, actually were pretty fun (except for the embarrassing splash landing into the pool at the bottom.)

It was a very good day, even with the weather being yucky. I am a water baby.

:)

Summer time rocks! (Dorky tan lines and all...)

In Search of Toys

As you probably will have figured out by now, my dog is a little spoiled. I mean, I'm not crazy about it, but he does have a lot of toys. This is in large part due to the fact that any given moment most of these toys are under some piece of furniture or another.

Usually, when he wants a toy he whines and "oofs" and generally carries on until someone gets him whatever he wants. Sometimes he tries to scratch or dig through whatever piece of furniture is in his way. However, on occasion an executive decision is made by myself (or possibly the cats) to leave whatever toy it is under the furniture because it is squeaky and pretty darn annoying. On several of these occasions Brutus has decided he isn't happy with our plan and takes matters on himself.

As you can see by the above photo, where the he has shimmied right under the coffee table in search of his little rubber pink barbell. Of course, then he couldn't get back out. Fun times were had by all.

Sleepiness

It's hot and has been a long week so I am feeling very tired right now, Most likely soon I will be taking a nap in front of a fan. For this reason today I am posting the very cutest picture of Brutus sleeping that I have.

Sometimes he is almost too cute to be allowed.

(That's probably a good thing because it keeps him alive when he, say, chews up the stopper for the bathtub while I am at work which he just happened to do this morning.)

Killer Dog and Kayaking

As I mentioned a few posts ago, I've now spent 4 birthdays at Camp Sea World while Matt is away. While this seems to be the norm now, the first time it happened (the year I turned 25) I was pretty upset about it, so as a consolation prize for myself I went to a gift shop after my shift and bought the second to largest stuffed Shamu I could find.

Pretty much ever since I've slept with it, despite the fact that I am a grown, married woman and there really is no good reason why I should still be sleeping with stuffed animals. Its really soft though and it just perfectly fits into the crook of my arm while I sleep and since Matt loves me he puts up with it. (Although if you ask him, he'd probably tell you that it only comes in the bed when he is NOT home, which I assure you is untrue. And, for that matter, while I am humiliating my husband I'll just have you all know that on many occasions I've woken up in the middle of the night to find him cuddled with good old Shamu.)

Anyway, within a few weeks after Matt left Brutus had successfully chewed all of his toys to shreds, but I was trying in vain to break him of the chewing habit so I hesitated to rush out and buy him any more right away. Until the day that I heard a horrible ruckus coming from behind the sofa and found this to be going on:

Granted its not the best photo, but you get the point. Apparently this was his way of telling me that he NEEDS chew toys to destroy, especially since at this point the Shamu and the doggy were roughly equal in size. Luckily, Shamu survived unharmed and Brutus has since mostly left him alone. I am only sorry I missed seeing him dragging the thing down the hallway.

***************

In other news, since I have 4th and 5th graders this week I got to take them over to Mission Bay kayaking this morning. Since I had to go anyway (as if its so rough,) I decided to put my new camera in its waterproof case and give it a whirl.

Here I am (keep in mind, I'm getting paid, poorly perhaps, but paid none the less to be there:)

Here are the kids playing from the beach after the first half of our kayak trip.
Yes I realize it is a far off shot, but I am working under the assumption that it may not be a stellar idea to post pictures of other people's children on the Internet.

Then Kevin got a hold of the camera so I showed him just how much I was happy about that.

Or, possibly, I am one of those people who really thinks it it amusing to make funny faces for cameras. Hey, don't judge, I also think that if people can call eating a sport (like the big 4th of July hot dog eating contest in New York) that burping should be a sport too.

Baby Brutus

Many of you might be wondering why I spend so much of my blogging time talking about my dog. Well, the answer to that is of course quite simply that I don't have children to blog about. And the interesting thing about the Internet is that with networking sights like Facebook and Myspace nowadays helping me find all my old friends from Ohio and Texas and everywhere, I am starting to feel like I am the only one without them.

Now of course I know that is not true. Lots of my friends do not have kids. However, many of them do. And many of those people aren't even married. (Not that I am in anyway disrespecting the remarkable work that single mothers do every day... ) But I've been married for quite awhile, why do they get to have them and I don't? I'm just saying. It sucks sometimes. Forget my family issues and my fear, Matt and I deserve a family of our own too.

But this is not a post about why we haven't yet had a child, it is about why we choose to get a dog (on top of our two cats) first.

Back when we lived in Japan I really started to want one (a dog I mean.) We tried for a baby while we were there, but didn't have luck, probably because Matt was gone more than half the time. And while I was never a big dog person, I like animals a whole lot, and was very devoted to my first cat, Britney. But, in Japan dogs are all the rage. And the thing about having a dog in Japan is that most people have a no yard. Nearly everyone lives in apartments, and those yards that do exist are very small, so people walk their dogs a lot. The other thing about Japan is the traffic stinks. The "freeways" are all toll roads and the regular roads, which they sometimes even dare to refer to as "highways" weave around the hills and through the mountains, with ridiculously slow speed limits and absolutely suck. So while our commute from the Base Housing area to main base was only 7 miles it could take anywhere from 20 to 45 minutes on a normal day. All the while, you're sitting in traffic wanting very badly to road rage on someone, that the sun would shine through the clouds and densely packed buildings or in the very least that there were some actual English Speaking Radio Stations to listen to (thank you God for iPods.) So we'd tend to look out the windows a lot and watch the pedestrians go about their business, including all the dog walkers.

We'd see everything. Wiener dogs were very popular as were Shih tzus and other pathetic little toy breeds. Many wore very embarrassing outfits. The worst was when it rained. Golden Retriever owners, in particular, used to thoroughly enjoy humiliating their poor dogs by making them wear rain coats. (There was one man we passed often who not only subjected his poor Golden to the coat, but also made him carry his poo bag in his mouth by the handle.) Anyway, it wasn't very long before I really started to want a furry puppy of my own.

Matt didn't help. He knew I was unhappy living there and he'd do whatever he could to make me smile. He'd ALWAYS point out every single dog to make sure I saw it. And, when I was very good he'd take me to the Homes store (which was somewhere between a Walmart and an Ikea) and let me hem and haw over the puppies there.

In Japan many people prefer their dogs as small as they can get them, and the animals in these pet stores were no exception. They were tiny! And it wasn't just the dogs: cats, hamsters, mice, ferrets, toads, turtles and birds too. Once Matt and I were shocked to find baby birds in a pet store that didn't even have their adult feathers yet.

It was at one of these visits to Homes that we first saw Shiba Inu puppies. Matt was the one who saw them first. He was fascinated because of course they really do look like little foxes. After that we began seeing them out on the streets everywhere so I researched them on the Internet finding out that they are one of Japan's ancient breeds but are a fairly recent addition to AKC, they usually max out around 30 lbs and are basically a compact dog with a big dog attitude. After that I informed Matt we'd be getting one someday, (because of course Doggies were not allowed to live in the high rise apartment building we lived in.

So, in November of 2006 we came back to California, but we ended up in an Apartment, which once again did not allow dogs. Over the summer of 2007 we noticed the price of houses coming down and we started to look, and if you asked our realtor, he'd tell you that my one stipulation was whatever we purchased had to have a dog friendly yard. We closed escrow and I moved us into our New home on Saturday November 3, 2007. Matt finally got to see our place when he came back from being at sea on the Tuesday the 13th (don't get me started on the joys of closing escrow and moving without him.) Then I had sort of a bad day at work on Thursday the 15th and randomly stopped at the mall to visit the pet store and cheer myself up with the cuddly little puppies. How was I supposed to know they'd actually have a Shiba there?

So I walk in and then eventually wander over to the window to see my little dream dog. He was tiny and looking very confused and perhaps a little scandalized with his surroundings because it was his first full day in the store. Then the sales girl asked me if I wanted to play with him. I declined but kept standing there for quite awhile. She came back, and since I'd never really played with one of them before I agreed. He waddled around and chased after a gigantic tennis ball (gigantic because at the time he was tiny) before climbing into my lap and falling asleep.

The girl came to check on me and we started talking. (Come to think of it this might start to sound very similar to how I recently ended up with a new car...) I asked her how much. She told me and I had a heart attack. She told me if I really wanted maybe she could get the manager to make a deal. I hemmed and hawed, she made the price a little better until on a whim I decided to call Matt. I told him I'd found our dog. He frowned deep enough that I could hear it over the phone. He asked the price, I told him the marked down version and then he had his own heart attack. I whined a little, he rolled his eyes and argued with me and eventually he decided to bail out of work and come take care of the situation. He hung up the phone and promised to call me when he was off the ship. I used the opportunity to send him a few photos of the adorable-ness, including the photo below.

If you notice I used not only the cuteness of the dog, but also of me to win him over. :)

Once he was on the road he called me to say he'd gotten the pictures and also that traffic was a nightmare. He asked me to go home and wait until tomorrow, but I was worried they'd sell him. I convinced him to make the nightmare trek in 5:00 traffic 45 miles from the base to the north county mall I was at. I sat in the store afraid to leave lest someone else buy MY puppy, who was cuddled up on my lap and waited.

Cut to, 60 minutes later, (or possibly more.) A very annoyed Matt came in, took one look at me and the doggy cuteness, told the store people to hold the "mutt" (which I'm certain our future little Brutus found very insulting to his pedigree bloodlines) and dragged me out of the store, upstairs to the Red Robin so he could get a soda and cheeseburger and try to talk some sense into me.

He lost.

(It should be noted at this point that a few months later, shortly prior to the deployment, whilst in the midst of a fairly significant argument I asked Matt if he even loved me. Yea yea, what an unfair question but I was upset and he does tend to be a little robotic with his emotional expression. When he insisted that he did I asked him why. Of the reasons he quoted me, 2 of them pertain particularly well to this situation.

These were:

"You are always looking to an opportunity to love"

and

"You can talk me into almost anything."

Clearly it as if he wanted me to have the dog all along. )

In the end, I believe his words were, "Against my better judgement, ok."
So we got a dog.

Aside from the price tag, the craziness, and the constant destruction (particularly where the carpet is concerned) I can't even imagine whatever he meant.

Crazy Pictures of My Dog

It's Monday.

I hate Mondays.

It doesn't help that it was a particularly fun (and also a little drunk) weekend, but I hate getting up to get back to the grindstone. Also, Matt is probably going back to his ship any day now so I'll have to wake up to the alarm clock again instead of the ringing phone that happily brings me his voice.

Anyway, this week, I've decided to post some more pictures of my dog, because, well he does some crazy things, and nobody besides Matt ever believes me. He's supposed to be a really intelligent breed, but in his case this only means that he has learned how exactly to get attention from me, even if it is negative. For a long time he stole things. It didn't matter if it was a pen (which he eventually ate and got ink all over the carpet,) a magazine, my keys or, I don't know, a cupcake. If you left something unguarded on the coffee table and dared to ignore the little beast, he'd steal it.

And then I'd chase him round and round the living room for fear that he'd eat what ever it was (and stain the carpet- in the case of the pen, make himself sick or really hurt himself.)

So for my first photo of the week I bring to you my little boy who is not ready for Kindergarten because clearly he doesn't understand that it is NOT safe to run with scissors.



Perhaps he heard that Shiba Inus are supposed to very good watch dogs. Since he is much more likely to jump on and lick a visitor to death than actually scare them away, I figure he decided to try a different approach.

Happily, with some advice from my Vet I've used a spray bottle to get him to drop items without me actually catching him, and now, thankfully, as long as the bottle is visible, he isn't likely to steal anything.

Happy (Late) Birthday to me!

Well, as many of you may know (and the rest of you are about to know) on Thursday I had a birthday. As it happened this was a fairly significant one. It had the potential to be, well, either a very big deal or a little traumatic. That's right people, I am no longer a young person, I can no longer flitter away my days and blame it on my wild youth, because as of Thursday, I am 30 years old.

*sigh*

All things considered, I think I have handled it pretty well so far, particularly since Matt is not here and that really puts a damper on any desire I have to celebrate. He has the most uncanny ability to miss my birthday. We started dating when I was 19, and of the 10 birthdays I've had since then, he's spent exactly 2 with me. When I turned 20 he was in Spain on his midshipmen cruise. He was with me for 21 but when I turned 22 he was in Georgia. For 23, we were together in Texas but for 24 he was on house hunting leave in California. For 25 he was out to sea for the week, and called me to tell me that if I squinted my eyes really carefully I probably would have been able to see him sitting off shore from Pt. Loma. When I turned 26 he was in Georgia again, 27 and 28 he was on summer cruise from Japan and for 29 he was sitting aboard ship off the coast of Pt. Loma again. Do you see a trend here? I swear, I wish he'd just jumped over board- he could have swam home with very little effort. Then of course this year he's in Bahrain. Sweet. The only plus side to this whole thing is Matt says I do not have to count any of the birthday's he's missed, so, YEAH, that means I'm only 22. :)

That works. Most people I tell me I look something like 24 or 25. Someone recently asked me how long I've been married. When I told them that it's rapidly approaching 6 years they were shocked. They were like, what were you 17 or 18 when you got married?

Hahahahah!

Getting back to reality though, I must say it is interesting embarking on a new decade of your life. Pretty much ever since I got married (not at 17, but at the very reasonable age of 24,) I was determined to spend the rest of my twenties concentrating on my career, having fun and settling into my life with Matt so that when the time came that I was 30, I'd be ready to have children. Admittedly, along the way the plan deviated. The navy worked hard to squash my career, but in the process we travelled a great deal. We did try for children earlier, but all the while, God kept me to my (His) original plan. So, happily, now that I am 30 I am ready and willing to move on to the next phase of my life as planned. I'm ready to have children, and it honestly doesn't terrify me like it kind of used to (well except the part about labor and breast feeding.) I'm not afraid of turning into my mother or of giving up all my favorite hobbies, rather I'm eager to move on to the trials and joys of motherhood.

The problem of course, is that the Daddy is not here to make me a Mommy. Stupid Navy. This has been the hardest part of the birthday. I know that we are just over half way through this deployment and before long he will be home to, well, make even more of my dreams come true. But right now, it feels like an eternity before I'm going to feel his arms around me again.

Anyway, the day was no big deal. Matt called me early. I worked at Sea World in the morning (as I have for 3 birthdays before.) Then I worked on school work and I had dinner at Olive Garden with a friend. The most surprising part of the days was the dozens of unexpected cards, phone calls, and emails I received from friends and family members with well wishes. That was very nice. (Thank you all SO much for remembering me everyone, especially since I am a champion of forgetting birthdays.)

But last night a few friends and I got dressed up and went out downtown to celebrate properly. You know, with good food and alcohol. :) We went to my favorite restaurant, The Yardhouse. Below are some photos, (except it is a little sad that there are no shots where you can see my fabulous shoes.)

Here I am with Stephanie "cheersing" to our 30s with yummy Raspberry Cider:

Olivia, Me and Little Jenn:

Everyones' Good Friend Peter:

MISS GETSAMANI!!!!

Better late than never, Maria made it at the end. She either needs to grow or start wearing heels, because she makes me feel like an Amazon sometimes, particularly when I'm wearing fabulous 4 inch heels.

I miss the long weekend...

Well, all in all I'd say it was an interesting weekend and really not what I was expecting.

Friday I woke up nice and early thanks to the dogs. Matt called at some point in the morning and he told me that I should go test drive a few cars. That way, if I decided what I wanted he could maybe get one through Navy Auto Sales for a good deal. So first I went and test drove the Hybrid Escape which was what I thought I wanted, because I loved the Escape I had. However, Matt wanted me to pursue some little, cheap fuel efficient (non-hybrid) vehicles. So I headed over to the VW dealership to check out the new Rabbits. (Matt had strongly considered getting one of those before he ended up buying his Civic.)

Long story shortened, the dealership was closing early and I only had time to test drive one car. The rabbits were all inside but there was this cute little 06 Audi A3 Sport wagon-FULLY loaded, for a very nice price parked out front. I like the idea of those sport wagons because you get the space but not the gas mileage of an SUV. So we went out to test drive and low and behold... we ran out of gas. Spectacularly, on the entrance ramp to the free way as close to the middle of nowhere as you really can get inside San Diego (one of the roads that cuts through Miramar...) So we get out and stnad along the side of the road baking in the sun like idiot and wait a good 20 minutes of so before the dealership finally sent the guy with gas out to find us. So I finally finished the test drive (what a fast car!!!) and when we got back the dealership was all but closed up but the sales guy and manager were sooooo embarrassed all by the whole ordeal that they started telling me they could make me a realllllly good offer. I was pessimistic but went inside to talk numbers. I knew the sticker price was good, but it was still more than I really wanted to pay for car, let alone the fact that I had no ability to talk to my husband about it.


They sweetened the deal, I hemmed and hawed, they added more sugar, my willpower weakened, they gave me even more money on the trade in of my escape and at long last I caved. (Like anyone who knows me is surprised, everyone knows I'm a sucker for a good deal on normally expensive stuff.)


Matt, for his part, wasn't tooooo mad. He was, well disappointed I think, at first, but in the end, he seems ok with it because I said he could drive it when he wants.

So, here is a photo:
Needless to say, I spent the rest of the weekend at home, working to get Matt to be ok with it. His biggest issue is we've been planning to buy a new car in October, once he's home. Now I'm making payments on two cars and there's just me here to drive them.

Anyway, I have homework I should be doing. I have to get a good grade in these classes if I'm going to finish my CLAD, clear my Credential and keep my job so I can make the payments. :)

Happy Fake Friday!

The thing about working with children is that long weekends make them crazy. I'm just saying is all. And on top of that, I left my morning soda in the car this morning so I had to deal them on zero caffeine. Not a pretty picture.

After work today I stopped by the dentist to make an appointment. As it happened they had one open this afternoon, which I took it since I am about 2 years over due for a cleaning. After what may have been the longest cleaning in dental history (very chatty hygienist) the doctor looked at my x-ray and declared I have a crack in one of my molars (one of the like 3 molars that isn't already crowned.) Then she declared one of my gold crowns to be loose and in need of replacing. As if that wasn't bad enough she also decided that one of my front veneers needs replacing.

um, excuse me what?

I am considering getting a second opinion.

It's been 5 years since I had my teeth fixed, so I suppose it is only natural that someone with naturally rotten teeth like me have more issues by now. And I am fine with replacing the crown, since with insurance its not going to cost that much. The veneer on the other hand... they cost about a grand a piece to put on and probably the navy won't pay (even though the official reason I had veneers is because I broke my front tooth in high school.) And, mine are beautiful!! I am VERY concerned that the new one isn't going to match. Oh, and it SUCKS to have them put on. Not to mention the part where she takes the original one off. OUCH.

Dammit.

I am really not happy.

Really.

But, um, in the interest of not being a total grump in this entire post, here is a happy picture of me at the beach last weekend.

Fair = BAD

After work this afternoon I went to the North County (San Diego) Fair with my friends Stephanie and Angie to enjoy the fun and well, food.

Now, I'm not a fair snob its just that I grew up in the capital of a fairly agricultural state and had the pleasure of attending the Ohio State fair many times and having a great deal of fun along the way. The dairy barn ice cream is a must and Matt and I have been know to really enjoy the lemon shake ups, steak on a stick, corn on the cob, elephant ears and candy by the lb. Actually, now that I think about it I've only been to another county fair once in my life, it was the county fair where Matt grew up and I even remember finding that to be rather disappointing.

But San Diego is a huge county (it takes close to two hours to drive through it) so I figure this particular county fair should be great. Last year Matt and I went for a grand total of maybe 3 hours (they don't actually have very many animals at this particular fair, which is where I used to spend lots of my time) before I was done in after enjoying only a few treats and being done in by delicious by extraordinarily greasy deep fried zucchini. (ugh, boy was I sick.) I also must point out that nobody sells Elephant Ears here. What? Is that a Midwestern thing?

Anyway, I happily starved myself today after breakfast until fair time so I could enjoy the greasy goodness again this year. I mean, how could I possibly be expected to remember the unhappy consequences of my "diet" last year? (I thought I'd be ok just to avoid the zucchini.)

I started off with some deep fried potato skins covered in cheese. yum. (my tummy hurt afterward but I figured I was just full.) Steph got a smoothie. I got a soda. Angie got mini donuts. Steph and I split a half dozen. (More deep fried...what was I thinking, although they have been known to deep fry twinkies, snicker bars, white castle burgers and krispy kreme donuts, so things considered, I think I was doing pretty good.) I passed up on the greasy pizza and hot dogs (even thought they really looked good.) The line for the corn on the cob was ridiculous. :( Angie got some fresh potato chip things for us all to split and I chose to remember the moment with a photo...

After stuffing ourselves to the point of popping the buttons off our shorts, we explored the buildings full of little booths full of ridiculous items that I can't ever imagine buying. Then Steph bought a mop and I ate my words (possibly the only non fattening thing I ate all day.) But, I guess back in the day I bought LOTS of beanie babies at the fair, and also I have a very adorable teddy bear made from llama fur or something, so maybe I really should not judge. After that, Steph got a frozen banana, I got a banana split and we headed out.

I was still feeling pretty good, considering. I hadn't gone broke or used up my calories for the entire rest of the week, so I figured I'd be ok.
Except, you know, not. Let's just say my digestive system is very, very, very angry with me.
What on EARTH was I thinking? Next year, please remind me not to do this myself again. I'm going to bed.