This morning it was super cold out and I was really looking forward to a nice hot shower to warm up. No sooner had I gotten in and started washing my face when all of the sudden I felt something lightly pinching on my nipple. Yep - I just went there. I ignored it at first, because I mean come on, SURELY there was no one there... but then I felt it again and when I swatted.... THERE WAS A MALE HAND THERE.
I realize who I married and I should come to expect this by now, but after living alone for 3 years, you tend to learn that shower + random male hand on your boob = scream bloody murder and start swinging. Ben laughed maniacally like, hey, how stupid is this girl? So. Much. Fun. Well guess what, baby? I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE AND I WILL POST IT ON THIS VERY BLOG.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
Ridgeback Scarves
They're all the rage in Milan
I'm really not sure what's wrong with Kimber's brain, but she would rather be on your head than in your lap. We usually fight with her and hold her down until she gives up, but last night Ben really wanted to see where she was going with this. We thought she was trying to get closer to me because she stalks me day and night, but she stopped right there, hung her head, and relaxed. PETA is not going to like this.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
What I Learned in One Semester of Nursing School
Tomorrow at 10 am marks the official end of my first semester. I'm trying really hard not to screw up my good grades at the end of the semester, but concentration has been a bit of an issue. I thought I was too old for that and this time would be different, but here I am... procrastinating. Since I was fortunate enough to have gotten some clinical experience at my last job, this semester hasn't been as hard on me as it has on others. Sure, I got shingles, but at least my sanity stayed mostly in tact. Regardless of all that scholastic nonsense, here's what I really learned:
1. There are a lot of us who are paying out of pocket and did not gain automatic acceptance who would really like to hear what our instructors have to say while in class. There are a few who don't meet that criteria who make it extremely difficult for the rest of us to concentrate.
2. The classes you find most worthless to your career will require you to do the most work... and no, it will not be graded.
3. Wasting class time with questions about whether or not you have Alzheimer's because this one time you stuck the milk in the pantry and your cereal in the refrigerator are not appreciated. Neither are questions about the contents of your kid's poop or starting every question with "I have a question." I mean, COME ON.
4. Most of our instructors are generally kind-hearted and easy to relate to. Don't mistake that for weakness. They will eat you alive.
5. Going to college for the second time will make you feel downright crotchety. Remember when you were 19 and acted that stupid? Didn't think so.
All in all, I had a pretty good run this semester, but I'm pumped for Christmas break. I've missed these month-long sabbaticals. Back in my corporate world days, I used to start new jobs in November and never was able to build up enough leave to get a decent break around the holidays while everyone else was off. It's times like these I really start to understand why some people are perpetual students.
1. There are a lot of us who are paying out of pocket and did not gain automatic acceptance who would really like to hear what our instructors have to say while in class. There are a few who don't meet that criteria who make it extremely difficult for the rest of us to concentrate.
2. The classes you find most worthless to your career will require you to do the most work... and no, it will not be graded.
3. Wasting class time with questions about whether or not you have Alzheimer's because this one time you stuck the milk in the pantry and your cereal in the refrigerator are not appreciated. Neither are questions about the contents of your kid's poop or starting every question with "I have a question." I mean, COME ON.
4. Most of our instructors are generally kind-hearted and easy to relate to. Don't mistake that for weakness. They will eat you alive.
5. Going to college for the second time will make you feel downright crotchety. Remember when you were 19 and acted that stupid? Didn't think so.
All in all, I had a pretty good run this semester, but I'm pumped for Christmas break. I've missed these month-long sabbaticals. Back in my corporate world days, I used to start new jobs in November and never was able to build up enough leave to get a decent break around the holidays while everyone else was off. It's times like these I really start to understand why some people are perpetual students.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Neglect
These past few weeks have been crazy!! I had papers and final practicums, the Hodges came to town (finally) and goodness knows what else due and unfortunately through all that, nothing funny happened. Not one thing. Except maybe it was a little cute that Hank who normally fears little kids was all over 18 month old William like white on rice to the point that William finally started hitting him in the face and yelling, "STOP!!!" Hank just wagged his tail and continued the ridiculous amount of sniffing and face smelling. I can't blame the kid - I would have hit him too.
Speaking of Hank, he turned 6 yesterday. I spent the day making homemade treats and yelling "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!" at him every chance I got. He mostly just looked at me like I had lost it, but he did enjoy the treats. He also got a new toy, which he proudly carried around most of the day, at least until I hit the quacker, which of course scared him and then he proceeded to try to kill it by ripping out the stuffing. You win some, you lose some.
Anyway, for those of you who have pups, mine go absolutely psycho for these:
1 cup peanut butter
1 cup milk
1 tbsp baking soda
2 cups whole wheat flour
Mix the milk and peanut butter in a bowl thoroughly, then add to the dry ingredients. Knead until well mixed, then roll out flat on a lightly floured surface. Cut out shapes with cookie cutters (I have bones and fire hydrants) and bake at 375 for 20 minutes until golden brown. Let cool and store in an airtight container. Keep your fingers out of the way if you have a ridgeback. :)
Speaking of Hank, he turned 6 yesterday. I spent the day making homemade treats and yelling "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!" at him every chance I got. He mostly just looked at me like I had lost it, but he did enjoy the treats. He also got a new toy, which he proudly carried around most of the day, at least until I hit the quacker, which of course scared him and then he proceeded to try to kill it by ripping out the stuffing. You win some, you lose some.
Anyway, for those of you who have pups, mine go absolutely psycho for these:
1 cup peanut butter
1 cup milk
1 tbsp baking soda
2 cups whole wheat flour
Mix the milk and peanut butter in a bowl thoroughly, then add to the dry ingredients. Knead until well mixed, then roll out flat on a lightly floured surface. Cut out shapes with cookie cutters (I have bones and fire hydrants) and bake at 375 for 20 minutes until golden brown. Let cool and store in an airtight container. Keep your fingers out of the way if you have a ridgeback. :)
Monday, November 23, 2009
Vote for Hank
This morning my mom sent me an email about a photo contest for the cutest dog of the season. The winning dog gets put on a greeting card, $1k, and $1k to their favorite animal charity. No offense, Kimber, but I think Hank would make a wonderful greeting card. That and I can't get you to sit still for more than half a second without you running over to me because I stepped more than 2 feet away from you. It's nothing personal.
A few years back Victoria got a super cute/somewhat funny picture of Hank and I thought I might give it a shot. Here's where you guys come in: I need you to vote for Hank. Please click this link and vote every day!! http://www.hhofdogcontest.com/node/1771
A few years back Victoria got a super cute/somewhat funny picture of Hank and I thought I might give it a shot. Here's where you guys come in: I need you to vote for Hank. Please click this link and vote every day!! http://www.hhofdogcontest.com/node/1771
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Spousal Abuse
Yesterday morning Ben got up and left for work at 6 am. I didn't have class until 1, so I had big plans to sleep until 8 or 9, work out, then go to school. The sleeping in part didn't happen, but I didn't really worry too much about it. That happens from time to time and 6 am is a perfectly reasonable time to get up in Big Girl Job world, so I got up and did some P90x.
I had a class from 7-10 pm and usually come home pretty cracked out for whatever reason, so I stayed up until 11 or so and went to bed. After two hours of nothing, I got up and played around on the computer for about an hour. It's amazing what you learn at 1 am from the internet (get your mind out of the gutter, sicko). Incidentally I did come across an article about mammograms, so I guess you can take that either way. Whatever blows your skirt up.
At 2 I went back to bed and felt myself happily drifting off to sleep, that is until a certain oaf who will remain nameless rolled over, crossed his arms over his face in the most hilariously funny fashion, reached over, and stuck his entire hand IN MY EYE. It scared me so badly I was up until 3, at which point he punched me in the face. Then an elbow at 4. I'm not really sure what I did to deserve this. My friend Vanessa suggested that maybe I wasn't doing my wifely duties. I'll have you know I cleaned the house yesterday. Barefoot. Barefoot and definitely NOT pregnant. I'm a good wife.
At one point after he hit me and I fussed, he woke up and said "WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!" Well let's think about this for a minute. MAYBE I'm frustrated because I have been getting beat up on the hour every hour right before I fall asleep. CALL IT A HUNCH. Some time after 5 I was finally asleep, but I had to get up at 7:30 to make up the lab I missed from that ridiculous Nor'Easter. I got up, took a shower, got dressed, fed the pups, and kissed my dear sleeping hubby goodbye only to catch another elbow in the chin.
I'll take 2 dozen tulips and a 60 minute massage. Thanks.
I had a class from 7-10 pm and usually come home pretty cracked out for whatever reason, so I stayed up until 11 or so and went to bed. After two hours of nothing, I got up and played around on the computer for about an hour. It's amazing what you learn at 1 am from the internet (get your mind out of the gutter, sicko). Incidentally I did come across an article about mammograms, so I guess you can take that either way. Whatever blows your skirt up.
At 2 I went back to bed and felt myself happily drifting off to sleep, that is until a certain oaf who will remain nameless rolled over, crossed his arms over his face in the most hilariously funny fashion, reached over, and stuck his entire hand IN MY EYE. It scared me so badly I was up until 3, at which point he punched me in the face. Then an elbow at 4. I'm not really sure what I did to deserve this. My friend Vanessa suggested that maybe I wasn't doing my wifely duties. I'll have you know I cleaned the house yesterday. Barefoot. Barefoot and definitely NOT pregnant. I'm a good wife.
At one point after he hit me and I fussed, he woke up and said "WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!" Well let's think about this for a minute. MAYBE I'm frustrated because I have been getting beat up on the hour every hour right before I fall asleep. CALL IT A HUNCH. Some time after 5 I was finally asleep, but I had to get up at 7:30 to make up the lab I missed from that ridiculous Nor'Easter. I got up, took a shower, got dressed, fed the pups, and kissed my dear sleeping hubby goodbye only to catch another elbow in the chin.
I'll take 2 dozen tulips and a 60 minute massage. Thanks.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Unintentional 4 Day Weekend
This weekend Ben and I got introduced to a very heinous weather pattern common to the east coast: the Nor'Easter. Look at the dog around 57 seconds - this is the look Kimber gave me for 3 days straight! I'm a mean mother for making her go potty in that. Also check out the 2 minute mark. This is why the whole city is covered in debris.
This storm was nuts. We had heard about Nor'Easters, but weren't really aware of the ramifications. Wednesday I went out to campus to study with my friends at Tropical Smoothie. Tropical Smoothie is about a block from the parking garage. I made it across the street before my umbrella flipped completely inside-out, snapping one of the supports and allowing rain to blow in sideways, drenching my body. The wind was completely insane! I found myself ducking into niches in the wall to avoid the rain for several seconds until I could get to the next one. How ridiculous. We got our studying done and right before the storm got really bad, I had enough good sense to go to the store while I was still wet and grab ingredients for Taco Soup. Spending your day drenched and miserable will do that to a person.
Turns out it was a pretty dang good idea. We had very little food in the house and were stuck inside for two days while that crap blew in with the force of a category 1 hurricane. There was a lot of flooding and some people had some pretty bad damage since the storm coincided with the moon's affinity for high tides. Side note: I had no idea the moon affected tidal patterns. I don't pay attention to weather much. School got canceled (and I had to miss a test.... I'm devastated - ha!), Ben's flights got canceled, and we hunkered down with nice hot bowls of delicious soup. Moral of the story: sometimes your cravings really save your life!
This storm was nuts. We had heard about Nor'Easters, but weren't really aware of the ramifications. Wednesday I went out to campus to study with my friends at Tropical Smoothie. Tropical Smoothie is about a block from the parking garage. I made it across the street before my umbrella flipped completely inside-out, snapping one of the supports and allowing rain to blow in sideways, drenching my body. The wind was completely insane! I found myself ducking into niches in the wall to avoid the rain for several seconds until I could get to the next one. How ridiculous. We got our studying done and right before the storm got really bad, I had enough good sense to go to the store while I was still wet and grab ingredients for Taco Soup. Spending your day drenched and miserable will do that to a person.
Turns out it was a pretty dang good idea. We had very little food in the house and were stuck inside for two days while that crap blew in with the force of a category 1 hurricane. There was a lot of flooding and some people had some pretty bad damage since the storm coincided with the moon's affinity for high tides. Side note: I had no idea the moon affected tidal patterns. I don't pay attention to weather much. School got canceled (and I had to miss a test.... I'm devastated - ha!), Ben's flights got canceled, and we hunkered down with nice hot bowls of delicious soup. Moral of the story: sometimes your cravings really save your life!
Monday, November 9, 2009
The Back Massage Liberation Organization
Something has been stolen from me. A thief broke into my house, retrieved a long-awaited package containing a very expensive flat iron, and stole it. Said thief removed the contents of the package and left me with a very detailed ransom message:
To Whom it May Concern, We, the person (aww, just one? how sad for you) of Back Massage Liberation Organization have taken your flat iron and will hold it until our ransom is paid. Our demands are written on back.
1. 2 back massages
2. a foot massage
3. CENSORED (you'll thank me for this)
4. dinner at Moe's
PAY OR ELSE
First of all, I would like to say that I am not impressed by your antics. I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my flat iron go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will burn you with it. I've always wanted to say that.
After finding said ransom note, I looked at Ben who looked back at me giddy with anticipation and announced that I have a pounding headache (still) and that the flat iron will appear eventually. Ben, looking a bit dejected, disappeared into the back of the house. When he returned, he said he received a text message with the thief's picture. The thief was holding a knife, so he said I should be aware that the thief means business:
I think they might be Muslim terrorists.
To Whom it May Concern, We, the person (aww, just one? how sad for you) of Back Massage Liberation Organization have taken your flat iron and will hold it until our ransom is paid. Our demands are written on back.
1. 2 back massages
2. a foot massage
3. CENSORED (you'll thank me for this)
4. dinner at Moe's
PAY OR ELSE
First of all, I would like to say that I am not impressed by your antics. I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my flat iron go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will burn you with it. I've always wanted to say that.
After finding said ransom note, I looked at Ben who looked back at me giddy with anticipation and announced that I have a pounding headache (still) and that the flat iron will appear eventually. Ben, looking a bit dejected, disappeared into the back of the house. When he returned, he said he received a text message with the thief's picture. The thief was holding a knife, so he said I should be aware that the thief means business:
I think they might be Muslim terrorists.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Trying to Keep This Thing Updated
This week has been a rough one. I'm really trying to keep my blog upbeat, but I just can't do it today and I have to get some of these frustrations out. Let's just say Ben's ready to shoot me in the head. It started with the knowledge that I had 3 exams to take and all quickly spiraled downhill after that. Sunday night I started to experience a very familiar burning sensation on my right side, one very consistent with shingles. Talk about annoying.
Monday I took my first exam of the week and it scared the pee out of me. I felt pretty confident going in, but the test was nothing like anticipated. All the points my prof had emphasized were nowhere to be found. Luckily she goes over the answers immediately after the exam, and I missed an A by one question, which again by pure luck she threw out (score!). I'll take a fudged A any day. Monday night I started getting a slight headache, but I attributed that to my 3 hour long night class.
Tuesday I went to the doctor to see about those nasty shingles. I still had the searing pain and was trying to catch the virus before it turned into a rash, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do. My doctor was unwilling to help me without proof for "ethical" reasons. Seriously? I wasn't there for narcotic pain meds - I'm allergic to them anyway. I just wanted to stop the infection before it started. I left feeling stupid and a bit like a liar instead, even though my pain was very real but completely invalidated. That's not a good feeling.
I spent the next couple of days studying a ton of material for my Gerontology exam today. I studied way too hard for this thing, meaning I went way more in depth than necessary and may have missed out on some easy points. At least it's over. One more to go, and I can take that on my own time. I'm thinking maybe once I start feeling better.
The headache has continued throughout the week with no relief. In fact, I think it has gotten worse. It's a bit like a never-ending hangover, only I haven't done anything to earn it. Seems unfair, don't you think? I didn't think it was possible to feel like this without 1/5 of tequila in my system. At least my side pain has felt pretty good by comparison, though it still hurts to wear clothes. Those stupid blisters never did pop out and I can't get medical care until they do. If they don't I can't face my doctor ever again. Just for spite, I'd really like to see this one work out. Shingles are painful, but totally worth it to be able to pop back in with a big fat "IN YO' FACE!!!"
That's right. Nothing like a good "I told you so" to round out a bad week. Now where's the tequila?
Monday I took my first exam of the week and it scared the pee out of me. I felt pretty confident going in, but the test was nothing like anticipated. All the points my prof had emphasized were nowhere to be found. Luckily she goes over the answers immediately after the exam, and I missed an A by one question, which again by pure luck she threw out (score!). I'll take a fudged A any day. Monday night I started getting a slight headache, but I attributed that to my 3 hour long night class.
Tuesday I went to the doctor to see about those nasty shingles. I still had the searing pain and was trying to catch the virus before it turned into a rash, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do. My doctor was unwilling to help me without proof for "ethical" reasons. Seriously? I wasn't there for narcotic pain meds - I'm allergic to them anyway. I just wanted to stop the infection before it started. I left feeling stupid and a bit like a liar instead, even though my pain was very real but completely invalidated. That's not a good feeling.
I spent the next couple of days studying a ton of material for my Gerontology exam today. I studied way too hard for this thing, meaning I went way more in depth than necessary and may have missed out on some easy points. At least it's over. One more to go, and I can take that on my own time. I'm thinking maybe once I start feeling better.
The headache has continued throughout the week with no relief. In fact, I think it has gotten worse. It's a bit like a never-ending hangover, only I haven't done anything to earn it. Seems unfair, don't you think? I didn't think it was possible to feel like this without 1/5 of tequila in my system. At least my side pain has felt pretty good by comparison, though it still hurts to wear clothes. Those stupid blisters never did pop out and I can't get medical care until they do. If they don't I can't face my doctor ever again. Just for spite, I'd really like to see this one work out. Shingles are painful, but totally worth it to be able to pop back in with a big fat "IN YO' FACE!!!"
That's right. Nothing like a good "I told you so" to round out a bad week. Now where's the tequila?
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Falsely Accused
Two blog posts in one day??!! I've really missed you, blog! Obama's giving a speech at ODU today and I'm sitting here waiting hoping to catch a glimpse of the motorcade that's set to go right by my house. I could have gone to the speech but he's promoting a governor candidate and I really don't care about that. Earlier today he spoke at NAS Jacksonville about the military and I would have loved to see that, but sadly, it's not to be.
Look at the guilty face:
But where are all the hungries?
I came home this morning from picking up the newly fixed laptop (thanks Marc! I can't say that enough) to find the cupboard under the pantry open and Gladware all over the floor. I also found a sulky ridgeback complete with Full Shame Face on. Full Shame Face is a rarity these days. Sometimes we get Partial Shame Face or Waggly Tail Look How Cute I Am Please Don't Be Mad, but never Full Shame Face. Apparently Kimber has become aware that she is very well-loved and though we might get angry sometimes, she's here to stay. This is going to come out totally wrong, but her shame face is adorable. She wrinkles her brow and pulls the corners of her mouth super tight into a hilarious smile as she hangs her head in shame and you have to hide your laughter despite your anger. Kind of sad she's not scared of us anymore. I mean that in the best possible way. Really I do.
So there's Gladware all over the floor and a sulky ridgeback and 99% of the time this means something has gone down. Also, when something is broken into, out of, or strewn all over the floor you can bet your sweet sugar Kimber was somehow involved, and by somehow involved I mean that she definitely did it. She's still very much a puppy and it comes with the territory. It doesn't happen much anymore, but that's only because I had to get a lot smarter. You will also find Hank somewhere close by wiggling because he LOVES to see his little sister in trouble. I can't say I blame him, really. My brother never got in trouble and I loved it when he did because I was not a tattletale and I usually got busted because someone tattled. Just sayin'.....
Hank was nowhere to be found this time which I found pretty strange, but there Kimber was... trying to sneak away head hung low. The cabinet's not that easy to get into unless someone leaves it ajar, so I figured sending a picture to Ben would be much more amusing than shaming her further. Besides, I reasoned, she was probably pretty upset to find that the containers were not full of food as she had hoped and she surprisingly enough didn't chew any up. Good Piggie as far as I was concerned.
I sent my picture message pleased with myself for having caught such a funny moment, only to have Ben call me a few minutes later to name the culprit. Kimber was not to blame. Oh, no. It was a far more devious creature that had dumped the contents of the shelf onto the floor... the ever elusive Oafus Amongus (aka Ben).
It's a really good thing I didn't punish the pig.... but then again, why was she in Full Shame Face? I'd better check the house again.
Look at the guilty face:
But where are all the hungries?
So there's Gladware all over the floor and a sulky ridgeback and 99% of the time this means something has gone down. Also, when something is broken into, out of, or strewn all over the floor you can bet your sweet sugar Kimber was somehow involved, and by somehow involved I mean that she definitely did it. She's still very much a puppy and it comes with the territory. It doesn't happen much anymore, but that's only because I had to get a lot smarter. You will also find Hank somewhere close by wiggling because he LOVES to see his little sister in trouble. I can't say I blame him, really. My brother never got in trouble and I loved it when he did because I was not a tattletale and I usually got busted because someone tattled. Just sayin'.....
Hank was nowhere to be found this time which I found pretty strange, but there Kimber was... trying to sneak away head hung low. The cabinet's not that easy to get into unless someone leaves it ajar, so I figured sending a picture to Ben would be much more amusing than shaming her further. Besides, I reasoned, she was probably pretty upset to find that the containers were not full of food as she had hoped and she surprisingly enough didn't chew any up. Good Piggie as far as I was concerned.
I sent my picture message pleased with myself for having caught such a funny moment, only to have Ben call me a few minutes later to name the culprit. Kimber was not to blame. Oh, no. It was a far more devious creature that had dumped the contents of the shelf onto the floor... the ever elusive Oafus Amongus (aka Ben).
It's a really good thing I didn't punish the pig.... but then again, why was she in Full Shame Face? I'd better check the house again.
Electronics Hate Me
Last summer when Ben and I finally became roommates we had big plans for our 3 bedroom house. The front bedroom would be his office, and the back bedroom would be mine. I was also kind of hoping to get a traveling clinical research associate position so I could work out of the house, but that's a whole other story that really isn't that interesting. Point is, we were going to have dueling computers and it was going to be glorious.
We finally got internet and fired up my computer only to find out that nothing worked. Not one thing. At least we still had Ben's old eMachine (do they even make those anymore?), right? Wrong. His too would not start up. Black screen, weird DOS scripts running... pretty much the same thing mine did. So we did the only sensible thing - loaded up the CPUs and promptly went to see the Geek Squad. Turns out we both managed to fry our motherboards at EXACTLY the same time. I'm not real sure how that happened considering mine was slow but working in Austin and his was working fine where he lived 1 mile away from our new place of residence, but the damage was done and we were without internet access. Oh, the agony.
We broke down and bought a Dell laptop from Best Buy a few days later and so far it's been a pretty good little computer. Except that a couple of Mondays ago we broke it. Oh and I had two papers due along with some tests and did I mention that all my study guides and half of one of my papers were saved on the desktop? Talk about ridiculously inconvenient. Lucky for me I saved the paper down to Google documents. Just a little reformatting and I was back in business. This meant that I had to spend every waking moment at the university library waiting to use one of those nasty public computers to do my work while people finished up checking their Facebook status and World of Warcraft games. Annoying.
After I got through the brunt of my schoolwork and tests, I called up Dell only to find out the computer is still in Best Buy's name and we had to register it to us. Of course the lady told me you had to do it on the internet and I had to explain to her again that I couldn't get on the internet because my computer was broken. No worries, we can do it over the phone and it would take 5-7 business days before she could actually help me fix it. Fan-freaking-tastic. I spent another week at the library (and even spent my whole weekend there) and finally reached my breaking point. Back to Best Buy - I needed the Geek Squad.
I explained to the geek er, guy that I was probably capable of doing a full system reset, I just needed to know which CD to put in the drive (Brown, Black, or Black). That's all I wanted from Dell too, but they couldn't talk to me for another few days and I needed my computer WEEKS AGO. The guy pointed out the right one and got me started, then told me I had to push a certain button on the screen to start the process. He would have done the whole thing for me, but then he'd have to charge me. Sometimes the whole damsel in distress thing works out, sometimes it doesn't. He at least let me go on about my business pointed in the right direction. Did I get it done right? Absofreakinglutely not. I managed to delete everything as planned, but I also kicked off the wireless modem and all networking capabilities, thus rendering my computer completely useless. This story has a good ending... trust me.
My dear friend Kim's husband Marc works on computers for the Navy and thank goodness they offered to help! She went out of her way to meet me twice for the hand-offs and Marc got it fixed overnight. It now runs faster than ever and I have full internet capability. We owe them big. Now if I could fix my flat iron....
We finally got internet and fired up my computer only to find out that nothing worked. Not one thing. At least we still had Ben's old eMachine (do they even make those anymore?), right? Wrong. His too would not start up. Black screen, weird DOS scripts running... pretty much the same thing mine did. So we did the only sensible thing - loaded up the CPUs and promptly went to see the Geek Squad. Turns out we both managed to fry our motherboards at EXACTLY the same time. I'm not real sure how that happened considering mine was slow but working in Austin and his was working fine where he lived 1 mile away from our new place of residence, but the damage was done and we were without internet access. Oh, the agony.
We broke down and bought a Dell laptop from Best Buy a few days later and so far it's been a pretty good little computer. Except that a couple of Mondays ago we broke it. Oh and I had two papers due along with some tests and did I mention that all my study guides and half of one of my papers were saved on the desktop? Talk about ridiculously inconvenient. Lucky for me I saved the paper down to Google documents. Just a little reformatting and I was back in business. This meant that I had to spend every waking moment at the university library waiting to use one of those nasty public computers to do my work while people finished up checking their Facebook status and World of Warcraft games. Annoying.
After I got through the brunt of my schoolwork and tests, I called up Dell only to find out the computer is still in Best Buy's name and we had to register it to us. Of course the lady told me you had to do it on the internet and I had to explain to her again that I couldn't get on the internet because my computer was broken. No worries, we can do it over the phone and it would take 5-7 business days before she could actually help me fix it. Fan-freaking-tastic. I spent another week at the library (and even spent my whole weekend there) and finally reached my breaking point. Back to Best Buy - I needed the Geek Squad.
I explained to the geek er, guy that I was probably capable of doing a full system reset, I just needed to know which CD to put in the drive (Brown, Black, or Black). That's all I wanted from Dell too, but they couldn't talk to me for another few days and I needed my computer WEEKS AGO. The guy pointed out the right one and got me started, then told me I had to push a certain button on the screen to start the process. He would have done the whole thing for me, but then he'd have to charge me. Sometimes the whole damsel in distress thing works out, sometimes it doesn't. He at least let me go on about my business pointed in the right direction. Did I get it done right? Absofreakinglutely not. I managed to delete everything as planned, but I also kicked off the wireless modem and all networking capabilities, thus rendering my computer completely useless. This story has a good ending... trust me.
My dear friend Kim's husband Marc works on computers for the Navy and thank goodness they offered to help! She went out of her way to meet me twice for the hand-offs and Marc got it fixed overnight. It now runs faster than ever and I have full internet capability. We owe them big. Now if I could fix my flat iron....
Sunday, October 18, 2009
I'm Surrounded by Idiots
My poor left hand got burned today at the gas station. We went in to get Ben his usual Diet Coke on steroids and I decided since today has been so unbearably cold that I would grab a cappuccino while we were there. You should have seen all the different flavors! After careful deliberation, I decided MAX CAFFEINE XXX sounded the most exciting and proceeded to place my cup underneath and press the button. Unfortunately, MAX CAFFEINE XXX did not come out of that machine.
What did come out was a blast of scalding hot water through the front and definitely not out of the nozzle I pressed directly onto my left hand that was holding my cup in place. I squealed and pulled my hand out as fast as I could, but not fast enough not to get burned. Ben ran over and was immediately sympathetic, but then the guy gene took over and he HAD to try it for himself. Everyone knows females are not capable of working cappuccino machines - it's a flaw of our kind. That and weak arms. I told him what happened and he said things along the lines of, "Now are you SURE you put the cup under THAT nozzle?" and "I'm really not sure you know how to do this." "Here, let me try." Of course! I must have put my cup under the nozzle way over THERE and burned myself out of pure stupidity. It couldn't possibly have been the machine!
Ben snatched the cup out of my hand and held it right up against the same nozzle I just tried only closer. Five seconds later, Ben had a matching burn and I was giggling maniacally. Turns out the other gas station attendant was cleaning the machine but did the first guy who watched the WHOLE thing go down tell us? Of course not. He sat and stared and let it happen.... twice.
At least he gave us a discount when we finally did get coffee out of that stupid machine. It was the least he could do.
What did come out was a blast of scalding hot water through the front and definitely not out of the nozzle I pressed directly onto my left hand that was holding my cup in place. I squealed and pulled my hand out as fast as I could, but not fast enough not to get burned. Ben ran over and was immediately sympathetic, but then the guy gene took over and he HAD to try it for himself. Everyone knows females are not capable of working cappuccino machines - it's a flaw of our kind. That and weak arms. I told him what happened and he said things along the lines of, "Now are you SURE you put the cup under THAT nozzle?" and "I'm really not sure you know how to do this." "Here, let me try." Of course! I must have put my cup under the nozzle way over THERE and burned myself out of pure stupidity. It couldn't possibly have been the machine!
Ben snatched the cup out of my hand and held it right up against the same nozzle I just tried only closer. Five seconds later, Ben had a matching burn and I was giggling maniacally. Turns out the other gas station attendant was cleaning the machine but did the first guy who watched the WHOLE thing go down tell us? Of course not. He sat and stared and let it happen.... twice.
At least he gave us a discount when we finally did get coffee out of that stupid machine. It was the least he could do.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Honesty: Not Always the Best Policy
Today I got my hair done. It has been 6 months since I last got it highlighted because we moved and it took me that long to get a good recommendation. The salon was amazing - industrial, trendy, and full of gay men. Completely out of place in this town and right up my alley. I'm really missing Austin, TX these days.
The girl who did my hair is great at what she does, but my hair was not cooperating and we ended up switching my part around so many times that it ended up a big mess. She ended up cutting bangs and today I am not happy with it, but if you had seen how much work went into this, you would totally understand why she had to do it. It will grow back, but I have a feeling there's a looong awkward phase coming. At least the color is perfect.
Let's go back about 6-7 years. I took Ben home for the first time and of course both my parents in their separate homes had pictures of me up everywhere from high school back. Ben, being the most honest person I know, took one look at them and said, "You were ugly in high school with those bangs. No way I would have dated you then." I'm not real sure how anyone is supposed to take that, but he meant it as a compliment to how I looked then. At least that's his story and he's sticking to it.
Fast forward to tonight. I came home and asked if he liked my hair. I wanted his honest opinion and do you know what he said? "Your hair looks like it was in high school." A simple "No" would have done just fine. Did I mention he was honest?
I think I'll hide out for awhile. Apparently I'm quite ugly again.
The girl who did my hair is great at what she does, but my hair was not cooperating and we ended up switching my part around so many times that it ended up a big mess. She ended up cutting bangs and today I am not happy with it, but if you had seen how much work went into this, you would totally understand why she had to do it. It will grow back, but I have a feeling there's a looong awkward phase coming. At least the color is perfect.
Let's go back about 6-7 years. I took Ben home for the first time and of course both my parents in their separate homes had pictures of me up everywhere from high school back. Ben, being the most honest person I know, took one look at them and said, "You were ugly in high school with those bangs. No way I would have dated you then." I'm not real sure how anyone is supposed to take that, but he meant it as a compliment to how I looked then. At least that's his story and he's sticking to it.
Fast forward to tonight. I came home and asked if he liked my hair. I wanted his honest opinion and do you know what he said? "Your hair looks like it was in high school." A simple "No" would have done just fine. Did I mention he was honest?
I think I'll hide out for awhile. Apparently I'm quite ugly again.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
I Need a Breast
Did you know that on the East Coast they have two days off every fall BEFORE Thanksgiving?! They call it Fall Break and apparently this is completely normal. I am the weird kid for never having heard of it, but you know what East Coast? I don't care. This is amazing news. Even more amazing is the fact that my nursing profs canceled classes for the whole week. The catch is we have a lot of papers and projects due, plus some upcoming exams. Either way, I was able to afford a whole weekend of no nursing school-related reading. A whole weekend! I really needed that.
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and in light of that, we have been talking a lot about the Ta-Ta's. In health assessment we went over and over abnormal findings and the importance of self-screening. 1 in 9 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in their lifetime. Pretty scary statistics, eh?
Two hours of nonstop talk about boobs (complete with pictures) apparently got into my prof's head, because at about the halfway point when we normally take a potty break she announced, "Anyone need a breast?!" Best Freudian slip all year.
I know exactly how she feels. Thank goodness for Fall Break.
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and in light of that, we have been talking a lot about the Ta-Ta's. In health assessment we went over and over abnormal findings and the importance of self-screening. 1 in 9 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in their lifetime. Pretty scary statistics, eh?
Two hours of nonstop talk about boobs (complete with pictures) apparently got into my prof's head, because at about the halfway point when we normally take a potty break she announced, "Anyone need a breast?!" Best Freudian slip all year.
I know exactly how she feels. Thank goodness for Fall Break.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Might as Well be a Purse Dog
I'm really not one of those people who likes to dress up her dogs unless it's a. Halloween or b. part of a game where we see if they play along or run away and pout. Most recently, Ben's been throwing a towel over Kimber's head and spinning her around to see if she gets disoriented, then we run and hide and see how long it takes her to get out, figure out where she is, and then find us. She loves it, but do me a favor and don't call PETA.
Lately we've been worried that Kimber will be very cold here once winter rolls around. Hank just snuggles up under his blanket, but I don't think Kimber quite grasps the concept. She always looks a bit freaked out when I cover her up and then wiggles her way out a few minutes later. We decided she might like a sweater since she prances around the house when we put an old tshirt on her (one of those silly games again). I found a nice fleece one made just for dogs, but there's just one problem: it's pink. Baby pink even.
Now I know what you're thinking. Yes, she has a hot pink collar. She also has a pink leash. I will explain all of this in due time. Kimber has a hot pink collar because she is the biggest ridgeback anyone has ever seen and everyone thinks she's a dude. She's also been putting on some pretty serious muscle lately probably from chasing the little dogs around at the park, so really, I think a hot pink collar is more than appropriate. She totally rocks it and it even has her name and my phone number embroidered on it so we don't have to listen to jingling tags. We got Hank one too (in hunting dog orange) and no longer have naked dogs running around. I really don't like it when they don't wear their collars, especially Hank. When he gets spooked in the driveway and refuses to run to the side yard to use the bathroom, all I have to do is barely touch his collar and he nuts up and runs out there. When he's naked I have to carry him, and he's fat. Best. Investment. Ever.
Kimber has a pink leash because a few years back my aunt got her first dog (a female) and sent Hank and I a care package full of toys and also a pink leash. You know how kids get their first dog and it's a girl so they think every dog is a girl? I think her thought process ran along the same lines, only in her defense she lives in Alaska and had only seen a picture of Hank. I'm not real sure what that says about his masculinity, but whatever. For some strange reason I hung on to that leash and moved with it 3-4 times, adament that I would find someone who could use it since I have only had male dogs and intended to maintain the status quo, but now I'm glad I had it. I only had one leash for Hank and when Kimber moved in, it came in quite handy.
The sweater? It's pink because pink was on sale for $20 less than the other colors. I'm cheap - bite me. She'll be wearing that in the house only anyway.
I've tried so hard not to have a frilly dog, but poor Kimber has a pink collar, a pink leash, and now a pink sweater. Maybe it's time we got her some rhinestones and painted her toenails. Ridiculous.
Lately we've been worried that Kimber will be very cold here once winter rolls around. Hank just snuggles up under his blanket, but I don't think Kimber quite grasps the concept. She always looks a bit freaked out when I cover her up and then wiggles her way out a few minutes later. We decided she might like a sweater since she prances around the house when we put an old tshirt on her (one of those silly games again). I found a nice fleece one made just for dogs, but there's just one problem: it's pink. Baby pink even.
Now I know what you're thinking. Yes, she has a hot pink collar. She also has a pink leash. I will explain all of this in due time. Kimber has a hot pink collar because she is the biggest ridgeback anyone has ever seen and everyone thinks she's a dude. She's also been putting on some pretty serious muscle lately probably from chasing the little dogs around at the park, so really, I think a hot pink collar is more than appropriate. She totally rocks it and it even has her name and my phone number embroidered on it so we don't have to listen to jingling tags. We got Hank one too (in hunting dog orange) and no longer have naked dogs running around. I really don't like it when they don't wear their collars, especially Hank. When he gets spooked in the driveway and refuses to run to the side yard to use the bathroom, all I have to do is barely touch his collar and he nuts up and runs out there. When he's naked I have to carry him, and he's fat. Best. Investment. Ever.
Kimber has a pink leash because a few years back my aunt got her first dog (a female) and sent Hank and I a care package full of toys and also a pink leash. You know how kids get their first dog and it's a girl so they think every dog is a girl? I think her thought process ran along the same lines, only in her defense she lives in Alaska and had only seen a picture of Hank. I'm not real sure what that says about his masculinity, but whatever. For some strange reason I hung on to that leash and moved with it 3-4 times, adament that I would find someone who could use it since I have only had male dogs and intended to maintain the status quo, but now I'm glad I had it. I only had one leash for Hank and when Kimber moved in, it came in quite handy.
The sweater? It's pink because pink was on sale for $20 less than the other colors. I'm cheap - bite me. She'll be wearing that in the house only anyway.
I've tried so hard not to have a frilly dog, but poor Kimber has a pink collar, a pink leash, and now a pink sweater. Maybe it's time we got her some rhinestones and painted her toenails. Ridiculous.
Monday, October 5, 2009
The BBQ That Happened
About a month ago we took the dogs to the PETA park and met a guy named Richard. Richard has two ridgebacks and for the life of us we can't get them to play with Kimber and vice versa. They would much rather annoy others and run at full gallop chasing after the little dogs. This makes me very nervous because I'm always afraid she's going to trample one, but the other owners don't seem to mind. I like to look at it as cheap practice for lure coursing (see here).
Anyway, Richard got Ben really excited about building a meat smoker out of a steel barrel and they have been talking about it nonstop for weeks, emailing one another back and forth and researching, researching, researching. Ben has been running all over town collecting the pieces he needs and yesterday Richard invited us over to try some things he makes in his smoker. Now the guys will tell you this BBQ never happened. They are liars and are not to be trusted. This BBQ definitely happened and it did not end well for me.
Basically, the guys got caught up in conversation and left all the meat on waaaaaaay too long. The end result was charred bacon, black jalapenos, and a log of meat called a "fatty" that looked more like coal. Richard was embarrassed, but it was everyone's fault. Unfortunately, the bacon had lots of brown sugar and cayenne on it, so it still tasted pretty dang good and I ate it anyway. We pulled all the charred bacon off the stuffed jalapenos and ate those too. I had also made my famous jalapeno creamed corn and it was extra spicy and delicious, so add that to the mix. By the time we were done, we had pretty much built an atomic time bomb inside my stomach.... BUT WAIT!! Let's add a little more insult to injury. Ben wanted pizza for dinner and though he normally puts jalapenos on it, I stopped him and told him I had enough spices for the day. As I was finishing up some reading, he brought me a few slices, COVERED in cracked red pepper. There was nothing I could do about it at that point, so I shut up and ate it anyway. The end result was just awful. I spent a good 3 hours clutching my stomach, eating Tums, writhing in pain and making deals with God before I finally was able to puke it all up. I think that part hurt the worst, short lived as it was. My lips are still burning today.
So yes, they'll tell you that BBQ didn't happen. Next time I'm bringing a salad.
Anyway, Richard got Ben really excited about building a meat smoker out of a steel barrel and they have been talking about it nonstop for weeks, emailing one another back and forth and researching, researching, researching. Ben has been running all over town collecting the pieces he needs and yesterday Richard invited us over to try some things he makes in his smoker. Now the guys will tell you this BBQ never happened. They are liars and are not to be trusted. This BBQ definitely happened and it did not end well for me.
Basically, the guys got caught up in conversation and left all the meat on waaaaaaay too long. The end result was charred bacon, black jalapenos, and a log of meat called a "fatty" that looked more like coal. Richard was embarrassed, but it was everyone's fault. Unfortunately, the bacon had lots of brown sugar and cayenne on it, so it still tasted pretty dang good and I ate it anyway. We pulled all the charred bacon off the stuffed jalapenos and ate those too. I had also made my famous jalapeno creamed corn and it was extra spicy and delicious, so add that to the mix. By the time we were done, we had pretty much built an atomic time bomb inside my stomach.... BUT WAIT!! Let's add a little more insult to injury. Ben wanted pizza for dinner and though he normally puts jalapenos on it, I stopped him and told him I had enough spices for the day. As I was finishing up some reading, he brought me a few slices, COVERED in cracked red pepper. There was nothing I could do about it at that point, so I shut up and ate it anyway. The end result was just awful. I spent a good 3 hours clutching my stomach, eating Tums, writhing in pain and making deals with God before I finally was able to puke it all up. I think that part hurt the worst, short lived as it was. My lips are still burning today.
So yes, they'll tell you that BBQ didn't happen. Next time I'm bringing a salad.
Friday, October 2, 2009
95 Ad Nauseum
I'm stuck in a rut. A fantastic rut, but ridiculous nonetheless. In my 4-5 weeks of school I have taken 3 exams. On each of the 3 exams I have made the exact same grade. Don't get me wrong - I'm not complaining. These are some pretty rock solid A's, but honestly what are the odds and more importantly, can I keep this up for 2 years?
My previous relationship with school was not the best. I used it like a cheap fling to get me ahead in life and though I graduated with decent grades, it really didn't get me anywhere without solid aspirations. At times I thought business was my calling since I rocked out my minor without trying, but a brief stint in sales and 1.5 years in a cubicle farm cured that. I'm not capable of sitting still. Never have been. Maybe I have ADD and maybe I don't, but I will tell you one thing... I got spanked A LOT as a kid. I know I'm rambling off topic, but I feel a very necessary rant coming on. There was a recent study that came out that says spanking your children causes them to have lower IQs. I would believe beating your children would have that effect because abuse does all kinds of evil, but spanking them?! What the hell kind of study is that?
I really hope this rash of good grades continues. If not, I guess I can always blame my parents.
My previous relationship with school was not the best. I used it like a cheap fling to get me ahead in life and though I graduated with decent grades, it really didn't get me anywhere without solid aspirations. At times I thought business was my calling since I rocked out my minor without trying, but a brief stint in sales and 1.5 years in a cubicle farm cured that. I'm not capable of sitting still. Never have been. Maybe I have ADD and maybe I don't, but I will tell you one thing... I got spanked A LOT as a kid. I know I'm rambling off topic, but I feel a very necessary rant coming on. There was a recent study that came out that says spanking your children causes them to have lower IQs. I would believe beating your children would have that effect because abuse does all kinds of evil, but spanking them?! What the hell kind of study is that?
I really hope this rash of good grades continues. If not, I guess I can always blame my parents.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Turns Out I'm not Stupid
Last week I took my first nursing school exam in Gerontology. Internet, I'm happy to report to you that I made an A. This is huge for me.... usually I fail the first couple of tests and then magically pull something spectacular out of my butt at the very end. I'm not talking good enough to pass... I'm talking grand slam territory. My physics professor wasn't sure what to do with me for that very reason. I killed his final, but I never went to class. I was too busy staying up late making googly eyes at my new boyfriend who only had afternoon classes. I eventually married the guy so I'd say that it was worth it, but it got me a B on principle. I didn't say my method was perfect.
This time I did something new. It's called applying myself. I actually read the book ahead of time and studied a few days in advance. This is a totally foreign concept to me. I usually prefer the method mentioned above. Spectacular feats out of left field keep things much more interesting for everyone.
Now if I can just keep it up. Stay tuned.
This time I did something new. It's called applying myself. I actually read the book ahead of time and studied a few days in advance. This is a totally foreign concept to me. I usually prefer the method mentioned above. Spectacular feats out of left field keep things much more interesting for everyone.
Now if I can just keep it up. Stay tuned.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
My Husband is Annoying
I love this blog. There are so many things I can identify with, except my husband isn't a total slob. Favorites include The Pushover and Pots and Pans and Plates Oh My!!
myhusbandisannoying.com
She's only been married 6 months and she's histerical. They're going to be a hilariously cranky old couple much like us.
myhusbandisannoying.com
She's only been married 6 months and she's histerical. They're going to be a hilariously cranky old couple much like us.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
The End of Evil E?
My sister-in-law Elicia has played a pretty big role in my relationship with Ben. We met at Freebird's for dinner shortly after Ben and I started dating, and I remember thinking, "this girl's pretty funny, I hope she likes me." Also, "Holy crap. I can't believe Phil (now her husband) can eat a whole Monster all by himself in 10 minutes flat." For those of you who are not familiar with Freebird's, a Monster is comparable in size to half a salami and can feed a family of 4.
Elicia has been the one prodding Ben to let go of his bachelor ways and settle down with me. She's also hooked me up with some pretty sweet Christmas gifts. I appreciate all she's done for us and am really glad she's my sister-in-law.
Unfortunately for her, she's also pretty witty and has earned a reputation as "the evil one." After 6 1/2 years, I was pretty sure I had her all figured out. Ben was too, but then she got pregnant and all that changed. Here are the top 5 common misconceptions we had about her:
1. She did not eat her young (whew!).
2. Collossus Hippopotamus is NOT a funny name for a pregnant lady.... not even if she is your sister and would have thought it was hilarious before. Just for the record, I warned Ben about that. His response? EFF YOU, HORMONES!!!
3. Dodger has been demoted. He's no longer her child. He's (gasp!) just the dog.
4. Anyone heard of the term, Mommy Blogger? What ever happened to making fun of rude girls in Target who cut you in line to pay for their embarrassing hygiene products?
5. She is a total champ. She gave birth naturally to a kid with Phil's gigantor genes and didn't complain once about the pain that must have inflicted on her poor body. That takes some serious guts.
Motherhood has really changed her. We're so happy that she and Phil have a beautiful, healthy, daughter that they both wanted so badly and that everyone is adjusting and bonding well. Could this really be the end of Evil E? Ben is not convinced. She's so pretty on the outside.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Why I Hate the Commissary
We live literally a mile from the country's largest commissary, where food shopping is tax free, cheap, and and it actually resembles a real grocery store (unlike that Whiting Field wannabe). That one was pretty gross and it kept weird hours, so I never could take advantage of the savings. The Winn Dixie in town was even worse, so eating out was a pretty good option at the time.
Anyway, back on topic. NAS Norfolk has a HUGE commissary full of all kinds of goodies that are actually somewhat organized (you really had to know where we moved from to appreciate that), but since it is the largest, it is also the most packed. Only military personnel and their families are allowed to shop there, so logic would tell you that people would generally be pretty cordial toward one another since we're all part of a unique community and yadda yadda yadda, but you would be wrong. I have had better experiences with the general public at Wal-mart.
First of all, because we are a unique community, there are many unique challenges a lot of dependents have to face when braving the military-only facilities. Husbands deploy a lot, and this leaves a disproportionate number of "single" mothers left to wrangle their kids while taking care of the family shopping. If the average American family has 2.5 children, the average military family has 4.5 children. I'm exaggerating but sadly, not by much. Every one of these moms has a gaggle of children trailing behind her, a shopping cart overflowing with goods, and is usually followed by another cart pushed by a 3 foot tall kid trying to navigate through the store. She's meanwhile breastfeeding as she absentmindedly crashes her cart into the back of your heel, yelling at her other 2 kids, and complaining that her miniature cart-pusher can't keep up and is therefore NOT getting to pick out a toy. You have to feel for her. I'm sure the stress of having that many kids and your husband on a ship is phenomenal, however, slamming your cart into someone's heel and not apologizing or acknowledging the pain you have inflicted on them is flat out unforgivable.
Second, there is almost always a child screaming bloody murder somewhere in the store. Not crying.... SCREAMING. Today my blood pressure hit dangerous levels as this child screamed and screamed while BOTH parents walked calmly through the store pretending like their kid wasn't irritating the hell out of the other 150 people there. This went on for 45 minutes. 45!! I'm a rational person. I understand that small children have meltdowns. If you're by yourself and obviously trying to pacify your kid but have no other option, I'm probably going to throw a knowing smile your way. If you have someone there who can take the child outside and deal with it and instead choose not to parent, I'm going to shoot you the stink eye. That phase of your life ended the moment you peed on a stick and two lines appeared.
Third, do you know how many people park their carts side by side in the aisles and refuse to let anyone pass while they read through nutrition labels or compare pricing? Are you kidding me? There is nothing worse than getting blocked in (there is ALWAYS someone behind you) 2 feet from the item you were after on the shelf, waiting 10 minutes while the person in front of you discusses the fiber content of ice cream with the person beside them who is also blocking the aisle. If you're so concerned about being healthy.... ice cream ain't it, sweetheart.
It really makes Wal-mart feel like Nordstrom's on days like this. Maybe I'll get lucky and snap a few gems like these.
Anyway, back on topic. NAS Norfolk has a HUGE commissary full of all kinds of goodies that are actually somewhat organized (you really had to know where we moved from to appreciate that), but since it is the largest, it is also the most packed. Only military personnel and their families are allowed to shop there, so logic would tell you that people would generally be pretty cordial toward one another since we're all part of a unique community and yadda yadda yadda, but you would be wrong. I have had better experiences with the general public at Wal-mart.
First of all, because we are a unique community, there are many unique challenges a lot of dependents have to face when braving the military-only facilities. Husbands deploy a lot, and this leaves a disproportionate number of "single" mothers left to wrangle their kids while taking care of the family shopping. If the average American family has 2.5 children, the average military family has 4.5 children. I'm exaggerating but sadly, not by much. Every one of these moms has a gaggle of children trailing behind her, a shopping cart overflowing with goods, and is usually followed by another cart pushed by a 3 foot tall kid trying to navigate through the store. She's meanwhile breastfeeding as she absentmindedly crashes her cart into the back of your heel, yelling at her other 2 kids, and complaining that her miniature cart-pusher can't keep up and is therefore NOT getting to pick out a toy. You have to feel for her. I'm sure the stress of having that many kids and your husband on a ship is phenomenal, however, slamming your cart into someone's heel and not apologizing or acknowledging the pain you have inflicted on them is flat out unforgivable.
Second, there is almost always a child screaming bloody murder somewhere in the store. Not crying.... SCREAMING. Today my blood pressure hit dangerous levels as this child screamed and screamed while BOTH parents walked calmly through the store pretending like their kid wasn't irritating the hell out of the other 150 people there. This went on for 45 minutes. 45!! I'm a rational person. I understand that small children have meltdowns. If you're by yourself and obviously trying to pacify your kid but have no other option, I'm probably going to throw a knowing smile your way. If you have someone there who can take the child outside and deal with it and instead choose not to parent, I'm going to shoot you the stink eye. That phase of your life ended the moment you peed on a stick and two lines appeared.
Third, do you know how many people park their carts side by side in the aisles and refuse to let anyone pass while they read through nutrition labels or compare pricing? Are you kidding me? There is nothing worse than getting blocked in (there is ALWAYS someone behind you) 2 feet from the item you were after on the shelf, waiting 10 minutes while the person in front of you discusses the fiber content of ice cream with the person beside them who is also blocking the aisle. If you're so concerned about being healthy.... ice cream ain't it, sweetheart.
It really makes Wal-mart feel like Nordstrom's on days like this. Maybe I'll get lucky and snap a few gems like these.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
It's an Epidemic
Today my dear friend Alyson lifted up the side of her shirt and revealed some very familiar-looking red bumps. Red bumps that appeared on my body just a week or so ago and burn like the devil. Shingles?! At least I'm not the only one having a phsiologic reaction to nursing school stress. It's funny - I haven't felt overwhelmed at all, but the body has a weird way of giving you insight to your subconscious. Stupid body. WHY WON'T YOU JUST LET ME LIE TO MYSELF?
Mine seem to be subsiding a bit since I have been careful not to irritate them, and I still haven't gone to the doctor because government-run health care is so painfully inefficient that it's just not worth my time or the headache. Also, they really screwed me over on my nursing school physical and I'm still mad about that, so I'm pretty sure I'm just going to wait this one out and switch doctors ASAP. It's been a fairly mild case and I'm WAY too self-conscious to fill a prescription for Valtrex anyway. Fun fact: When you get a prescription at a Navy medical institution, every time you show up for an appointment they hand you a list with everything they have ever issued to you and you mark what you are currently taking. I can't face seeing an obsolete Valtrex prescription EVERY DANG TIME for the rest of my life knowing that the corpsman that handed me the sheet has seen my shame. I'd die.
I know this is fairly common - I get it.... but I can't shake the feeling that there would be some 19 year old corpsman fresh out of Great Lakes who would see that on my sheet when I'm old and weathered, assume I have herpes, and wonder, "Who the heck would do THAT with HER?!"
Mine seem to be subsiding a bit since I have been careful not to irritate them, and I still haven't gone to the doctor because government-run health care is so painfully inefficient that it's just not worth my time or the headache. Also, they really screwed me over on my nursing school physical and I'm still mad about that, so I'm pretty sure I'm just going to wait this one out and switch doctors ASAP. It's been a fairly mild case and I'm WAY too self-conscious to fill a prescription for Valtrex anyway. Fun fact: When you get a prescription at a Navy medical institution, every time you show up for an appointment they hand you a list with everything they have ever issued to you and you mark what you are currently taking. I can't face seeing an obsolete Valtrex prescription EVERY DANG TIME for the rest of my life knowing that the corpsman that handed me the sheet has seen my shame. I'd die.
I know this is fairly common - I get it.... but I can't shake the feeling that there would be some 19 year old corpsman fresh out of Great Lakes who would see that on my sheet when I'm old and weathered, assume I have herpes, and wonder, "Who the heck would do THAT with HER?!"
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Feeling Uninspired
I feel like my blog started out on the right foot. Make fun of myself - check. Make fun of Ben - check. Make fun of both dogs - check and check. I even got a sideways jab in at my brother and parents. Calm down, they deserved it. Lately though, it seems I have run out of family members to tease and my blog has fallen into "the novelty has worn off" category. Before you go getting all crazy with thoughts like, "Hey Chelley, maybe it's time you and Ben got on that and started having kids" let me stop you right there. Not happening anytime soon so you would be better off not mentioning it to me because I might explode. It's only been a year and 4 months, people. We're not about to go inserting little clones into a perfectly good marriage just for the sake of shaking things up. At the very least not on purpose. I do however realize that some day I may change my mind and my blog will turn into a homage to the love I have for my children and you will all naturally be very happy for me but then sad that all I post about are my child's bowel movements instead of Hank's. It's ok to mourn when that day comes. I'll be right there with you.
Interestingly enough, I was putting some things away and came across my Senior Memories Book from high school. It's basically a scrapbook that serves the same purpose as a yearbook but I HAD to have it because high school was just that important to me even though I really didn't like it much. I knew there were bigger things in store for me than Willis, TX could provide. In it I wrote down my dreams, goals, and included pictures of my friends and all those boys I was so in love with from freshman year on. What's my point? I honestly believed until the moment I opened that book today that when I left high school I was very pro children. There, in my own handwriting:
Family: Probably not.
My 17 year old self was very wise despite her all her innocence. Let that sink in for a moment. At 17 I subconsciously made and put in writing a decision that would continue to be right for me 9 years later as a completely different person with a whole set of experiences that went the opposite way I had planned. I really should have listened to her more.
Then again, that super wise and oh so skinny girl was a band nerd. Those geeks are crazy.
Interestingly enough, I was putting some things away and came across my Senior Memories Book from high school. It's basically a scrapbook that serves the same purpose as a yearbook but I HAD to have it because high school was just that important to me even though I really didn't like it much. I knew there were bigger things in store for me than Willis, TX could provide. In it I wrote down my dreams, goals, and included pictures of my friends and all those boys I was so in love with from freshman year on. What's my point? I honestly believed until the moment I opened that book today that when I left high school I was very pro children. There, in my own handwriting:Family: Probably not.
My 17 year old self was very wise despite her all her innocence. Let that sink in for a moment. At 17 I subconsciously made and put in writing a decision that would continue to be right for me 9 years later as a completely different person with a whole set of experiences that went the opposite way I had planned. I really should have listened to her more.
Then again, that super wise and oh so skinny girl was a band nerd. Those geeks are crazy.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Shingles..... maybe.
Ever since I started regaining interest in the medical field, I find that more and more often I self-diagnose at the very first sign of anything. It's a sickness I can't control because of a wonderful invention called the internet where you can look up anything and instantly feel like an expert. Also, I want to be knowledgeable since I'm in nursing school and will probably see these things a lot. Later on when my brother says nurses are stupid, ugly, retards whose only purpose in the hospital is to clean up poop (HE REALLY SAID THAT) I can challenge him and make him feel like the jackass he acts like sometimes. Sibling rivalry at it's finest.
Lately I have had these little red bumps appear just below my chest on the left side of my body. They started out as one and soon became 5. I'm guessing by Monday I'm going to have at least 10. Behold:
Ben at first said that he thought it looked a lot like shingles (he got them at age 24), but then tried to take it back because he knows exactly who he's dealing with and what I would do with such information. About 5 seconds later I had pulled up pictures on my iPhone and spent the next half hour scrutinizing myself in the mirror to compare and so far I fit the mold exactly. I love technology.
A few things about shingles for those of you who may be thinking I am sharing something super embarrassing. Shingles is a condition where the nerve endings on one side of your body blister and get inflamed. They are an after effect of the chicken pox and the condition lies dormant in your system most of your life. It pops out when you have suppressed immunity or are under a lot of stress, but in most cases it strikes in your late 70's. Supposedly only 1% of the population gets this at our age. What are the odds that both me and my husband are in that 1%? I'm guessing it's pretty good since I laughed and made fun of Ben for getting a geriatric disease and having to take herpes medicine to cure it.
I suppose scolding my mom for purposefully exposing me to the chicken pox is out of the question. Karma is out for blood.
Lately I have had these little red bumps appear just below my chest on the left side of my body. They started out as one and soon became 5. I'm guessing by Monday I'm going to have at least 10. Behold:
Ben at first said that he thought it looked a lot like shingles (he got them at age 24), but then tried to take it back because he knows exactly who he's dealing with and what I would do with such information. About 5 seconds later I had pulled up pictures on my iPhone and spent the next half hour scrutinizing myself in the mirror to compare and so far I fit the mold exactly. I love technology.
A few things about shingles for those of you who may be thinking I am sharing something super embarrassing. Shingles is a condition where the nerve endings on one side of your body blister and get inflamed. They are an after effect of the chicken pox and the condition lies dormant in your system most of your life. It pops out when you have suppressed immunity or are under a lot of stress, but in most cases it strikes in your late 70's. Supposedly only 1% of the population gets this at our age. What are the odds that both me and my husband are in that 1%? I'm guessing it's pretty good since I laughed and made fun of Ben for getting a geriatric disease and having to take herpes medicine to cure it.
I suppose scolding my mom for purposefully exposing me to the chicken pox is out of the question. Karma is out for blood.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Earning Her Keep
Ben's always complaining that our dogs are worthless and need to earn their keep. Hank's been newly appointed as the Monkey Butler and is expected to get his lazy butt off the bed and greet us when we come home, but Kimber gets crated. She would love to take on Piggy Butler duties, but we're not willing to replace the burber carpet she keeps pulling up when we leave her out. Darn separation anxiety.
Every time I open up the front door to go downstairs and get the mail, Kimber follows me all the way down and back up just in case I pull a fast one. You never know when I might sneak away and never come back. The other day we got a bunch of junk mail, so I decided I'd see if she would carry it. She did it all too happily, but then tried to run off with it I assume to tear it to pieces. Kimber loves getting into paper. With a few treats and lots of encouragement, she actually picked up what she was supposed to be doing pretty quickly and hands it over as soon as she gets in the door. Meet our new Mail Dog!
Monday, September 7, 2009
Rock 'n Roll Half Marathon
Yesterday I helped out at one of the medical tents at the Virginia Beach Rock 'n Roll Half Marathon. Our tent was just past the finish line on the beach. Pretty sweet gig for a nursing student of only 5 days. I really wanted to help with those who were overheated or in big trouble since my goal for the moment is to become an ER/Trauma nurse, but I overlooked one minor detail. Since we were on the beach, I wore flip flops. People who have just run 13.1 miles puke. Puke + Flip Flops = Disaster.
I instead opted to work with a local podiatrist helping those who had destroyed their feet and I also did some minor first aid cleaning and dressing wounds for people who had pretty bad road rash. As it turns out, the podiatrist did his residency with the guy who did my bunion surgery back in College Station, TX. Small world. He finished up the year before my surgery, and I'm actually pretty good with that considering at the time Dr. Liesten's resident was hands down the hottest med student I had ever seen. Don't judge me - I was 21 and just about to go under the knife only to spend my spring break on my mom's couch and not helicopter skiing in the Alps. Hot med students can be very comforting when you are facing that kind of peril.
The half marathon went well and we didn't have anyone who got too seriously injured. Most people who pass out get better after about 20 minutes of ice and rest. We did entertain ourselves by telling those people they won just to see what their reaction was. It's not near as fun as it sounds. When you wake up and find yourself in a medical tent surrounded by strangers telling you that you won while giggling and trying to stifle their laughs, you could really give a crap. Sounds reasonable.
A few words to the wise: Train before you decide to run 13.1 miles in public amongst a herd of people. Get good shoes and synthetic socks. Pay lots of money for them. Bananas and carbs are your friends in the days leading up to the race. Puke happens. So does passing out. Don't do both on the idiot who wore flip flops.
I instead opted to work with a local podiatrist helping those who had destroyed their feet and I also did some minor first aid cleaning and dressing wounds for people who had pretty bad road rash. As it turns out, the podiatrist did his residency with the guy who did my bunion surgery back in College Station, TX. Small world. He finished up the year before my surgery, and I'm actually pretty good with that considering at the time Dr. Liesten's resident was hands down the hottest med student I had ever seen. Don't judge me - I was 21 and just about to go under the knife only to spend my spring break on my mom's couch and not helicopter skiing in the Alps. Hot med students can be very comforting when you are facing that kind of peril.
The half marathon went well and we didn't have anyone who got too seriously injured. Most people who pass out get better after about 20 minutes of ice and rest. We did entertain ourselves by telling those people they won just to see what their reaction was. It's not near as fun as it sounds. When you wake up and find yourself in a medical tent surrounded by strangers telling you that you won while giggling and trying to stifle their laughs, you could really give a crap. Sounds reasonable.
A few words to the wise: Train before you decide to run 13.1 miles in public amongst a herd of people. Get good shoes and synthetic socks. Pay lots of money for them. Bananas and carbs are your friends in the days leading up to the race. Puke happens. So does passing out. Don't do both on the idiot who wore flip flops.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Uncle Ben
Ben's sister Elicia gave birth to a beautiful baby girl named Lily a couple of weeks ago and we could not be more excited to be Aunt Chelley and Uncle Ben. This weekend Ben got to go home for a couple of days to meet her and I have to admit I'm a bit jealous I couldn't make it. Bob's been doing a good job of sending me pictures and keeping me updated. I really hit the in-law jackpot.
The first thing Lily did upon meeting Uncle Ben was pee on him. I think I have a new partner in crime. Good job, kiddo. We're going to get along famously.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Not Dead, Just Lazy
This morning I thought Hank was dead.Hank and I have been roommates for well over 4 years now. To me, Hank is that once in a lifetime dog that I know I will love and miss and cry about long after he's gone. You might even say I knew Ben was "the one" the day I realized he loved Hank more than me, and call me crazy, but that just did it for me. That's how much I love that sad, skinny, scared sack of bones I took home all those years ago against the advice of my family and friends and who no one understood or even liked for months until he came out of his shell and started showing off his hilarious side. When I'm 90 I'm sure I'm going to tell everyone who will listen to my crazy stories about that dog I had in my 20's when I was young and full of life, you know, before I got all saggy and bitter and old.
Hank learns and adapts to the general routine pretty well every time it changes, and believe you me, it has changed A LOT in the past 4 years from college to professional life to unemployment, and now back to college again. He likes to sleep in right up until the last possible second when he knows he has to get up and take care of business before I leave for the day. Today was the first time in a long time that I have gotten up before Ben, and Hank intended to stay in his bed until I was completely dressed and ready for school (makeup and all), then get up to go potty and maybe have a little breakfast, but only if I was offering it. Otherwise he was going to jump up into our bed for some snuggle time with Ben.
Kimber the hungries ridgeback just does not get it. Since the bathroom is not attached to the bedroom in this house, the second either of us leaves the room she's up and running around, sticking her cold, wet nose on the remaining person's back to remind them about that thing? You know breakfast? Is it time yet? Did Ben get up so he could give me breakfast? Where is he going? BREAKFAST? BREAKFAST? BREAKFAST? She would have you believe she would die of starvation if she ever skipped a meal. It's a ridgeback thing.
I decided to be proactive this morning and take both dogs out immediately, feed them, and then tuck them back in while I got a shower. Kimber popped right up, but Hank didn't move when I whispered his name. I tried again... nothing. This time I moved over to him and shook him a bit. Not one muscle moved. At this point I was starting to get nervous, so I started feeling his side for breath, but again there was no movement. I then checked his ears to see if they were still warm and hoped that the sensation would annoy him enough that he would pop up out of bed. No warmth, no response. Then the panic set in. I started slapping my hands across his side calling his name trying to get some sort of response, pushing and pulling and doing everything I could to wake him up and still I got nothing, and right there on the floor next to the bed, my heart stopped beating and I died. I fell over and I died and I somehow came back to life and this is at least the 3rd time this dog has gotten that exact reaction out of me. I'm not going to make it to 100 like the rest of my family.
Ben was starting to stir from all the noise I was making and that's when I told him, "Hank's not moving!!" Ben, not fully awake or aware of the situation was completely unconcerned.
Ben:"You mean like he won't get up?"
Me: "No... as in he's not alive."
That, dear friends, is how you get your husband to wake the hell up and pay attention. Ben jumped up and smacked Hank on the side and said, "Hank!" in his normal voice and only then did Hank's groggy little head start to slowly come out from under his blanket. Talk about a heart attack.
Perhaps Monkey is not the right name for him. I think I'll call him Sloth.
Monday, August 31, 2009
In Deep Doo-Doo
This is Hank, aka The Monkey. I call him Monkey because he loves bananas. Secretly, I also kind of thought it would be cool if he actually was a monkey. I would dress him up in a bow tie and tell people he was my monkey butler and everyone would laugh.
Sadly, today I got a taste of what it would actually be like to have a primate, minus the flinging part. Yes, Hank "The Monkey" Morton pooped in my house. Twice. While I was changing to take him on a walk so he could take care of said bodily function.
Ben got up really early this morning and took the dogs out around 5 a.m. At around 8 a.m., Hank was standing next to me letting out a quiet "woof!" to gently let me know that he needed something and would I please consider getting up? He's so sweet when he's trying to wake me. I love that about him. I got up, put on my shoes, and took the dogs down to the back yard, where to Hank's credit he started to go to the bathroom. He really tried, but as luck would have it, the next door neighbors started causing a ruckus and it scared the crap out of him (unfortunately, not in the literal sense) and he bolted for the door. I went back upstairs to put on acceptable clothes to walk him in, and that's when it happened. Oh. My. Hell. It was awful. I yelled and screamed and threw a huge fit. I finished, content in my rantings and ravings of a mad woman that I had scared him so badly he wouldn't even think of doing it again. Not 30 minutes later, I got out of the shower and guess what I found? MORE OF IT. MORE!!!
This time I grabbed him and rolled him on his back while I explained in no uncertain terms that he was a bad dog and this kind of thing will not be tolerated in my house. He's been pouting ever since.
Happy first day of nursing school to me. Isn't it a bit fitting that I would spend it cleaning up the bathroom emissions of the elderly?
Friday, August 28, 2009
Nursing School
Since one degree never seems to be enough these days, I've decided to go back for Round 2: Nursing School. Today was orientation and they said things to scare us with such phrases as, "You're going to work harder than you ever have in your life." and "This is going to be SO tough. We have the best program in the state of Virginia and we intend to keep it that way." but my favorite so far is "Come by my office. In it you will find a brandy snifter... and in that brandy snifter is... CHOCOLATE!!! LOTS AND LOTS OF CHOCOLATE!!!"
Apparently there is also a high incidence of twins if you should be so unfortunate as to get pregnant while in the nursing program at ODU (4 sets of twins in the past 18 months and there are probably only about 150 females to choose from). As they mentioned this to us, my friend Alyson leaned over and said something to the effect of, "Thank GOD my husband is in Iraq!" If there ever was an appropriate time to say such a thing, that was definitely it. As for me, I pulled out my purse just to make sure my dad hadn't managed to ninja his way up here to steal my birth control.
All in all, I'm feeling pretty good about this and am totally up for the challenge, at least for now. Ask me again in a week.
Apparently there is also a high incidence of twins if you should be so unfortunate as to get pregnant while in the nursing program at ODU (4 sets of twins in the past 18 months and there are probably only about 150 females to choose from). As they mentioned this to us, my friend Alyson leaned over and said something to the effect of, "Thank GOD my husband is in Iraq!" If there ever was an appropriate time to say such a thing, that was definitely it. As for me, I pulled out my purse just to make sure my dad hadn't managed to ninja his way up here to steal my birth control.
All in all, I'm feeling pretty good about this and am totally up for the challenge, at least for now. Ask me again in a week.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Sums up our Marriage
Let me first start by saying that I was warned. Earlier that day I pantsed Ben and it was glorious. He retaliated by letting me know that there was a prank somewhere in the house and I would just have to find it. Jackpot!
Monday, August 24, 2009
A Box of Puppies!
It seems like everyone I know is either pregnant or has just had their first child. While I love babies just as much as the next girl and am super excited about my beautiful new niece, I think most days I'd rather have the stork bring me one of these.
My parents are very disappointed in me.
My parents are very disappointed in me.
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