Welcome to my wonderful, terrible, soap opera sit-com world.

Sunday, July 31, 2005



... but I couldn't resist this very cute and very interesting little meme from the likes of the fabulous miz Andie Pandie.

This is a list of the quirky-turnons and quirky-turnoffs that I like in a man. You know, the little things they do or say that immediately make them look like someone I'd like to "get to know better." Of course, this applied a lot more before I was happily married, but I still have my moments of lust and drool. Who doesn't? So. What I Look For In A Man.

I am going to take this home-grown meme and add a twist to it. I am going to put in bold the things that Andie had in hers, that also apply to me. Then I am going to delete the things that did not apply to me, and add my own.

Quirky Ons:

* A guy who wears glasses.
* Facial hair especially a nice goatee. (added: but it has to be soft!)
* Hair on the chest
* A guy who revels in his geekiness.
* Bedhead.
* Banter and wit.
* Someone who will shake my hand and look me in the eye like I’m his buddy and not do the “soft shake” because I’m a chick.
* Holding a door open for me.
* Letting me sit down before he sits down.
* Bald or shaved head.
* Cooking.
* Voices (there are some voices I could listen to all day long.)
* Accents

* Short military haircuts.
* Men in uniform.
* Shiny black boots.
* A man who's not afraid to speak up and take control.
* Clingy T-shirts that show off your physique.
* The right pair of pants.

Quirky Offs.

* Guys who have long fingernails. (ouch!)
* Treating me like I’m fragile.
* Talking to me like I couldn’t possibly understand what you’re discussing.
* Not talking at all but just sitting there.
* Smoking.
* Pounding down the drinks.
* Being late.
* An uncared-for car.

* Pro sports fanaticism.
* Mama's boy.
* Sexual promiscuity with anyone other than me.
* Being too trendy.
* Wanting "to be seen" in "the right places".
* Ego.

Okay, so what are yours?

Rose typed all this stuff at 9:15 AM | #


Saturday, July 30, 2005



I went and picked up Mexican food for myself for dinner last night. After about 8pm, I decided I should write out menus for next week in prep for my grocery trip to the commissary on Sunday. One of the days is for beef tenderloin steaks with steamed zucchini and yellow squash, and "a big salad." With ranch dressing. I'll have a dinner guest that day.

I also started cleaning the office up (and am going to work on that some more right now). I have a few things that need to go back into the closet, a few new things that need to find room on shelves, and the like.

I colored my hair this morning, and it's pretty red. I decided it was time for a touch-up since I could see my roots.

I'm doing some laundry, taking special care with the Proud Air Force Wife shirts that I bought at Cafepress, designed by the very superly-awesome Snarkwife Stacy.

I need to hang some new art that I bought today, I'll have to take a picture and show you. And the cat is playing with his new crinkle bag and the dog is playing with his new crinkle um, cow. Yes, it crinkles. I promise.

It's 2:00pm and I really have no intention of working, so I'm considering making myself a white wine spritzer (I'm so 70's, y'all) and chilling out while I do all of this stuff.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. This is a really boring post. What else did I do today?

I went to the dollar store and came home with a new watering can for the garden, some plant fertilizer, and some flavored oils ("product of italy") that I can use when I marinate boring low fat foods for my very healthy diet which I love so much because I love it and If I Tell Myself That I Love It Then It Will Be Easier To Stay On.

I know there must be something else I did today.

Oh, yeah.

I spent about half an hour at the party store today. I bought a few things to decorate the house for that night next week when I have a dinner guest. A dinner party is always better with a theme, right?

What's the theme, you ask?

Well, one of the items I bought is a Welcome Home banner.

I'm just saying.

Rose typed all this stuff at 1:56 PM | #


Thursday, July 28, 2005



I'm kind of beside myself.

I've kind of been a rollercoaster of emotions lately and haven't had the time or energy to blog about them all here. But there's been one really pressing issue for me, and I just have to get it out.

It's about the friend I apologized to last week.

Everybody was so supportive and kind in all your thoughts and suggestions for how I should be handling it, and I'm very appreciative. But I've still been tied up in knots.

You see, here's the thing. I ran with a group of friends when I was younger, and you know, when you're in your early to mid 20's, you want to believe that you're beyond "high school" and that the people you have become close with in your "new adult life" are going to be the people that you will be with forever. That none of us are ever going to grow up any more than we are now, and that none of us are ever going to change, and that these bonds that we're making and growing into, that these people are going to be your friends for always.

And being 35 I can now tell you that it doesn't happen like that. But being 23-24-25, I certainly thought it was. All of us did.

First, group politics starts to set in when any group of friends has been together for long enough. A little at a time, I went from being one of the group's more popular kids and shining stars, to being pushed out little by little. New people come and everyone has their own special something. The longer something or someone has been around, the tarnish starts to set in. That was just a part of life, but at least I still had my "close friends."

Then, when I got married for the first time, it was like taking all of my friendships, fitting them with concrete booties, and sending them to the bottom of the river. My husband was an "outsider" in the group, many of my friends didn't like him and didn't understand why I did like him, and plus he was controlling and forceful, and I ended up sacrificing the remaining friendships I had. My first husband Tom thought that any man I was friends with I must have slept with, and if I hadn't slept with them then they all wanted in my pants, and he was very jealous, and just couldn't understand the (rather unique) group dynamic that was present in my "gang of friends." So I ended up leaving them all to go on with their lives, held on to yet a couple more close friends who were able to put up with Tom, and watched everyone move on in their lives.

Now, I'm in a weird situation. I am completely paranoid and for the most part untrusting, of the motives of any of the friends from the "old gang." There are exceptions, notably one old friend who I recently gave the URL of this blog to, since I had stumbled on her blog - fair trade - and I believe she won't share the URL with anyone else from my old group of friends (there are now 2 of them reading. Hi, C! Hi, L!). But anyway, for the most part, I don't hear from any of them. And if I do run into them, they look at me like I am an alien. I've been shunned. It's like, no one knows "how to connect with me" any more, and instead of trying, they'd rather just awkwardly stare at me across a room or write me off as having gotten old, fat and boring.

That's honestly how I feel.

I wouldn't go back in time and change the years I spent with those friends, not for anything. The experiences I shared with all of them did contribute to who I am today, and I love myself. But the pain of ... well, it's like this, this is why I haven't gone to any high school reunions, and won't. I don't want to bother spending time comparing my life path and my progress and myself with people who I haven't seen in 15 years, who don't even remember who I am, and couldn't give a shit less about me. So I'm starting to treat this old group of friends like a high school reunion.

Here's what makes it so hard.

Of the group of friends that I'm writing about right now, there are 5-10 of them who still (a) hang out all the time together, (b) are still close and social together, (c) do things together, (d) party together, (e) are in touch with each other regularly... well, imagine how much more of an outsider that would make someone like me feel. It's like for them, that stage of relationship building just never changed. So I can rationalize it all I want about having had reasons to move on, how people change and grow, how it's not bad that I took such a different path than they took... but somewhere, the traumatized, self-hating kid inside of me wants to wonder why I wasn't cool enough to hang with all of them, or why I wasn't a good enough addition to the group to be let back in when I came knocking at the door, which I did at various points in time, to try to reconnect with old friends.

I love my life. I am married to an amazing man. I own and run my own business. I'm going to get pregnant next year and be a mom. I see their lives -- many of the "core group" to which I refer are still single well into their 30's, never married, no kids, radomly dating, getting out on the weekends to hang out and drink beer, playing with computers and with cars... they might have six-figure jobs to make their lives easier, and the toys are more expensive than they used to be, and maybe they're drinking beer in Aspen, Colorado or in the backyard of their $300,000.00 house on the weekend instead of on the balcony of someone's one-bedroom apartment... but they're still hanging on to their mid-20's and doing mid-20's things, in a mid-30's scale.

I can't imagine doing that.

So now that I've gotten all of that out of my system, let me cut over to the parallel story of the friend to whom I apologized and asked forgiveness, who is NOT one of the "core group", who has moved to another state, who has created the life he wanted, who is married, with children, and doing all the grown-up things that grown-ups do. (I'm so happy for him that he got to do that.)

Well... he wrote back.

He was very kind in his reply. He was cordial. Short, but cordial. The email I sent to him was 95% apology and rehashing what I did and more apology, and even some more apology, plus a specific request for knowing whether or not he accepted my apology and whether or not he could forgive me for what I did. It was 5% yeah, have my own business, congratulations on your new baby, we're going to try for a baby next year, Oklahoma, blah blah.

The reply I got back from him was 100% congratulations on trying for a baby later, sounds like everything's great for you, sorry this is so short, here's the project I'm working on, I'll keep in touch about when/where you can see the project when it's done, bye. And a winky-emoticon.

I know he's got 200,000 different things on his plate and after being freaked out all weekend that I hadn't heard back from him, I'm glad he took the time to reply. And I'm glad that he replied in a friendly way, and I'm operating under the assumption that because he was cordial in his reply I am supposed to interpret that as him having accepted my apology.

And I'll do that.

Now I just have to put a muzzle on that self-hating child that sits in the back of my head... and reminds me that what I did was just enough to make sure I was pushed out of his world, probably forever. And it's not going to matter how many times I try to knock at the door and get let back into the exclusive club. It's not going to happen.

It could be worse. He could hate me, and he doesn't. He could be one of those people from my past who sits on their high horse and judges everybody else's success or failure, how much hair they've lost, how much weight they've gained, whether or not they "measure up" to whatever the standard is. And he's not.

It's just another social casualty. I wish John Mayer had been around making music 10 years ago instead of 2 years ago. My stupid mouth has got me in trouble. I said too much again. Oh, another social casualty. Score one more for me. How could I forget, mama said, 'think before speaking.' No filter in my head. What's a boy to do? Guess I better find one soon.

See, if I had that kind of advice back then, I might not be where I am now. At least we'd just have drifted apart through no fault of my own.

I'm far too sad about this, now. I should probably just get back to work. Spanish, money, work, work, work, work, work. I'd rather be numb.

Besides. It appears that once again it's just time for me to move on.

Rose typed all this stuff at 9:57 AM | #


Wednesday, July 27, 2005



If I had taken this quiz a few years ago I would have scored much higher. Somewhere along the line, the geek world started to get away from me.

My computer geek score is greater than 59% of all people in the world! How do you compare? Click here to find out!

(yanked with love from Margi.)

Rose typed all this stuff at 7:52 AM | #


Tuesday, July 26, 2005



Yes. That is a song lyric. Butt Trumpet. Check them out.

So anyway.

I am having a freaking MELTDOWN of massive, massive proportions.


This afternoon was a complete and total clusterfuck. I'm serious. I can't even comprehend how completely backwards today was.

And now? Me? I'm behind on work, and working, and it's almost 6pm, and I'm working, thank you, and I'm working.


I can't even BLOG about it right now, that's how completely sideways it makes me to even THINK ABOUT TODAY.


Rose typed all this stuff at 5:47 PM | #




I'm not gonna participate this year, as I have never participated, before.

But I'm going to donate this year, and I have never donated before.

Please, if you're looking for someone to sponsor, consider sponsoring Stale Betty, who is a fellow military wife. She and her husband are going to be doing some great, fun things for the blogathon, and they might have just picked one of the best charities I've seen.

Please give to those who have given everything.

Your donation will assist Iraqi war veterans and their dependents with educational support administered by the California Community Fund and provide needed physical and psychological treatment to returning veterans. This will be done in the name of SGT Evan Ashcraft who gave his life for his fellow soldiers - and for you.

Evan Ashcraft Memorial Foundation

Hop on over there, tell her Rose sent you, and pony up a few bucks for charity, would you?

And if you don't like Betty's charity, I'd ask you to pick someone working for the Blogathon, and do something nice for your fellow man this summer.


Rose typed all this stuff at 7:00 AM | #


Monday, July 25, 2005



Anyone still surfing with IE that has problems loading this blog? I've had a complaint that it's a black screen and never turns into anything else.

When I look at my blog in IE it does give a black screen for a moment, but then it manages to catch up and get all pretty again.

Anyone else having this problem?

Rose typed all this stuff at 11:24 AM | #




Work has SUCKED ASS.

Let me say that again, just in case I wasn't clear enough.

Work. Sucks. Much. Ass.

Here's the good and the bad about having skill at what you do:

You get picked first for the "hard stuff."

One of my clients, has a new client. So they went ahead, since I have a good track record of being able to decipher the difficult-to-transcribe, and put me on that account.

What does this mean to me?

This means that there's a woman dictating who will spell words like... "where. That's W-H-E-R-E, where." But then she will not spell names of doctors or names of attorneys or names of claimants. "This letter is on claimant Mondarikayafishnagle."

What the fuck? Mondarikayafishnagle? You'll spell "where" and "two" and "right, that's R-I-G-H-T" but you won't spell the name from hell? *sigh*

This particular lawyer also dictates her letters while she's reading from the doctor's file. So something that should read like this:

I am in receipt of subpoenaed records dated March 12, 1999 from Dr. Jones, which indicate the applicant presented with swelling in the left knee, headaches behind the right eye, a goober in her left nostril, and an ingrown toenail on the right lower extremity...

... comes out of her mouth like this:

I am in receipt of subpoenaed records 3/12/99 Dr. Jones, presents with swelling uh, I think that says the left uh, knee, and she has headaches, a goober in uh, wait, the headaches are behind her right eye. And a goober in her nostril, uh, looks like the left one. Right lower extremity toenail, ingrown.

Shoot me.

This particular attorney also has a very, very, very bad habit of dictating 20-30 letters on each tape, each about different cases, with no particular reference of anything, and she keeps turning the tape off and on and cutting herself off.

All of these wonderful features and more, contribute to me grinding my teeth and squinting and giving myself blinding headaches. So, I can only work on her for a little bit at a time. I seem to be getting "the hang of her," though, and found that the last six tapes (I had 12 in total) went by much quicker than the first six.


So today! I get to do! Spanish! And I am very! Excited!

(I make lots more money doing Spanish, too.)

In other news? Looks like S.'s return date is being pushed back to on or around August 24-25. That's okay though. I'm over the hump at least for now, and am feeling pretty okay. This gives me a chance to lose even more weight and get in better shape before he comes home. I can't believe it's only three months until our cruise. It seems like only yesterday I was totally freaking out about how far away it was.

I made the mistake of ordering "SEAFOOD SOUP" from the local Chinese joint the other day and I think the combination of what is probably gobs of MSG plus tons of salt has bloated me up like a pufferfish. I am trying to flush everything out of my system with copious amounts of water, crystal light, Diet Rite, and uh, fat-free chocolate espresso mochas. Yeah, that's the ticket. The soup, though? It was okay. For the havoc it's wreaked on my body, I don't think I'll do it again. I could suck on a boullion cube and get the same results, plus it'd probably taste better.

With regard to everybody's wonderful and thoughtful responses to my last post, thank you very much. I'm trying not to get too hung up on whether or not I hear back from my friend, and just focus on the fact that I have released my positive intent out into the world and have freed myself of the burden. That's all that matters. I've done what I can do to right things, whether or not he chooses to acknowledge them. And all will be right, at least in my world. Right? Right.

So I got a wonderful surprise from Jonny the other day in the mail! I had sent him some cilantro seeds from my garden plus a bunch of wellwishes that they sprout and give him many crops of wondderful cilantro. In return he sent me seeds for next year! Some Japanese peppers, Japanese cucumber, and Greek tomatoes! I had just been lamenting that I hadn't started a better, more appropriate container garden on our patio in the Spring. Now, come late Winter, I can truly get started! I am SO EXCITED about that! If you like food (especially exotic and/or international "ethnic" food) and gardening and the like, you should check out Jon's blog. It's fabbo and he's always got pictures. Of his garden, his meals, and even his hot self! Yes, he's a cutie patootie. I'm allowed to enjoy pictures!

I know I was going to blog about something else, but now I can't think of what it was. Let's see. Taking a mental inventory. I still want to eat Sushi. I need to color my hair again but I'm waiting until closer to when S. comes home. I need more coffee. I need to get started on work.

Okay, well, whatever my other important thing was, I just can't come up with it. I'll come back if it hits me.

Thanks everyone, for being, well, you. Sometimes I think y'all are the only thing that keeps me sane.

Rose typed all this stuff at 9:48 AM | #


Thursday, July 21, 2005



Today, I received a gift.

Years ago, I mean probably four or five years ago at least, I was at a fairly desperate time in my life. I felt alone, I felt unloved, I felt misunderstood. I felt lost.

And instead of finding a way to work through it, instead of finding a way to make it all right, instead of trying to be a grown-up at age 30 and really have a clue as to what made "me" tick and instead of being normal, I reached out to someone very dear to me, an old friend of mine, and ended up asking him to carry the weight of my world on his shoulders. I made heartfelt confessions, I rambled on, I e-mailed, I spewed out my thoughts and my emotions, just trying to make sense of all of it. And I ended up burdening him. Burdening him to the point that, the only way to free himself of the burden was to let things get back to the way they "had been," where we were out of touch the way old friends get, and out of sight became out of mind.

Over time, out of sight became out of mind for me also. And we grew even further apart, while growing up, becoming the people we were truly destined to be, learning how to be better human beings, learning how to be better people, and chasing our own dreams.

That is, of course, until I had a dream about him the other night. And I awoke feeling so sad, and so awful, and so terrible for the way I had handled myself when we were last in contact. I came, after some instrospection, to realize how poorly I had acted and how wrong it was to ask what I did of him.

So I tried to find him. To apologize.

Today, I got the chance to do that. I had sent out a little feeler, and was overjoyed to have him write me back. For some reason, he felt the need to apologize also... you see, he says, perhaps he should have told me how the situation affected him at the time instead of "dropping off the face of the earth." Even though it's what any normal person probably would have done under the circumstances.

I got to apologize. I got to tell him how sorry I was for the way I acted. I got to congratulate him on the birth of his first son. I got to ask his forgiveness. And even if we never find it in our hearts to be close friends again (I fear this will be the case, he lives across the country and has his own life, in his own world, and I now have my own life in my own world), at least I was given the gift of his time for the moment it would take him to read my apology.

People grow, and we change, we move up and we move on, we focus on our own dreams, wants and desires, and if we are worthy and willing, we receive all the blessings this life has to offer. This is just one of those blessings.

Tonight, I go to bed with a clean slate. And maybe, just maybe, if he shows up in my dreams again, I'll wake up with not remorse and pain and embarrassment in reflection, but the satisfaction of having seen an old friend.

I hope.

Rose typed all this stuff at 4:09 PM | #




This is only a drive-by, and for that I apologize.

1) I did 40 mins on the stationary bike on the "weight loss" setting, which is intervals and heart-rate training, on Level 6. Which was hard. But it's longer, and harder, than I've gone before.

2) Making your own makeshift organic fertilizer out of brewed tea/tea leaves, old coffee grounds, and wakame seaweed, is a stinky proposition.

3) I have a serrano pepper that's actually growing, and the banana pepper plant now has 3 peppers growing (knock on wood).

4) I haven't been to bed before 11pm any night this week, which is starting to seriously suck ass.

5) I have so much work I can't see straight, and I don't want to do it all.


Okay. Time for another mocha and to seriously hit these jobs. I'll get you, my pretties.

Rose typed all this stuff at 9:25 AM | #


Tuesday, July 19, 2005



Okay. So I'm running around the house with the "All-Cake Channel" on my Musicmatch Radio, and I'm blasting it as loud as I can. Thank god my subwoofer sits on my desk and not directly on the floor, or my downstairs neighbors would be ready to kill me.

I was up working until 11:30pm last night, and had an okay work day, and just received a big packet of tapes but I'm waiting for some collateral information I need before I can start the project. So, I'm taking this time to clean the house a little and try to get some things done.

Cleaning the kitchen, sipping on a latte, blaring music, cleaning around the office... avoiding laundry, of course, because I freaking hates doing me some laundry. HATE IT!! Thank God/dess I only have to do laundry for ME while he's gone!

Overall, I'm feeling pretty good. Thanks to everyone who's been checking in on me. I really appreciate it. I'm hanging in there. Had a little hormonal moment yesterday (thank you Maury and Kae for knocking my ass into shape about that) but I managed somehow to recover.

I've been burying myself in cruise planning (anybody want to talk about cruising?) and trying to figure out how I'm going to get my sister's birthday gift out to her in time since I let the month get away from me. I'm also trying to figure out what we're going to do if S. comes home a month early, and a way to feed my sushi addiction.

Apparently tonight I am going to a Homemade Gourmet party here at my apartment complex. So I guess I'll report back to you how that all goes. I figure it's a chance for a little free food and to maybe make a new acquaintance or two.

Jeez, this is very scattered.

I even had something else to post and now I don't remember what it was. Sigh.

Oh! I have to take some pictures of the garden... I actually have a serrano pepper growing! Yay! Technically I had four at one point, but only one has really "taken." I'm still thrilled.

The jalapeno plant keeps making peppers, but keeps dropping them. I put coffee grounds on the garden today, we'll see if that helps at all. It has two that are hanging on by a thread. I just need them to start growing and latch on good, and then I'll have jalapenos AND a serrano going by the time S. gets home! I already have another banana pepper (it's about 2" long) and two more that are taking hold. So I'm kind of excited about that.

I've been putting the teracotta pot up on top of the balcony railing so it gets a ton more sunlight... that's helping the sage plants really fill out and get a little more bushy and less stringy. That pot doesn't get direct sun every day, which is obviously a problem for sage. Mental note.

I wish I had something else coherent to type about. Whoops! There's the e-mail from my client with the templates I need, so I better go finish cleaning for now.

I promise. I'll write something more articulate and more entertaining, either later or tomorrow. Cross my heart.

Wet sloppy kisses to all.

Rose typed all this stuff at 10:30 AM | #


Saturday, July 16, 2005



Ever wanted to eat something so bad you dreamed about it? Yeah. Me. Cheeseburgers. Go figure.

I'm sure that's spurred on by the fact that I have lost 15 pounds.

Which you know, is another happy thing.

So let me get my thoughts all organized, instead of spewing out a bunch of lonely one-liners, and see if I can get a progress report out to all y'all.

*takes deep breath*

1) Met with Manic Witch and her hubby and their four lovely children the other day. They were in town visiting family and she hadn't been able to pull away to get with me for coffee, so instead I drove cross town to go hang out with them for a while at the Days Inn. They bought the pizza, I took my suit, and I officially drove farther by myself with only the help of Mapquest, than I have in the nearly one year since I've lived here in OKC. It was pretty fabbo, actually.

We had a great time talking and hanging out, and I even got my head wet in the pool. By the way... that's a lucky woman right there. Her hubby's got a very sex-ay George Clooney thing going on. Rawr. You go, girl.

There will be a picture, eventually, to prove I was actually there. It's just on her digital camera, which is now somewhere in Kansas.

2) Friday was an interesting day. Worked some, worked out some, did some basic accounting, a little house cleaning, weighed in (thus my new total weight loss figure), did some cruise dreaming as is standard, and got my nails painted a lovely combination shade of whore-red and a kind of purply-burgundy color, one coat of each. Hey, it looks cool.

Then I ordered myself a calzone from the place up the street. I ordered the calzone at 6:30pm. At 7pm, 7:30pm, 8:00, 8:30pm, and 9:00pm, I made calls to the pizza joint to ask them where in the name of everything holy and many things unholy, my calzone was. By then they assured me that it would be complimentary, and that it should be there any minute. Somehow, I managed to hold it together - I had a few cocktails waiting for my calzone to show up. Not to say that I'm an angry drunk or anything, but a drunk waiting on a pizza product should not be reckoned with. I still tipped the driver. Then I ate some, drank one more bevvie, followed by a big glass of water and a huge USAF-prescription Motrin, and poured myself into bed.

3) Today? I've done NOTHING! I haven't even gone anywhere. Which in its own twisted way sets off all my weird control-freak problems. But I do have a couple of Saturday updates.

a) Junior the Venus Flytrap caught a fly! This is a real fly. Not a miscellaneous bug off my little garden, or anything like that. He really, honest and for true, without any encouragement by me or any assistance, caught himself a real honest-to-goodness fly. That's enough to feed him for two weeks. And it gets even better when I tell you that I took that picture to e-mail to my husband, who named the plant Junior, and who truly appreciated a visual update of same.

b) I have confirmed that I have, in fact, taught Boomer to roll over. He's at least recognizing the words, "roll over" as meaning he has one particular thing that he is supposed to do when I say them. That's good and bad. Good because it means I hold supreme control over the furry creatures in my household. Bad because as a result, he follows me around wanting to roll over all the time in the hopes that I just happen to be holding a treat.

c) In speaking with hubby two times today (Yes! Two times! Yay!) I learned something that both makes me happy and makes me sad at the same time. His projected return date(s) are now EITHER August 25 (at which point we'd just ask that they bring him home after the 1st of September so we can receive another month's worth of the extra pay(s) that they get when they're supporting a forward location and separated from family) -- or -- August 2.

Yes, he might be coming home in two weeks.

That both thrills me and disappoints me. He's in a safe enough location and it's his first overseas TDY. So as much as I would love to have him back here in his bed, I don't want him to get "gypped" out of the experience. So I don't know what to hope for. I want him home, more than anything. But at the same time it just doesn't feel "long enough" that he will have been gone, if he comes home after only six weeks. A six-week overseas TDY is damn near unheard of. I don't want to burn off all my blessings. At that point they might as well keep him another month, especially if it means he won't have to pack up and go anywhere in a relatively short amount of time.

I don't know.

So now, I am trying to figure out what I want to do. I'm craving a burger but am not going to eat one. I have some Gimme Lean Sausage Flavor Soy Meat in the fridge with some large brown eggs, and could very well make myself some kind of breakfast for dinner. But I dunno about that, either. I also want sushi and don't have anyone that is available to eat it with me, and I don't want to drive across town alone to eat it. So there's that little problem.

Yes, my life is currently revolving around food. I have also watched all of my Netflix (most recently: Spanglish and Ocean's Twelve) which means I might spend the evening being all retro and shit, playing my Atari 2600 Conglomeration on the Playstation 2. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Yar's Revenge. Come to me, my pretty.

Besides. I can do that and have a beer. I couldn't have a beer when I was like, 10 years old playing on my Atari.

That might be the deciding factor, right there. Eggs and soy sausage, a beer, and Yar's Revenge.

Heaven on earth with an onion slice, y'all.

Rose typed all this stuff at 7:42 PM | #


Thursday, July 14, 2005



I'm officially going insane.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't claim to be too officially clinically tweaked out. I have my problems, everyone does. I've taken meds for them before, lots of people have.

But I am a control freak, which goes well beyond the boundaries of your basic, ordinary, everyday clinical psychosis.

When I am having control-freak fits, I act out in ways that can only be described as obssessive-compulsive.

Sometimes, it manifests itself as a bulimic episode.

Sometimes, it manifests itself as being a psycho cleaner. Not a germophobe, just a cleaner. Bathrooms. Kitchens. Everywhere, it seems, but my desk.

This week?

On Tuesday and Wednesday, it manifested itself as nail-filing. I had to file them down, they were getting a little bit long and it's hard for me to effectively type (and therefore, effectively make any money) when they're too long.

So, I filed them down. Then they were crooked, so I had to fix them. Then, they didn't all perfectly match, so I had to make sure they were all the same length. Then, I had to make sure they were all the same shape exactly, down to the roundness of the corners. This went on for two days at random intervals. Watching TV? Gotta get the nail file. Taking a typing break? Gotta get the nail file.

I even filed my dog's nails, for chrissake, even though for his nails I use a huge pedicure callous file and make enough dust that one would think I had operated a buzz saw. But I filed his nails. Three times. (It's easier for me to file them down than it is for me to clip them, as a single solitary person while S. is gone, thankyouverymuch.)

So. Nail filing.

Today? Nails? Looked great! Dog's claws? Looked pretty darned great, if I do say so myself. Kitchen? Clean as a whistle. Bathroom? Not OCD enough to tackle the bathroom.

So what should I do?

I know, I'll try to calm myself down.

So then what did I do today?

Had a control freak fit, about trying to control myself and not have a control freak fit.

So, I spent a good portion of the day, just freaking out in various and sundry ways. Bah. BAH, I say!

So now?

I'm gonna put the dog up, get my swimsuit, and go meet Manic Witch because she's in town. Gonna go hang out with her and her kiddos and her man for a little while. I understand there is a swimming pool and some pizza involved. So I will regale you with the tale, later.


Rose typed all this stuff at 5:39 PM | #


Tuesday, July 12, 2005



I'm just out-of-sorts.

It's not in a really funky depressed way. It's just ... out of sorts.

First, before I get all horked though, let me tell you a good story.

I ordered some T-shirts from Snarkwife Stacy's fabulous Cafepress store for AF wives. She also set one up for Army, Navy, and Marines. You can find the links on her sidebar.

But anyway.

They showed up.

Unfortunately for me, my gynormous rack did not fit in the "Jr. Raglan" that claimed it was suitable for a 44" bust. No. I do not have a 44" bust. I do, however, have a 40" bust. And I wasn't going to risk ruining the shirt and the design on it, to cram my ample bosom into what was supposed to be a "stretchy, form-fitting shirt."

So! I called Cafepress to upgrade my Jr. Raglan to a men's baseball jersey. And when I did so, I asked the operator how I was supposed to send the other shirt back to them, would she give me an RMA number or something. She told me that she is very proud of all our guys/gals in the active-duty military and she knows some military families herself, and as best as she can tell I probably have some friends locally that are also, Proud Air Force Wives. And that I should hang on to the shirt and pay it forward by giving it to someone who will wear it with pride and joy. And that she'd have my new shirt expedited to me.

So I am going to do just that. And I do have a very cool shirt. Whee!

Now, the other things that are frustrating me.

What isn't frustrating me? Let's be realistic.

The lovely Aunt Flow has taken up residence in my apartment, which means my weight loss was cut short this week and it totally frosts my ass. So now I am trying to make up the difference, which TOTALLY SUCKS BALLS.

I am undersexed. I would say that sucks balls, but you know, then I'll get all excited thinking about sucking balls.

There's a wasp building a nest on my balcony. Fucker.

I didn't get as much work done yesterday as I really needed to do. So now what am I doing? Blogging and putting off getting more work done. I know, I'm an idiot. But I really need to try to get caught up on some work today. I had some things pull me away from work yesterday and I just need to buckle down, now.

I have a blog friend. I don't think he realizes just how much I think of him and how much I really like him. I find his writing to be totally entertaining and I find his depth of emotion to be gut-wrenching sometimes, but so very real that I can't even find a way to adequately respond to some of the things he writes about. He's going through a lot. And I feel like, although we've never met in person or anything, we are growing apart. Do you see how totally idiotic that looks to read it? Growing apart! From someone that I've never met! I'm an over-emotional dork. It just makes me sad that I don't hear from him much any more. And it makes me sad. I guess I shouldn't apologize for something real like how I choose to feel about something. I just know that people grow and change. He's been doing a lot of both lately, and of course this whole experience for me moving away from my family and saying goodbye to my husband and starting my own business, it's all growth and change. I know. This is a totally idiotic thing. I just write about what's inside of me, and today this is inside of me. So I'm kind of sad, and am starting to mourn the loss, or at least partial loss, of a friend I feel like I kind of almost had. Now I sound like a blogstalker. Perfect.

And then I have this other amazing blog friend, and we just passed the two year anniversary of reading each other. And we've grown so amazingly close in this amount of time. Shanna has been and continues to be one of the most amazing friends a person could ever have. She's put my husband up for the night when he was making cross-country treks. We're now dreaming of taking a cruise vacation together. And we have a standing date to meet in New Orleans for a weekend of raucous debauchery, although now that might have to wait until after we have sprung forth with baby #1 (not pregnant, but realistically figuring I'll be knocked up before we make it to NoLa). So I am also feeling sad that I have been so busy lately that I haven't e-mailed with her enough, I feel, or haven't connected with her enough.

I don't know. I don't know where I'm going with all of this. Somewhere, I'm sure. I'm just a cesspool of emotions today and they're all coming out at one time. Which means I should go refill my latte and get the fuck back to work before I say anything that I will regret saying.

Sorry I wasn't more entertaining today, beloved readers-o-mine. I wish I could reach out and give every one of you a big fat hug. You know, except the guys who search in on google for stuff like "wife fucking" and "googly sex." Those guys, they can keep on going. I don't want their cooties. You know how it is.

Rose typed all this stuff at 9:36 AM | #


Monday, July 11, 2005



Don't read so loud. Seriously. Woman with a headache, here, woman with a headache.

Rose typed all this stuff at 8:17 AM | #


Sunday, July 10, 2005



I'm 3/4 through a bottle of wine. It took me four tries to get that typed correctly. That one sentence. Yes.

I just wanted to say that Legally Blonde is on TBS and I have never seen it and I am watching it for the first time and I so have the hots for Owen Wilson's brother, I don't even know his freaking name.

But geeky and cute, I'm all about it.

That is all.

Rose typed all this stuff at 8:07 PM | #




I'm tired.

It's 5:35pm on a Sunday, and I am completely whooped-ass pooped.

My Saturday? It ended significantly better than it started. I ended up sleeping until like 10:00am, got up, went to Edmond (not eskimo-land, Kim) and bought dog food. Why did I drive from Tinker AFB to Edmond, OK to get dog food? Because that's the only place I can buy the trillion-dollar mega-expensive dog food that our dog eats. Yes, I know, I spoil him rotten. Yes, I know, I'm a pushover. You're just going to have to learn how to deal with it.

What else did I do? Went to the Commissary to purchase the fixins for goodies for the Pagan Study Group, which met last night. What did we have?

A Variety Of Dessert Crostini
on Thinly-Sliced Grilled Baguette
Served With
Ripe Strawberries and Peaches with Chopped Mint in a Balsamic Vinegar Glaze
Homemade Lemon Cannoli Cream
Sweetened Ricotta Cheese
and Nutella

I wish I would have taken some pictures, it looked pretty cool. And the folks who ate it quite enjoyed it. I just laid it out like a little buffet, and you could take your little crostini, spread on it whatever you liked or a combination of more than one, and chow down.


Then I got home nice and late and hit the sack, and got up nice and - well - pretty much on time. I did, after all, have to work today.

Heard from my darling S., and while he did not make promotion for Tech Sgt. this time around, he did pull off something spectacular. He scored 99% on his PFE (Air Force information from history to rules/regs to customs to whatever) portion of his exam. His Commander where he is gave him a hearty congratulations and a big handshake for that. I'm very, very proud of him. If he does that again next year, when you count in the added points for the extra year he will have been in the USAF, I think he'll make the cut. I'm still very, very proud of him.

He said something to me today in an e-mail that made me cry, so I thought I'd share it.

I'm really craving some home-cooked greens "done up right." It's going to be nice to finally get home. I miss our daily routine. I keep telling myself that it won't be long before I get back, and we can sink back into our 'normal' life again. Me coming home can't happen soon enough.

How right you are, my darling. How right you are.

Why would that make me cry? Because for so many people, people our age, they spend so much time trying to "break out" of what's routine. Wanting to climb out of a rut, rise up out of a grave, look beyond what "ties them down" and shake things up. So many people spend so much time wishing they could liven up their "routine." They become complacent. They get comfortable, but not in a good way. They are comfortable AND distraught at being so.


We'd like to linger over a latte and go to the farmer's market on a Saturday, maybe have lunch at our favorite little Mexican place, and then sit around the living room while there's a pot of soup or a batch of greens cooking away for dinner.

You know. Like we do all the time.

We're comfortable in our routine, don't take one another for granted, and appreciate every second that we have together, whether it's mundane or atypical, whether we're laying around reading the ads out of a Sunday morning paper, watching our favorite TV show on a certain night of the week, or planning the vacation of our lives. Doesn't matter, as long as we're together.

I don't know if it's the life of a Military family that gives us that, you know, absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that... or if it's just because we truly are one another's best friend, and lover, so alike that we enjoy the same things, but so different that we are constantly teaching one another new things.

Either way, I consider it a blessing. And that's why the homecomings will get sweeter with every time he's gone, and why I will do everything I can to "keep it together" while he can't be here with me.

Wow. I got a little, you know, on a soapbox there. I should step down now.

Whoops! I left a bottle of wine in the freezer when I got home from the Shoppette a few hours ago! This might be my lucky day! WINE SLUSHIE!!!

Rose typed all this stuff at 5:35 PM | #


Saturday, July 09, 2005



My friend doesn't feel well and isn't going to be able to make it with me this morning to the farmers market.

So I'm going to go just crawl back in bed and get some more sleep. I have to go to Edmond anyway, but I'll just go later. I have no desire to walk around the farmer's market unaccompanied, so I'll just run my errands mid-day.

Finding Neverland is not the movie to watch when you are PMSsy, lonely, sad, or blue in general. I cried my eyes out and woke up this morning with huge bags under them.

Anyway. I'm going back to bed.

Rose typed all this stuff at 6:27 AM | #


Friday, July 08, 2005



What a total fucking lie that particular song lyric becomes in that particular place.

Let me just take a brief moment and describe where I am exactly at this moment.

I have my clothes on, but I'm not going anywhere.

I'm sitting in my office, but I don't want to work.

I spent part of my day today doing a favor for my mother which culminated in her telling me that I am The! Best! Daughter! Ever! And! I! Am! So! Fucking! Fabulous!

Then she said, with a little sneer in her voice, that the world is missing out on my greatness because I choose to work at home. Because I am not as great working at home and managing my own business, as I am if I am a Slave To The Man, apparently.

And right as I was IM'ing with my best friend and telling him exactly the way that my mother makes me feel like a total steaming pile of horse shit on a Friday, my husband called, and I spent half of our phone call crying.

About my mother.

Because I am about to have my period, which makes me a hormonal psychotic wacko.

So then we get onto nicer topics - our cruise - how many days until he comes home - and he tells me that they are on lockdown because of political turmoil in the country he's in plus couple that with terrorism abroad (I have avoided blogging about the London tragedy because I can't quite get the words to come out right, and would rather not be a dumbass) and people who are in undisclosed locations doing undisclosed things on classified missions aren't allowed to leave.


The up side? We got to talk for 46 minutes. 46 MINUTES! That's... amazing! I mean, that's seriously absolutely brilliant. I loved every second of the 46 minutes.

But then I had to say goodbye.

And all there was left to do for the day was work (not bloody likely), drink (I, for some reason, have sworn off the drinkage at least temporarily while he is gone so I don't end up doing something stupid like staggering through this TDY in a fog), or walk the dog, check the mail, order Chinese food and eat alone.

So I walked the dog, checked the mail (nothing), ordered Chinese food, and ate alone.

Now? It's 7:30pm, the sun is BLAZING through my fucking windows because I now live somewhere that (1) participates in Daylight Savings Time and (2) is actually far north enough that the sun shines unti 9pm in the summer. There are people splashing and playing at the pool. I've eaten more than my fill of Chinese food and would like nothing more than to tear into a tub of chocolate cake frosting with a teaspoon and a glass of milk, but I'm not gonna do it.

What am I going to do?

Probably go try to watch Napoleon Dynamite or Finding Neverland, and not be so goddamned sad that I had to hang up with my husband.

Fucking 46 minutes. If I had skipped today like was originally planned (he was at a phone on a fluke) and if I had gotten 15-20 minutes instead of 46 minutes, I might not be feeling so completely and utterly alone right now.

See, for those extra 20-25 minutes, I filled the void with something. I actually had enough time on the phone with him to get over the proverbial hump that comes with that kind of a phone call. We were actually pretty much "done talking," and not just because we figured we'd better wrap it up. We had covered all points.

And now I know he won't be calling me until at least Monday.

Another weekend.

Maybe I'll go to bed early so I can get up early and be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to go get Kae and cruise the farmer's market. After all, I did tell her I'd treat for Starbuck's. There's not one of those goddamned places within 10 miles of me, so if I'm driving past one at any time on a weekend you can bet your bottom dollar I'm going to stop for a beverage.

And even though I will probably get a sugarfree nonfat vanilla latte tomorrow, NOT even the dream of a calorie-laden iced venti nonfat caramel macchiato with extra extra caramel could make me forget what I felt like at about minute 35. Blissfully unaware that the majority was gone and the end was near. Just happy to be where I was.

Who the hell dreams blissfully of a seemingly random moment in a unexpected telephone call with someone who is thousands of miles away? Me. I guess.

And where I am, right now, makes where I was then that much more amazing to remember... and makes where I am right now feel even colder and more empty.

Rose typed all this stuff at 7:24 PM | #




I found my old They Might Be Giants CD stash. I need to buy some new TMBG discs, dammit.

So I'll start here... shamelessly and blatantly whored from the lovely SnarkWife

If, as you live your life, you find yourself mentally composing blog entries about it, post this exact same sentence in your weblog.

*frantically waving arms*

Me, me, Mr. Kotter, ooooooooo, me me me.

I will go on to say I have actually survived this week. I've been bombarded with work and I'm going to probably be swamped through most of the weekend, but I SURVIVED, goddammit!

I also:

Sent a thank-you-card to my PVP at Carnival Cruise Lines for making the experience of putting this trip together so pleaseant;

Sent cilantro seeds to Jon for his garden;

Sent a greeting card US post to my hubby at his APO;

Planned a trip to the Farmer's Market on Saturday with Kae;

Agreed to bring something fruity, sweet and delicious to the Pagan Study Group get-together tomorrow night;

... and got complimented heartily and well-deservedly by some of my clients.

I also got 1.5 hours of sleep on Wednesday night, reported some dude to eBay for being a complete fucktard, and got to talk to my hubby 3 out of the last 3 days, and might get to talk to him today, too.

Every 15 minutes is a blessing, I tell you what.

So with that, I should think about getting my Netflix together to haul down to the mailbox, getting some clothes on and walking the dog (who slept on the bed with me last night) before it gets too warm and humid, so I can dive into work and bury myself in my career.

Ah-yup. That's me. Career Woman.

Rose typed all this stuff at 7:28 AM | #


Tuesday, July 05, 2005



God dammit.

I ordered an awesome collapsible 62-can cooler for us to take on our cruise with us in October/November.

It came today.

I'm horked.

First of all, I paid $13.95 for UPS shipping and it was sent priority mail ($8.40).

Second of all, I would have excused the other $5.00 for shipping materials except it was packed in an old moving box with scribbles on the side of it and no padding of any kind.

So when I was cutting the top of the box open, I scratched the handle a little bit.

Oh well, you can't see it unless I tell you it's there and you go looking for it. But it still frosts my ass.

Rose typed all this stuff at 5:44 PM | #


Monday, July 04, 2005



Okay. So knowing that I actually have to work all day today, which is July 4, which is Independence Day, which I really shouldn't be working on, then it would stand to reason I should be able to get up early.

That would be why 65-mph winds hit my apartment complex last night at about 2:00 a.m., causing me to have to go out on the balcony in the middle of the night and pull down my windowboxes, and brace things down.

This morning? There's pool furniture in the pool and it looks like someone had some freakish frat party out at the pool deck. There's even a bunch of lawn chair furniture porn which leads me to be pissed off that although I am horny as a bunny rabbit, apparently the lounge chairs are getting it on.

It's currently thunder/raining and although the light has returned to the world, it's stil dark enough to feel miserable and gross.

My balcony? A total wreck. My iron patio chairs were blown over. My large garbage can on the patio is sideways. And although I pulled my windowboxes down, the BRACKETS for the windowboxes apparently went flying. So far I have been able to (in my jammies and flip flops in the early morning sprinkles) recover all the pieces except one, which in essence makes one set of my windowbox brackets completely and 100% worthless. Motherfucker. I will be going back down a little later after I've had some coffee and it's not raining.

One piece of one bracket. Goddammit.

Oh, and me?

I still have the huge box of tapes that I received on Saturday that I am supposed to try to get through as many as I can today. I guess I better hop-to. I wanted to do something else -- anything else -- and now of course, I am going to have to suck it up with a smile since I probably had about two hours of sleep last night (can you say "afraid of storms?")


I think I just upgraded myself to an espresso drink instead of your casual everyday coffee. Look out double fudge mocha, here I come.

Rose typed all this stuff at 8:53 AM | #


Sunday, July 03, 2005



Am I the only one watching the Wizard of Oz, uncut and commercial free, on TCM?

Not that I'd be surprised if I was, or anything.

But I am watching it.

Uncut and commercial free.

I get all nostalgic about the Wizard of Oz. I want to be able to share this amazing film with my own children some day.

And I am always surprised at how many of the songs I know and stuff.

I always get goosebumps when the movie switches from sepia to beautiful Technicolor.

Poppies! Poppies!

Rose typed all this stuff at 7:58 PM | #


Saturday, July 02, 2005




I think I'm sick.

Being sick by yourself sucks ass.

Being sick by yourself and still having to work, do chores, and walk the dog sucks much ass.

I've ordered in some egg drop soup and we'll see how I feel tomorrow. I'm missing hanging out with some friends for this, and that in itself sucks major donkey balls.


Rose typed all this stuff at 5:40 PM | #


My job as a military wife is
to make it as easy as possible
for my beloved husband to do his job.
Where he leads, I will follow.

Name: Rose
Age: 36
Religion: Pagan
Husband: SSgt, USAF
Current Location: Tinker AFB, OK
Job: Self-Employed Transcriptionist
and Domestic Goddess

I am currently pimping:
Kasora Teas.

me @ consumating

I play Everquest II!
Thornwyn Tamarisk
Iksar Necromancer, Kithicor

We're trying for a baby!

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