Today I was surprised to see a blimp floating in the air above Charleston. I'm not sure why it was here but it reminded me of some things.
Once, as I got out of my car, a stranger said to me, "Hey, have you ever seen the Space Shuttle?" "No," I replied. He pointed upward and I saw the Space Shuttle being transported piggy-back on a big airplane.
Another time, a neighbor said, "Have you ever seen Air Force 1? It's flying over right now." I looked up and, indeed, Air Force 1 flew over after having taken off from our nearby airport.
I sure hope no one ever says to me, "Hey, have you ever seen a giant shit and piss cloud falling from the sky?"
It’s not you, it’s me REPOST
Current mood: sleepy
Category: MySpace
This is a repost of a blog I wrote a while back...when I found it necessary to reduce the number of my MySpace friends so that I could really communicate with the people in my life. So, if you're reading this because you've noticed that you're not on my friends list anymore (and if it matters to you), here it is:
_____________________________________________
Life seems too complicated lately. I sometimes can't keep up with the various communications I'd like to read from the people I know and love. For that reason, I've made the tough choice to try and pare down my MySpace friends list.
Similar to what Queen Sarah, Ruler of the Wonderous Land of Sarahtopia stated last year, if you're reading this after you realized we're not MySpace friends anymore, don't take it personally. Though I really appreciate you adding me as a friend (whether you or I made the request), I've pretty much just decided to leave people who:
a. I know in real life; and/or
b. Are friends of friends; and/or
c. I don't know in real life but have developed a pretty active online friendship with; and/or
d. Are 'round Charleston somewhere even if I haven't met them.
_____________________________________________
This time, to some degree, I've had to remove people who do fit the description above...but that I pretty much never communicate with (and maybe never did). Nonetheless...
For my fellow Texans...and anyone else who wants a laugh
Current mood: amused
Category: MySpace
The older of my two brothers, Cliff, sent me this. He was born in Texas and I was partially-raised (middle school and high school) there. Be sure to read all three judges' entries. And enjoy!
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For those of you who have lived in Texas, you know that they actually have a Chili cook-off about the time the rodeo comes to town. It takes up a major portion of the parking lot at the Astrodome.
The notes are from an inexperienced chili taster named Frank, who was visiting Texas from the East Coast:
Frank: "Recently, I was honored being selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking directions to the Budweiser truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted."
Here are the scorecards from the event:
Chili 1 Mike's Maniac Mobster Monster Chili
Judge 1 -- Little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge 2 -- Nice smooth tomato flavor. Very mild
Judge 3 (Frank) Holy shit, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. Hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.
Chili 2 Arthur's Afterburner Chili
Judge 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.
Judge 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.
Chili 3 Fred's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili
Judge 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick. Needs more beans.
Judge 2 -- A beanless chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers
Judge 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting shit-faced from all of the beer.
Chili 4 Bubba's Black Magic
Judge 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.
Judge 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out tastebuds? Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That bitch is starting to look HOT -- just like this nuclear waste I'm eating. Is chili an aphrodisiac?
Judge 2 -- Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
Judge 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks.
Chili 6 Vera's Very Vegetarian Variety
Judge 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.
Judge 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
Judge 3 -- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. I shit myself when I farted and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that slut Sally. She must be kinkier than I thought. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my ass with a snow cone.
Chili 7 Susan's Screaming Sensation Chili
Judge 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. I should take note that I am worried about Judge 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.
Judge 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava like shit to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me.
I've decided to stop breathing, its too painful. Screw it, I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.
Chili 8 Tommy's Toe-Nail Curling Chili
Judge 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge 2 -- This final entry is a good, balance chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge 3 passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor dude, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili.
I can't believe I missed it...
Current mood: restless
Category: Life
I missed the one-year anniversary of Teach Your Parrot To Say Something Important Day (May 24th). I can't believe it. The story behind TYPTSSID is one of my stand-bys when I need something guaranteed to make me laugh. Sure, it's a very twisted, dark-comedy kind of laugh...but a laugh nonetheless. Sort of like when you see someone trip and that makes you laugh involuntarily but less...surprising.
In (late) honor of TYPTSSID, I have to recognize Chez for turning me on to GirlsArePrettyand Melissa for sitting in my kitchen while I was folding laundry and reading this out loud to me. And now for your reading pleasure...
Teach Your Parrot To Say Something Important Day!
Today you are going to be murdered by your ex-girlfriend, Marsha. Marsha will have grown increasingly crazed with jealousy for all that hotness you took away from her when you broke it off a few months back. Today she'll come by to tell you that she's been watching you with your new girlfriend, and that it's very insensitive of you to prance around town with her. It's like you're trying to make Marsha's heart break over and over again, Marsha will say. Marsha will tell you that she's going to make sure she never has to see anything like that again. Then she'll stab you.
You'll still be alive after Marsha leaves, but you'll be pretty sure you're going to die. At that moment, you'll be so glad that two months prior you decided on a whim to buy Zany, your pet parrot. With your blood draining from your wound, leaving you too weak to call the police or find a pen and paper, teaching Zany to tell the police that Marsha was the killer will be your only chance of ensuring her arrest.
When you bought Zany, you told your friends you just always thought Parrots were neat. But lying on that floor, staring up at Zany on his perch, you'll know the real reason. Somewhere in your heart, you must have known this day would come. You knew you would one day be murdered in your home. And you knew that you had to have a parrot in the house that would identify the perpetrator for the police.
"Marsha...did...it," you'll rasp up at Zany. "Marsha...did...it."
Zany will squawk once in response.
"Marsha...did...it. Come on Zany. Marsha...did...it."
Your vision will start to go gray a bit around the edges.
"Marsha...did...it."
Zany will squawk again. "Didit," Zany will say. You'll feel a brief burst of energy and your vision will clear.
"That's it," you'll say. "Marsha...did...it."
"Didit...Marsha...Didit Marsha." It will sound like he's saying it backwards, but he'll have it.
"Yes!" you'll cough. "Marsha...did it."
"Didit Marsha!" Zany will repeat. "Didit Marsha!"
You'll feel weak again, light as a feather. "Marsha did it," you'll murmur. "Marsha did it."
And then just before you go, you'll speak the very last thought in your mind. "Kim," you'll say, bidding goodbye to the world with the sound of your current girlfriend's name.
In the silence of the apartment where you'll now lay dead, Zany will squawk over your body, "Didit Kim! Didit Kim!"
When the police arrive, they'll find no weapon, no fingerprints, no apparent clues that would point to an ex-girlfriend having broken in and killed the object of her obsession. Just a parrot repeating an accusation over and over again. Your girlfriend Kim will be charged and she'll plead guilty to second degree murder. She'll want to fight the charge, but her attorney will convince her that if a parrot takes the stand and fingers her for the murder of her boyfriend, it will be so frigging cool that the jury will want to give her the chair.
"Polly don't want this cracker," her attorney will tell her. She'll never forget those words during her eleven years inside. And she'll never forgive herself for not having told you before you got killed just how much she hated your stupid parrot.
Happy Teach Your Parrot To Say Something Important Day!
I am totally digging PBS the last few days. I have always watched it here and there and love the show American Experience (a documentary show). But over the last few days I've been watching it more and more.
Yesterday or the day before, I watched a super-cool series called American Roots Music. This particular episode featured Creole and Zydeco music. Did you know that back in the 30's and 40's the Cajun culture was shunned by many people in Louisiana? I didn't!! People spoke French in their homes secretly and children who did so at school would be ridiculed and even punished (and it was forbidden for teachers to speak French in school). This was fascinating to me (not to mention nice to listen to because I really like Zydeco).
Earlier today, I watched an episode of American Experience talking about the Berlin Airlift that began in 1948. If you know me well, you know that I'm history and geography-deficient. I'm good at math, English, psychology, etc. Anyway, I am psyched to learn something about the airlift (because I didn't really know anything about it before). Now, I know that learning about history on TV really exposes you to the rewriting of history by the people that made the show, by the men who "wrote" history, etc. but at least I'm getting the idea of it.
Right now, I'm watching a documentary about the class system in America. This one, of course, is right up my liberal arts alley. By the way, if this interests you at all, and if you want to get a good foothold on the subject, read these two books: The Working Poor by David Shipman; and Nickel and Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich. Okay, I guess these books aren't so much about the entire class system because they don't really examine "why are rich people able to stay so rich?" but they're really about why our country is full of hard-working, poor people who live right on the line between survival and devastation and for whom one small setback could land them on the streets. Anyway, reading about how rich people stay rich isn't very interesting and probably won't do you or society any good.
OH! And they often show this great hour-and-a-half show called The Appalachians which is, of course, about the history of the Appalachians. I just love, love, love this show. The Appalachian culture is just so dear to me because, although I lived my teenage years in Texas, I was born in Pikeville, Kentucky. And, for the last 16 years, I've lived here in West Virginia. Appalachian history is so rich and jubilant and painful all at one time. Watch this one...seriously. (By the way, do you know that the regional dialect in West Virginia is the result of the Scots-Irish heritage? I've lost my own accent after living in many different areas of the country but I find the "traditional" local accent beautiful, comfortable, and fascinating.)
So, in summary, I am totally loving PBS. I feel like I've learned a lot just in the last few days. Jeopardy, here I come!!!
The Break-Up is on HBO right now. Seeing it on TV reminds me of when it first came out. It was definitely advertised as a comedy and IMDB categorizes it as such. Melissa, Heather, and I went to see it expecting some good laughs about how funny relationships are.
It turned out to be more like this: Imagine one of those really, serious, awful fights you have with your husband, wife, girlfriend, or boyfriend that leaves you feeling like, despite your love for each other, you can't be together anymore. (I realize that this happens and sometimes the situation reconciles itself. Of course, sometimes it doesn't and it's over.)
Okay, so you understand that awful, sinking feeling I'm talking about now? That's the whole movie pretty much. But it's so realistic that it has that transference effect. You actually end up feeling what they're conveying in the movie. This is actually (typically) more of a feminine trait than masculine. Women tend to be more emphathetic than men. In fact, I just took a formal poll in my house. I asked Eric if he'd seen the movie and he said, "most of it." I asked him if he was heartbroken at the end and he said, "Uhh-unnn-nnooo." (That's husband-speak for "I don't know.")
So this was a strange movie to be billed as a comedy. Seeing what really appeared to be true love lost made me feel awful. Melissa, Heather, and I all felt awful when the movie was over. (Sort of like the same "what the fuck?" as at the end of Message in a Bottle.) Anyway, don't watch it unless you're thick-skinned. I'm telling you...it's effect is strong enough to straight-up start a fight in your house.
When I had to attend an ACLU board meeting at Twin Falls State Park on Saturday, Eric went with me.On the way back, we went sans radio/CD player and just talked.(For some more background, I hadn't slept well the night before because I'm spoiled with my awesome mattress at home.To counter being half-asleep during an eight-hour board meeting, I literally had about seven small cups of coffee.)
Anyway, I was still wired and we had this super-awesome discussion about the symbolic versus literal interpretation of religious texts. (You know...you ever have one of those discussions that just invigorates you and is crazy-good brain food?) Our conversation about religion got me onto the subject of my observations about a great human error: thinking that we know all there is really to know out there and that our human boundaries are all there are.Now…we don't take acid but we spent the next hour or so totally tripping out with our thoughts…
Do you ever think about what's at the edge or end of space?People say there is no end to it but, based on our human-based way of thinking, there has to be.After all, if there is a space then, by the very definition of "a space," there has to be something around it, defining it.But what's at the end of that?And what's at the end of that?And what's at the end of that?And if you say, "well, space is ever-expanding" then expanding into what?It's all the same circular question…over and over. And the answer can't be "nothing" because even if there was such a thing as "nothing" then "something" would have to go up to the edge of nothing and, BOOM!, "nothing" now has a boundary.
And how can we assume that this Earthly time and space we live in is what we think it is?It's certainly cliché to say but why would we not think that our entire universe, as we know it, is not a miniscule speck in some other universe?Because the universe as we see it is so big?Big compared to what?How would we even begin to know??
There has to be some other really cool dimensions out there that our minds can't comprehend.I'm not saying like other dimensions of time and space because, based on the way we use and think about those things, they can't be the answer.I just think human time and human space are impossible concepts and I wonder if…whatever is after this lifetime, I wonder if we will receive total enlightenment.(So we'll have that goin' for us.)
My very good friend Sara is a super-cool woman whom I admire very much. I'm so glad she's my friend. All that being said, she sent me (and some other women) this article about the physical and mental benefits of friendships among women. I love it!! Thanks, Sara!!!
(P.S. To all my women friends out there...thanks for helping me improve my health!! And for being AWESOME!!)
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UCLA Study on Friendship Among Women
By Gale Berkowitz
A landmark UCLA study suggests friendships between women are special. They shape who we are and who we are yet to be. They soothe our tumultuous inner world, fill the emotional gaps in our marriage, and help us remember who we really are. By the way, they may do even more.
Scientists now suspect that hanging out with our friends can actually counteract the kind of stomach-quivering stress most of us experience on a daily basis. A landmark UCLA study suggests that women respond to stress with a cascade of brain chemicals that cause us to make and maintain friendships with other women.
It's a stunning find that has turned five decades of stress research --- most of it on men --- upside down. "Until this study was published, scientists generally believed that when people experience stress, they trigger a hormonal cascade that revs the body to either stand and fight or flee as fast as possible," explains Laura Cousino Klein, Ph.D., now an Assistant Professor of Biobehavioral Health at Penn State University and one of the study's authors.
Now the researchers suspect that women have a larger behavioral repertoire than just "fight or flight." "In fact," says Dr. Klein,"it seems that when the hormone oxytocin is released as part of the stress responses in a woman, it buffers the "fight or flight" response and encourages her to tend children and gather with other women instead. When she actually engages in this tending or befriending, studies suggest that more oxytocin is released, which further counters stress and produces a calming effect. This calming response does not occur in men", says Dr. Klein, "because testosterone --- which men produce in high levels when they're under stress --- seems to reduce the effects of oxytocin. Estrogen", she adds, "seems to enhance it."
The discovery that women respond to stress differently than men was made in a classic "aha!" moment shared by two women scientists who were talking one day in a lab at UCLA. "There was this joke that when the women who worked in the lab were stressed, they came in, cleaned the lab, had coffee, and bonded", says Dr. Klein. "When the men were stressed, they holed up somewhere on their own. I commented one day to fellow researcher Shelley Taylor that nearly 90% of the stress research is on males. I showed her the data from my lab, and the two of us knew instantly that we were onto something."
The women cleared their schedules and started meeting with one scientist after another from various research specialties. Very quickly, Drs. Klein and Taylor discovered that by not including women in stress research, scientists had made a huge mistake: The fact that women respond to stress differently than men has significant implications for our health.
It may take some time for new studies to reveal all the ways that oxytocin encourages us to care for children and hang out with other women, but the "tend and befriend" notion developed by Drs. Klein and Taylor may explain why women consistently outlive men. Study after study has found that social ties reduce our risk of disease by lowering blood pressure, heart rate, and cholesterol. "There's no doubt," says Dr. Klein, "that friends are helping us live." In one study, for example, researchers found that people who had no friends increased their risk of death over a 6-month period. In another study, those who had the most friends over a 9-year period cut their risk of death by more than 60%. Friends are also helping us live better. The famed Nurses' Health Study from Harvard Medical School found that the more friends women had, the less likely they were to develop physical impairments as they aged, and the more likely they were to be leading a joyful life.
In fact, the results were so significant, the researchers concluded, that not having close friends or confidantes was as detrimental to your health as smoking or carrying extra weight! And that's not all! When the researchers looked at how well the women functioned after the death of their spouse, they found that even in the face of this biggest stressor of all, those women who had a close friend confidante were more likely to survive the experience without any new physical impairments or permanent loss of vitality. Those without friends were not always so fortunate. Yet if friends counter the stress that seems to swallow up so much of our life these days, if they keep us healthy and even add years to our life, why is it so hard to find time to be with them? That's a question that also troubles researcher Ruthellen Josselson, Ph.D., co-author of "Best Friends: The Pleasures and Perils of Girls' and Women's Friendships (Three Rivers Press, 1998).
"Every time we get overly busy with work and family, the first thing we do is let go of friendships with other women," explains Dr. Josselson."We push them right to the back burner. That's really a mistake because women are such a source of strength to each other. We nurture one another. And we need to have unpressured space in which we can do the special kind of talk that women do when they're with other women. It's a very healing experience."
Currently
listening
:
The Best of Blondie
By
Blondie
Release date: 25 October, 1990
There's no room for funny tonight or personal complaining. In fact, what happened today at Virginia Tech seems too complicated and suffocatingly painful to write about directly. I couldn't even begin to know what it must be like to be a student or employee on that campus. Even if you don't know anyone who was injured or killed, it has to be awful to have such a big part of your world invaded and bloodied, forever rendering the buildings and rooms in which you conduct your life corrupted.
What always strikes me about human nature in the face of tragedy is our near-immediate need for answers and the same near-immediate need to "fix" it. This makes complete sense (the reaction...not thinking we can always fix something). When something terrible happens and it's out of our control, we can't cope. Only by taking some action, whether it's useful or not, do we feel safer. It feels helpless to sit by and be able to do nothing.
It's hard to say yet if anything would have made a difference or stopped what happened. There's already finger-pointing at the school administration and at the gun industry. I'm not going to get into my opinions on any of that here and now. What I really want to know is the same thing everyone else does...why? What was so bad? How could you shoot and kill nearly three dozen people and mow down the lives of hundreds of the victims' friends and family as you go? What happened to you to make you do this to strangers...people who had never done anything to you? Mental illness? Simple rage at society in general?
We may find some clues, but we'll likely never know the entire story. Even a farewell note or other writing from the shooter would speak from only his perspective.
What to say about the pain when we as society suffer such a loss of life and trust (at least temporarily)? At least it's still shocking and horrible to us. At least we're not desensitized to it. I'll venture to guess the outpouring of sympathy and help will be swift and substantial because, for the most part, people are good. My faith in humanity is not shaken but my heart is heavy with today's news.
I'm putting together an iPod playlist for my kids to listen to while we're in the van. My daughters love to sing and my son loves to scowl while the girls sing so it'll be great!! I'm looking for song ideas mostly in the rock and folk genres, but stuff that's light. By way of example, so far I've got:
Puff the Magic Dragon (Peter, Paul & Mary)
Take Me Home Country Roads (John Denver)
Over the Rainbow (Eva Cassidy)
Close to You (The Carpenters)
So, who's got some ideas?
By the way, when I played Over the Rainbow for the girls tonight, these wide smiles came across their faces and they were mesmerized. Their eyes even got kind of glassy. (It's a really, really beautiful song. Perhaps it's even more beautiful when you know that she died of cancer at age 33...just a few years before this song gained mainstream radio play.) I put in on my profile in case you want to hear it.
I had to play Puff the Magic Dragon for the girls three times. They enjoyed (trying to) sing along. I was like a goddess to them because I knew all the words.
Currently
listening
:
Songbird
By
Eva Cassidy
Release date: 19 May, 1998
Until about 45 minutes ago, I was in my office. My office building is a converted East End home (three stories and a basement) and my office is at the top of the stairs leading up from the lobby.
So I had been sitting there quietly working at my desk for probably a good hour. I probably hadn't even been on the phone. I was going down to the copier and, after I had taken the six steps or so to get me to the top of the stairs, there was a very loud noise in the vicinity of the bottom of the stairs. Since I had been alone (as far as I knew) for about five hours, I said, "Who's there?" as loud and firm as I could without screaming. No answer.
Now I really expected that it would be Andy who rents an office from us. He's in at a lot of odd hours. When no answer came, I moved as swiftly but quietly as I could back to the phone and dialed 9-1-1. I mean, I really felt scared. I'm typically no wuss but it was a loud noise and it came just as I approached the steps! In my split-second thinking, I had theorized that someone had gotten into the building, didn't know I was there, and had startled when they heard me approach the stairs (or did know I was there but just counted on me staying upstairs). I was SCARED. I don't want to be robbed or beaten up or murdered and I do carry a vagina with me which gives me that extra-special fear.
The 9-1-1 guy was super cool and I made it clear that I'd only heard a loud noise, that I was afraid someone might be in the building, and that I'd like a police officer to come look through the building with me. When we hung up, I sat and waited right by the phone (in case the mystery murderer came bounding up the stairs to get me, I might have a chance to at least dial 9-1-1 again before he made it all the way up).
The cops, bless their cute uniform-wearing hearts, got there pretty damned quick. It felt like five minutes so it was probably closer to two. When my saviors arrived (all four of them), they were also very, very nice and did not make me feel stupid for calling them. They looked through the basement and first floors (the only place someone could have been), found nothing, then walked me to my car. Now I'm safe at home in my bed (although I can't sleep because I'm still coming down off the adrenaline).
The odd thing is, no matter how loud that noise was, I found nothing downstairs out-of-place. I felt certain that if I was not going to be raped or murdered, then there would be something relatively large that had obviously fallen over or off (a wall). But there was nothing. But, still, if that really cute first cop and his three buddies thought I was hysterical or anything, they didn't let on. And I hadn't even pulled the "my husband's a firefighter" card in order to get good treatment.
It's Not You, It's Me
Current mood: rushed
Category: MySpace
Life seems too complicated lately. I sometimes can't keep up with the various communications I'd like to read from the people I know and love. For that reason, I've made the tough choice to try and pare down my MySpace friends list.
Similar to what Queen Sarah, Ruler of the Wonderous Land of Sarahtopia stated last year, if you're reading this after you realized we're not MySpace friends anymore, don't take it personally. Though I really appreciate you adding me as a friend (whether you or I made the request), I've pretty much just decided to leave people who:
a. I know in real life; and/or
b. Are friends of friends; and/or
c. I don't know in real life but have developed a pretty active online friendship with; and/or
d. Are 'round Charleston somewhere even if I haven't met them.
Mr. Stony Ellis Totten now holds the all-time fastest record for the Barracuda swim team (YMCA) in the boys 8-and-under 25-meter freestyle. He's been swimming competitively for about four months. Go Stony!!
It's been over a year since Eric left for Kuwait via Kansas, travel arrangements courtesy of the United States Army. Now he says his unit will be coming home the last week of September. They'll fly to Kansas first, spend a few days there, then fly home to Charleston. If my affect seems flat, it's because I don't want to get my hopes completely up.
The military is famous for last-minute extensions. Last year, I saw a woman interviewed on television who expected her husband home within days. He called her to say they had literally pulled him out of the line at the airport (on his way home) to say he had to stay at least three more months. She described it as feeling like "a kick in the stomach." No doubt.
But Eric is pretty confident that nothing like that will happen. He's confident enough to have me go ahead and buy our airline tickets for the vacation we've planned to take together in mid-October. That's a pretty good sign because, as you know, any airline ticket that's affordable is non-refundable.
So I'm allowing myself to be a little excited. It sure would be nice to not just have the restrictions and responsibilities of being married, but also the benefits. (Hey, I know I'm not the only person to ever sleep alone, but at least most other people have options.) I can't imagine having someone to help me not only with day-to-day pain-in-the-ass stuff, but with bigger things like parenting. I mean, I guess I could imagine it, since I've had it before, but my memory of that must be fading.
I'll never forget what my friends have done for me while Eric's been away. They've pretty much saved my life. But Eric knows me better than anybody, and he loves me, and he's a great friend to me, too. When he's back, I'll have my friends and my husband. Life is good.
crazy
silly
sleepy
amused
restless
impressed
curious
thankful
sad
cold
relieved
rushed
pleased
optimistic