Weekend Review {5/18}

FRIDAY

Since I had Meri with me at work on Friday, I had to go straight home after work instead of straight to the gym.  What this really meant was that laziness ensued and after watching Grey's episodes 22/23 and 24, it was a battle to talk myself into working out.  I should have went on a run because it was pretty cool (only 80 degrees) and I know that "cool" days are limited and Southern summer is going to hit soon and being outside isn't going to be an option.  Instead, I drove my happy ass all the way to the smelly gym. 
 

One of the things that I procrastinated with was looking up gym options.  I really have a strong disdain for the base gym.  Not because of lack of machines/weights/etc but because of 2 significant factors: the SMELL and all the bros.  And these aren't cool bros who could kick your ass like Kathy, these are nerd bros who think that big biceps are gonna get them laid (which is possible for some of them, until they start to speak and then all hope is lost).  I cut some slack for the smell, but the fact that check-in desk is in the weight room means that the first thing you smell is sweaty bro.. doesn't matter if it's 8 in the morning or 5 in the afternoon, it stinks so unbearably bad that I hold my breath for as long as possible and usually have a nasty face before I can escape.  My strong sense of smell has become a thing after starting to use Astelin nose spray, which makes my life better.. except for when things stink.  You win some and you lose some I guess.

After getting home from the gym, I showered and fed the beasts and debate on a dinner plan.  There was chicken thawed, but my desire to cook was at it's regular low, but coupled with having eaten at home all week, I was ready for a change.  Mr Scrooge didn't end up getting home till right after 7:30 (have I mentioned lately how over his big work event thingy I am?) and I was sitting in Yurtle about to pull out of the garage when I noticed him coming down the street.  I had decided on going to Sesame for dinner, had Mr. Scrooge not pulled up right then, I would have brought him something home (the night before he didn't get home until 8:30, so I figured I had some time).  Since he came home just in time, I gave him a few minutes to change out of his uniform and then we went to dinner.

In bad blogger form, I didn't take a photo, but I got blackened catfish over grits with a sauce thing and Mr. Scrooge got a burger.  I wasn't able to eat all the grits, so we brought them home to use for breakfast on Saturday. 

When we got home, Mr. Scrooge wanted to "unwind" (/rolleyes at the obvious "I want to stay up and drink and watch TV because it's Friday night") and I was ready for bed.  Here's why I like going to bed at the same time as the person who sleeps beside me: I dislike greatly being woken up at 1am or 2am or whatever fucking am they decide to come to bed that is after I'm already asleep.  NO ME GUSTA.  I've explained that to Mr. Scrooge and he always insists he will be quiet.  Well, quiet isn't the problem.  It's the lights that blind me or when he lays down beside me and wants to cuddle but ends up laying on my hair, which yanks my head, which definitely wakes me up.  Friday night was no exception... except I got an apology Saturday morning for him punching me in the boob because he just wanted to hold me.  Do I need to be held at 130am?  NO.  I need to be left alone... especially if I'm asleep.  Your attempts at affection are lost on me if I'm not aware that it's happening.  Sorry.

SATURDAY

I got up at some point to feed the dogs and went back to bed.  I had considered a run, but then reassessed that plan in hopes of ...other activities.. which didn't end up happening (queue the rage).  Mr. Scrooge got up and showered and made breakfast and then went out and mowed the lawn.  I had a less vigorous plan of action.  I ate breakfast and as soon as Mr. Scrooge went out to mow the lawn I turned on the last episode of Grey's that was on the DVR. 

Side rant: I fucking hate Comcast/xfinity.  With my entire being, I hate them. 

I was about halfway through the episode and I was fast forwarding through the commericals, because that's why people DVR shit, when I started to experience errors and the box wouldn't respond.  So I turn to the internet because I'm resourceful.  I go to download the episode so I can watch it uninterrupted and the file was downloading at 5kb/sec.  Sooooo.. my episode was downloading at 1999 speeds.  I didn't have the patience for that, so I cancelled it and went to the ABC webpage to watch it.  Problem: if the DVR is having issues, that usually indicates there are other service provider issues... like INTERNET issues.  So twice during the last 30 minutes, I had to refresh the page when it couldn't load. 

Honestly, all I can remember thinking about the episode was, "Please don't be setting up for a 12th season."  I read during my last refresh that season 12 has already been confirmed.  Le sigh.  I think I didn't enjoy it as much because of all my technical difficulties.. and because I'm over it.  This really isn't Grey's Anatomy anymore.  You've got 4 members of the original cast that remain and the show has become completely predictable (if you're me).  There's always going to be a tragedy/major event/something that can span several episodes to create an arc about mid-season.  The season will always end in either a tragedy involving the characters or some kind of emotional cliff, sometimes both, but not often.  Also, I'm pretty sure that one of the Jackson/April episodes didn't have Meredith in it at all.  Additionally, the new sister just .. bleh.

After the episode, I headed to the store to pick up some items since Mr. Scrooge required milk for Sunday morning because he had to work.  In true asshole fashion, I made the cashier ring up my 15-ish items twice after she failed to ask me for my rewards card and instead used her own (which was nice) because not using my card meant that I wouldn't get my Ibotta rewards since Food Lion is linked with the rewards card and I don't have to upload the receipt.  Not using my card meant that I wouldn't have gotten $5 back.  Yep, I'm that lady.  If it had been a buggy full of items, it wouldn't have been worth it, but because there wasn't anyone behind me (when she started to rescan the items) and I only had a handful of items, it wasn't that big of a deal.  It was when the cashier started to get an attitude that I stopped feeling bad for her.  #sorrynotsorry

After getting home, I called the motorcycle shop to see if Mike was fixed or not.  They said yes, but they weren't able to get the lights on the gauges to work (something about a panel which transferred into "it would have been too much work so I didn't bother").  I said it was fine since we had more daylight now and Mr. Scrooge and I went to pick up Mike soon after. 

So Mike and I are reunited.  Mike still has some issues that need to be fixed, but for now he's ride-able.

Mr. Scrooge had all the panic attacks following me home from the motorcycle shop.  I'm not really sure why, I was fine, but he was overly worried.  After we got home, Mr. Scrooge replaced the seat on Clifford (his bike) and we decided to ride to the outlets so he could find a new pair of sunglasses (since he's lost/broken all 3 sets that he has/had).  On our way to the outlets, we had to stop on base so Mr. Scrooge could pick up his ID at work (it really is good that I still have an ID for base access).  While he ran inside, I was riding around practicing my turns (ya know, my motorcycle nemisis).  I was doing pretty good and was on my way back to his building when I looked up and saw him and got distracted and ended up doing some off roading.  I wasn't going very fast, so I was able to maintain control and just coast to a stop.  It didn't help that I was being tailgated (is that still the right term if I'm on the motorcycle?) by some asshole.  Mr. Scrooge was so scared that the first thing he did was (I was still stopped on the side of the road, waiting to see if he was going to slow down and wait on me to catch up or stop) stop and get off his bike and hug me.  He was super worried about me. 

We got back on the road since all was good and headed to the outlets.  Why the hell are sunglasses so expensive?  Seriously?  It's completely unnecessary.  Mr. Scrooge found a pair that he liked and then we had to go back home to feed the dogs.  After the dogs were fed, we headed over to Teh Architect and Teh SC House Finder's house for a dinner gathering.  I've definitely been missing their company in the last few months (considering we were gathering every weekend for several months).

We rode Mike and Clifford over, so we left right before 9 so we could have a little bit of daylight left to get home (since Mike's gauge lights still aren't working (arggh)).  There's just something about riding in the dark which is infinitely worse for me than riding in the daylight.  My confidence suffers and I think I'm extra paranoid about the turns and people not seeing me.

Before we left for the dinner gathering, I finally had to have a talkin' to with Mr. Scrooge.  His paranoia over me riding again was really starting to affect my confidence.  He just kept telling me how worried he was about all the things blah blah blah and I couldn't handle it anymore.  I was completely confident about getting back on Mike.  It wasn't a choice for me, I knew I would ride again.  I would be more cautious and I wasn't going to feel pressured to go faster than I was comfortable with.  I don't ride to impress people or do crazy stunts.  I ride because it's fun and it's different than in a car and it's a slight challenge (and it's a little dangerous).  I told him that his fear was really starting to fuck with my head and my confidence and I needed him to have a little faith in me that I'd be ok and that things would be ok when we were riding. 

That said, I did say something about making a sign that says "STUDENT" on it to pin on my backpack/back when I'm riding so assholes stop riding my ass.  Just because I'm on a motorcycle doesn't meant that I need to go fast.  Seriously people.  Get off me.

SUNDAY

Mr. Scrooge had to work (seriously over this audit thing) and he was concerned for my ability to entertain myself while he was gone.. bahahahaha.  Silly.  When he left, I got up and got ready to go on a run.  I figured 4ish miles since it was the weekend and it was only 70 degrees and Teh MD Adult Roomie was running her half marathon at the same time, so it'd be like we were running together in spirit!  Yeah, I didn't make it .75 miles before I had to turn around and go home because I have a bump in my leg crack (where your leg and torso meet) that is completely rubbed raw and enduring that searing pain for almost an hour probably would have killed me, not made me stronger.  So I turned around and limped home.  No me gusta.  Also, can we just get a fuck you to Hidradenitis suppurativa?

Side lesson: Don't google images of Hidradenitis suppurativa.  Essentially, it's lumps/cysts that form under the skin, usually in the armpits/under butt cheeks/leg cracks that come up and eventually drain.  If the condition gets really bad, the cysts/lumps can form tunnels under the skin.  It's pretty gnarly AND NOT AN STD.  Because of where mine is (leg crack), my navy doc actually called it the Herpaderp and you can imagine my outrage when I noticed that shit in my medical record.  PS.  There's no actual cure.  There's ways to mitigate symptoms, but no way to prevent.  It's fucking grand.  I thought it was just a reoccurring ingrown hair for many, many years and we (Teh Sister and I) refer to it as the BJB (big junk bump (due to location)).  It's kinda funny now, but still embarrassing, which is of course why I put it all out there on Teh Blog for strangers to read.  You're welcome, Gentle Readers.

Instead of running, since I was already kinda sweaty (yeah, it's Charleston, it didn't take much) and I saw one of the neighbor's cleaning his vehicles, I got motivated to wash Yurtle.  THEN.. oh then.. I was almost home and it was like God was speaking to me.  He said, "Megan, you should wash Yurtle and here's why... there's a spigot on the side of the garage!"  You see, what had happened was, when we moved in, Mr. Scrooge assessed that there was only a SINGLE spigot on the opposite side of the house as the garage, which meant having to use TWO hoses to wash the cards and running those across the yard and that was too much of a commitment for me.... thus Yurtle's state of nastiness (unless Mr. Scrooge washed her).  A spigot so close to the cars meant that I only had to use ONE hose and I was totally ok with that.  So Yurtle AND Grey Cloud got baths.  I made sure to show him evidence of said spigot later and explain just how cute he was... but sometimes.. he was a little too "nukey" for me and he should take that down a few levels.  He's the one that's always in the yard.. HOW DID HE MISS THIS!?  Whatevs.

After accomplishing clean vehicles, I went inside and continued my motivated streak.  Several weeks months ago, I ordered 2 more chairs for when we have gatherings, bringing the chair total up to 8.  WOOT.  Well, they had been sitting in their boxes in the entryway since they were delivered.  I already told Mr. Scrooge he was NOT building them (I just didn't want to have to deal with that drama llama).  So I finally opened the boxes and dumped a chair on the floor to be built.  I also turned on Silicon Valley.  I didn't even get through a whole episode before I got distracted and checked FB and Mr. Scrooge asked if I wanted to ride to Sullivan's Island and go to Poe's for lunch.  Well, yes please.  I told him I needed to shower, but I'd bring him clothes to change into so he didn't have to come all the way home.  I showered and headed to base... and proceeded to wait on him for almost an hour in the cell phone trailer they have in the parking lot at his work (since it was the only shady area nearby).  Also, can we note how creepy it is to be the girl sitting in the cell phone trailer for an hour as people come in/leave the parking lot?  VERY.

FINALLY, after a million minutes, Mr. Scrooge finally escaped work and we headed out to Poe's.  Traffic was complete shit and it was warm, which made it kinda miserable.  The food was satisfactory, but I think next time we should try another one of the restaurants on that strip.  In more shitty blogger status, I didn't take a photo of my food (the burger with egg and bacon because I'm so predictable), but I did catch this super Carolina Douche and promptly questioned Lara about rankings within the Douchary (I officially deem this a word) category and where seersucker shorts ranked.  Fortunately, this guy had them on with a polo rather than a button up with rolled up sleeves, but seersucker shorts.. SERIOUSLY?

Everything was going well until I looked up after taking a bite of food and our "bro" waitress's armpit was practically touching my nose as she put napkins in the condiment holder as she reached across me and my half eaten plate of food.  I almost lost my shit right then.  Mr. Scrooge saw my face when it happened and I think he was worried I was going to throttle her.  I simmered in rage as I listened to her tell the Bros that were at the table beside us (seersucker shorts and other Carolina Douche company) about how she was a better waitress for men than women because she tended to piss women off and guys didn't have any issues with her waitressing style.  Hrm.. imagine that. 

Dudes have no issue with a lack of personal space from a hot chick.. but I definitely have an issue with you not only reaching over my plate of food, but almost touching my face to your armpit when you could have just went around the other side of me and dropped off said item.  She was incredibly lucky Mr. Scrooge was paying because I definitely would have docked her tip for that mess.  He considers tipping his way of buying his way to heaven, so she got the standard 20% he leaves.  She also didn't drop off his card/receipt until he returned from the bathroom.. also smart because I would have happily signed it for him.  #personalboundaries #getsome

After lunch, we headed back home for evening activities which included me actually building the chairs and watching Silicon Valley and vacuuming the house (finally) and doing laundry.  Mr. Scrooge grilled chicken and corn for dinner while I was doing housework.  I also started sewing up a pillow that has needed help for at least the last 2 years, but decided against it and just tossed it (I ripped it in the washer in MD).  I told Mr. Scrooge between his cooking and my laundry and sewing, we almost made a completely domesticated woman.  I found it more amusing than he did.  Meh. 

After a soak in the bathtub, it was finally bedtime.  I probably could have done with one more day of weekend, but I'll accept this one for being pretty awesome.



Happy Monday, Gentle Readers!


Linking up with Weekending w/ B Loved Boston

Being left behind.

This post is going to be full of "feelz" and pretty serious.  Sometimes, I can get into some pretty somber moods, which is probably good because most of the time I'm pretty wacky and crazy and sometimes downright spunky, so the somber times kinda balance me out.

This subject is very hard for me to discuss because its very personal and it pertains to my real life (RL).  The one with my RL friends and their real lives.  My disclaimer for this post is that I'm not angry, upset, disappointed, or any other "feelz" towards anyone (RL friends, blogs I'm subscribed to, people in general, strangers) for what I'm about to discuss.  I'm actually super glad to have the people that I have in my life, at their exact places in their lives.  But this is something I've been thinking about a lot recently.  And since this is my blog and I do what I wawnt..  I want to discuss it.

So WTF am I talking about?

Marriage and babies (not necessarily being in that order or simultaneously).

I've been through 2 addictions of wedding porn.  Not like 2 married people having sex porn, no no.. I mean looking at someone else's wedding and ooh-ing and ahh-ing and wishing and hoping that one day that would be me.  Subscribing to blogs to see what was trendy and hip (and really, bunting?) and how much stuff costs and.. we'll just simply call it "window shopping".  You know, when you walk by the store and see all the shiny stuff in the window but know you won't be buying anything?  That was me.  For several months.  Then I cut myself off.  I called it quits on the wedding porn.  I unsubscribed from the blogs.  I read other stuff.  I moved on and pushed the proverbial box in the back of the closet to let it collect dust (like I did with actual wedding magazines that one time when I was actually engaged).

Then a few months later, I just couldn't help myself.  The bug bit me again and I was back and looking at the wedding porn.  I told myself that I had it under control this time.  I was reading WeddingBee blogs and wishing I could be a Bee.  No JK.  Can we just talk about the fact that I didn't even have a fiance'?  In fact, nothing even close to that level.  The first or the second time.  Yep, under control, ya'll.  I had it totally under control.

Finally, I put my foot down.  I quit looking at the wedding porn, cold turkey.  I quit taking it to heart that everyone but me was getting married.  I quit taking it to heart that everyone but me was getting engaged.  I quit taking it to heart that everyone but me was able to live with (or within a reasonable distance of) their significant other.  I tried to tell myself to stop being jealous, because that's exactly what was happening.  Jealousy.is.NASTY.  (Told you there'd be feelz.)  And by all those declarative statements that "I quit..".  I actually mean, I tried to quit (except for the wedding porn, I definitely quit that, which helped the most).

I mean, I have a good life.  I've written about it before.  How grateful I am for everything I have?  For my American life.  Yet, I'm human, and there's things that I desire that I just haven't accomplished yet.  But even after I tried to quit taking everything to heart, the things that were bothering me started showing up in the mundane details.  Almost everyone I work with is married with kids, except for those who aren't because they choose not to be or are barely even legal.  Lots of the blogs I subscribe to, the writers are married or engaged or living with or within a close proximity of their significant other... or getting pregnant (we'll get to this).  It's hard to find a good single girl blog that doesn't talk about "outfits of the day" or beauty products or getting smashed all the time.  I'm saying it's hard to find someone like me.

Not to say that I'm single, but when you're in a perceptually forever long-distance relationship, where people actually say to you after meeting your boyfriend for the first time, "Oh, he is real, you weren't just making it all up." (jokingly, of course), your relationship status becomes a vague thing where its just easier to be categorized as single than try to keep explaining, "Yes, my BF is looking for a job here so he can move up, but since the civilian market here is pretty much saturated with prior military contractors and military dependents, its tough going."

I know, woe is me.  I'm not asking for my Gentle Reader's sympathy or even apathy.  I'm not really even complaining.  I'm just getting this off my chest... and lets be honest, my chest is big enough without additional baggage.  You've seen pics, it's ok to just agree.

I'm 27 years old.  I'm not really OLD.  I'm not so much YOUNG anymore, but I wouldn't NOT call myself young in comparison to someone who is say, idk, older than 45?  I don't really think 40 is old.  But 30 feels old.  Let me rephrase that.  ME being 30 feels OLD.

Me being 30 = Teh Dad being 56 and Teh Mom being 52.  Even having done the math, I don't view 56 and 52 as being OLD.  Maybe it's because I'm talking about my parents  Maybe its because they don't currently look like they are actually in their 50s/close to it.  IDK, seriously.  Feelz topics are hard, yo.

Maybe ME being 30 feels OLD because I had all these plans.  Plans that never worked out.  Incredulous plans that wouldn't have ever worked out from the moment I created them.  Plans of getting married and having kids.  And I'm not doubting that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be in my life.. but at what point is a girl allowed to get impatient?

So, there is one of my struggles.


On to the next one, on to the next one...  (yeah, I just rapped that for you)

Babies.


I have a friend who knows over 14 women that are pregnant right now.  Several of them are due within days/weeks of each other.  Yes, I know that women all over the world are getting pregnant and having babies, but ONE person knowing THAT many.. Crazy!  I have friends that are on kid number multiple.  I have friends that are pregnant right now.  Even Meredith Grey is having a baby (yes, I went there).

In regards to so much pregnant...  I know that being married and having babies isn't necessarily linked together anymore.  Well, I hate to be a traditionalist feminist (btw, I know Teh Bear is going to make fun of me for calling myself a feminist), but for me...  Marriage and kids are mutually exclusive.    Case closed.

Yes, I might be able to handle 3 dogs simultaneously (maybe barely), but I can say that if I had help with 3 dogs, it'd be a ton easier.  I do it because I like being able to help.  I like being able to maybe say I made a difference.  I like being able to say I helped out a friend (dog-sitting).  I like knowing that in some way, I'm growing from my experiences.

But in my plan.. I was married before 27.  I had started a career before 27.  I might have started a family by 27, or at least discussed starting one.  In that same plan, I had graduated college and gotten a good job.  I never, ever, in a million years, joined the Navy.  I was probably living in North Carolina, but NOT too close to home, home.

I guess what makes me jealous about marriage and babies is that was my plan...  and everyone else is fulfilling my plans.  Yet, I'm not.  I'm not even close in reality.  I'm not even sure I want to have babies anymore (and I'm sure my feelings on this will change again, and with a frequency, as it already has).  Maybe my problem is that my Step 1 (get married) isn't even close, so if my biological clock was actually blaring in my ears, Step 2 (have babies) isn't even possible yet.  Cue, frustration.

I love my life, but sometimes, I feel suffocated by all the desires that I have that I haven't fulfilled.  I feel suffocated by everyone else fulfilling my desires.  I've had to unsubscribe from blogs because I was getting too many wedding/baby posts.  They get me down, yo.  These aren't topics that I should be down about.  Seriously.  I also feel like if I'm purposely seeking these things I desire, I will never find them.  Good things come to those who wait, or whatever.  I mean, live with a purpose but don't focus on one thing.  IMO.

So I wait.  I wait to get orders back to America.  I wait out my time in Bahrain.  I wait on legalities.  I wait on Teh Bear to get a job in MD.  I wait on my own stipulations.  I've waited to wait more and the discouragement looms larger and larger.  No longer on the horizon, but right HERE, right NOW.  Unavoidable.

I put up my umbrella, to trot through the rain, to splash in the puddles.  To weather the storm, faking it till I make it, because good things come to those who wait... and I continue to wonder, did I plan for everyone else's life?  Am I being left behind?  What if I didn't want to be part of that generation who moved out and got married later in life?  I didn't sign up for this.

I'll just keep telling myself this...

Bad blogger.

I've been a bad blogger.  I know it.  I'm not gonna lie, setting up my photo posts to automatically schedule kinda put me on the lazy track.  Recently, I've started to feel more guilty about only posting for my challenge and not posting regularly scheduled, every other day, blogs because I'm posting something, that's how this works?  Right?  Ok fine.

It's hard for me to believe that I've not really checked my stats (which I have this sick obsession with, but also because its a static page that was light colored that would light up my face so my face wasn't blue when I was talking to Teh Bear on skype) since the 23rd.

That feels like SUCH A LONG TIME AGO.  Is that bad?

What has happened since I posted a real blog on the 16/19th?  Well, a lot actually, thanks for asking.  :)

I am officially homeless, carless, and living out of several boxes and my suitcases (in a hotel).  This is the first time since Teh Granny bought Teh Kaar that I've been carless, but the homeless and living out of suitcases is pretty much standard for me at this point in my life.  Is that sad?  Yeah, its the life of moving/PCS-ing every year..

I moved out of my flat.  I sold my car to a local, which was at the time, a good idea, but in retrospect, NEVER sell your car to a local while overseas.. Customs NIGHTMARE, along with a rather convenient lack of understanding English from the buyer.  I hit the single digit mark.  I got most of the signatures on my check out sheet.  I walk to base.  I don't work.  I turned in all my uniforms.  I called Verizon and have cell service again.  I started this thing where I don't have a sleep schedule, I just stay awake for as long as possible and nap so I can get back to a more east coast sleep schedule.  So far, its just really jacked me up.  But, the ultimate goal is to not spend several days sleeping through the day once I get back stateside...  We'll see how this works out.

At home, preparations are being made for my arrival.  Teh Dad is picking up my new vehicle on the 2nd (prepare yourselves for my new car porn post), because he's awesome.  He did all the leg work for me, and every time I talk to him I tell him thank you, but I just don't feel like its enough to really convey how much all he has done means to me.

Maybe I'll just get him this shirt?  (image)

Rides are being arranged, dinners being planned, days of hanging out/shopping are on the books.  The only thing missing is me being in America.

Here's to hoping and praying that the rotator doesn't get delayed and/or weather conditions in Norfolk stay good enough (cold is perfectly acceptable) that the plane can land.

Expect the lightness of posts to continue for at least the next 2-3 weeks, especially with the 30 day challenge being over.  With the lack of sleeping and the PCS-ing brain thing I have going on, I'm struggling to function like a normal individual and that means a several decline in my ability to process words...  Teh Bear can attest to that.

But fret not, Gentle Reader... I will return...  with lots of exclamations about 'Merica and cold and the weirdness that is being stateside for good.  Yes, that was foreshadowing.  You're welcome for that hint, it was free.



YAY 'MERICA!

Preparing for the future

If you weren't aware, November 4th is quickly approaching, hallelujah.  But before November 4th is October 24th and before that is October 4th.  You don't really care about these dates, but I do.  Because Oct 4th and 24th are the days the movers are coming to take my belongings, and you have no idea how NOT excited I am about smelly arabs being in my apartment.

Yellow = moving days, Green = for Courk, Red = VERY IMPORTANT, Black = MD, :) = America!

Do YOU remember?

The only date Teh Sister cares about in October is the 10th.  It's her birthday.  She'll be 21.  It's cool that she was born on a year that ends in zero, because that means whatever number year it is, plus however many decades old she is, that's what number her age is.  It's pretty much the only way I have of keeping up with what year she was born, besides those annoying 10-10-220 ads in the late 90s.  Teh Bear is the same way, sans the born in 1990 part.  Lucky me.

Recently, I made a list of things the movers can take in their first sweep and things that needed to stay behind for the last 20 days.  I have to say, its really hard to sit in your bed and think of all the things you want to have packed away until further notice.  There are also things that are hard to remember, like my big blue circle chair.  I was staring at it the entire time I was making the list, and still didn't see it as something that could be packed, although it can be.

The biggest things area of things that I want to keep for the last 20 days is kitchen stuff.  When I told the personal property guy (PPG) this he said, "Your apartment didn't come furnished?"
tM: Yes.
PPG: It didn't have pots and pans?
tM: ...It had a pan and a dirty spatula, spoon, and small knife.
PPG: Your building owner sucks.
tM: Tell me about it.

The Navy could save a lot of money by reducing money they give sailors in Bahrain for housing.  We can't pocket any of the money, so it all goes to the building owners, unlike with BAH in America.  As an E5, I pay 756BD a month for housing.  Oh, you want that in American?  $2011.96.. EVERY MONTH.  Locals would pay no more than 400BD for the same exact place, but because they know that we're military, they charge as much as we are allowed to get.  Who says that military members are the only ones committing waste, fraud, and abuse?

So because my building owner sucks, I'm having 2 packouts.  PS, I still love my apartment, sans the bugs.

The first one will be stuff that I don't need.  Which will include the love seat and recliner (that have been serving as booster chairs for boxes in the storage room), decorations, picture frames, books, hopefully candles, the floor lamp, big blue circle chair, wrapping box, uniforms that I won't be needing anytime soon..  There's probably more stuff hidden away that I could find to be packed away.  The first shipment is supposed to arrive in MD mid-Nov, so anything that I would like to have as soon as possible should be sent with the first packout.

The 2nd packout will be anything remaining that doesn't get mailed home or packed in my suitcases.  It isn't set to arrive in MD until mid-Dec.  I'm, again, planning on doing the suitcase living for at least 2 months.  Rah.  That should include all my kitchen stuff and whatever clothes don't get put in suitcases.  I'm mailing the uniforms that I'll need in MD to NC, so that way they will be there before I arrive and I can just throw the entire box in the new car with my suitcases, essentially saving valuable suitcase space for more important things.. like pants and sweatshirts.

The difficult part about the entire process is the waiting.  I feel like I can make it sound so simple.  I can plan it out and have everything done before hand if I wanted.  But, it all relies on others, which I super struggle with.  I'm a Type-A control freak.  I'm sure as soon as the movers enter my apartment and start going through everything I'm going to want to freak out on them... instead I'll just light some candles and mutter under my breath while saying, NO that doesn't go.  They will then do their bobble head thing and probably wrap it and put it in a box anyways.

At the end of September, a guy from the moving company stopped by to do a survey on what I'll be moving, so that way he knows what the movers will need to bring for packing stuffs.  He spoke pretty good English, but I doubt any of the movers will understand any of the Southern Drawl that pours from my mouth.  He asked that I have the stuff that I want in the first packout separated so that way its easier for the movers.  What I took that to mean was, they probably won't speak English, so anything you say to them, sans pointing, will be met with the bobble-head-nod and a noxious cloud of body odor.  Grand.

When I had my packout in GTMO, I didn't do anything.  Actually, I just sat on my bed to stay out of the way.  4 Jamaican men were jamming stuff in boxes so quickly that I was mostly in awe.  So this time, I apparently have to help?  Meh.

An organized mess, this is what my dreams of moving look like.  (image)



 *HHG = Household Goods, which can be used interchangeably with personal property..  aka my shit.

Cellular Entertainment

(google images)

I went to medical yesterday.  Like the good little sailor I am, I arrived 15 minutes prior to my 1300 appointment.  All around me people were staring at their cell phones, someone was even playing solitaire on his cell with the teeny tiny cards.  AFN was on the TV, which was playing Dr. Oz, a show that I had never before had to experience.  At 1302 they finally called me back to get my vitals and start my appointment.  I waited 25 minutes on my provider to finally come in, I even had time to lay back and get in a few quick moments of rest/napping in.  I allowed myself some shut eye after reading the blood contamination "what to do" form 2 times through.  I was soooooo bored.  Finally the provider came in, he wrote a new migraine pill prescription for me.  Then it was time for me to endure the waiting area once again while I waited on my prescription to be filled.

This time we were watching Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?  FLEET WEEK!  Rah.. /roll eyes.  As all the ironic moments in my life, the contestant on the TV was a sailor.  I was being tortured by the tv, which is a normal occurrence when I visit medical.  20 minutes longer I had to endure AFN programming and commericals (which are a level of special that most non-military related folks will never experience).

When I went to medical the week prior to the William/Kate Royal Wedding it was on some morning talk show and I had to endure 2 blow out bimbos talking about the wines that were going to be served at the wedding, which of course included a taste test and 2 options that they had to choose which wine would be served.  WHO THE FUCK CARES?!?!  Apparently millions of Americans cared.  Siiiiiiiigh.

And I considered a solution to this common problem, entertainment.  Everyone around me was staring at their little entertainment nuggets, aka their cell phones/idevice.  Where was my cell phone?  Everyone who knows me, knows that Teh Megan always has a cell phone.  Well, I work in a place that doesn't allow cell phones, so often, my phone is either in my car or at my apartment (when I'm at work).  And then I thought, what about the iTouch?  Well, it, too, was in the car, because my work place doesn't allow removable media either, and bringing it to the building to put in a box for the day means the possibility of forgetting it at work.. and after 12 hours of being at work, then the 5 minute walk to the car, if I forget the touch, I ain't going back to get it, and that means 2 trips (although short) without muzaks, and thats the dumps.

There was a point in my life that I didn't BREATHE without the aid of my cellular device.  Since high school, I sleep with my phone beside me.  Mostly due to the fact that my cell doubles as my alarm clock, but also because Teh Megan was is always accessible.

See how the phone is laying on me? 
That's the way it should be.

My first phone was awesome, before all these new fangled camera phones..  It was a flip-down phone.  It had pretty awesome games, including one where you shot down enemy planes.  Verizon made me upgrade though, because the phone was so old, and I got a phone with blackjack AND it had speaker phone, woah.  Then I was inducted into the camera phone club.  The games on that one sucked.  I got several upgrades (to include a phone that you could put a micro SD card in) before I finally became a real adult and got a Blackberry, but because I was still fighting it, I got the Pearl, which was amazing because no one knew how to use the keyboard which meant they really couldn't use my phone.  I survived bootcamp with no cell phone, and the entire time I would hear phantom text message sounds, it was VERY freaky.

After I got to a/c school in VA Beach, I wasn't allowed to have my phone with me during school, so it got left in my room or in my car (when I could drive).  It was a very hard separation process, but my phone was always on me when I could have it.  Crackberry?  Yes, I had a problem. 

Guantanamo Bay, Cuba (google images)

Then GTMO happened.  GTMO barely has usable internet, cell phone service was available, but you had to pay a ridiculous amount for it per month and you often had bad reception and sometimes you couldn't call from one end of the base to the other because of reception issues.  No cell phone was to be had.  It was crushing.  Suffocating actually.  How would I communicate with people?  Gmail.  How would I research things while I was at the store?  You don't.  How would I entertain myself while I was waiting on something like for an appt or dinner to arrive??  You bring someone with you.  WTF?!?! 

Apparently, land lines were the way of my backtracking future.  And I learned something..  I didn't have to be available all the time (Teh Bear really likes proving this point while I'm cruising TFLN during dinner).  It was ok.  I could miss calls and I could survive not being in constant communication with everyone I know.  How many hours of my life had I wasted on checking my cell for text messages that weren't there?  How many upset moments had there been when someone hadn't called me?  I learned to live without the Crackberry, until I went on leave and got addicted all over again.  But getting back to GTMO life resumed in its normal landline way.  Asking to borrow someone's phone to call someone who you needed to talk to.  Or even just going back to my room to call the Ginger or Miss Reflective and the rest of the brunch gang on Sundays after mass.  It wasn't really all that complicated.  Actually, it was better.  Nothing was bothering me when I didn't want to be bothered!  :)

Then came Bahrain.  Because we're such a big deal here, everyone has to have a working recall number.  You have to answer the phone when someone calls you.  Otherwise, you aren't accounted for, and thats UA, shipmates and battleships and homies.  I hate having a cell phone now, and not carrying it with me where ever I go is a relief. 

But I was bored as hell in medical, and I had even stooped low enough to endure watching morning talk shows and game shows involving kids.  It made the relief of not having an electronic device, whether it was the cell or the itouch, maybe not so much worth it.  Are there actually people who choose to watch Dr. Oz or Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?  If so, whyyyyyy?

me after enduring AFN programming (google images)