Hibernation

Today, as predicted by our weather system and my father, it snowed. And I, as predicted by me, hibernated for the majority of the day. Much like the monks who take vows of silence, I too have made a commitment. Except mine is to not ever being unnecessarily cold or uncomfortable.

This snowstorm was a little more intense than the Horrible Freeze, which can be viewed here. I enjoyed looking at them both through the window in my pajamas.

Actually neither one would be classified as a snowstorm unless you're from Southern California, in which case today was an Catastrophic Apocalyptic Blizzard. Best to stay indoors, and under blankets if possible.

Several people have warned me to stay off the roads and to exercise extreme caution when driving. Thank you for your concern people, but it is entirely unfounded. I have decided to spend the entirety of this Winter season indoors, and to venture out only when in need of Fat Free Cool Whip. When Spring rolls around, I'll reassess the outside situation then.

This hibernation is made possible by the fact that the most pressing responsibility I have is returning the Netflix videos so that we can get new ones on a regular basis. And I took care of that obligation yesterday.

Although I am completely committed to my hibernation, I did venture out briefly this afternoon, wearing completely weather inappropriate clothing, to take some pictures. Here is the result of my finger numbing exploration.

This is looking out our porch balcony across the street. People FLY around that corner and make such terrible screeching noises with their tires that I am constantly running to the window to see whose been killed and how many ambulances will be needed.

Man I wish a squirrel lived in this tree. Doesn't it look like the perfect squirrel tree?

Our staircase looks totally lethal and deadly with snow on it.

It snowed so hard that they closed the base at 1100 and everyone got to go home for the day and smirk at their wives from balconies while wearing glorified pajamas. When I asked if he wanted to come down and play in the snow with me he declined saying that he'd already had a chance to "play in the snow" this morning during PT (physical training).

If I were an Eskimo I'd call this Cotton Ball snow.

This is our trash can. We are completely negligent with taking the trash out to the street. I had to put a reminder in my Blackberry because we forgot so many times in a row. Although I know I am complaining, I can tell you right now that I will NOT be the one doing it this week. No sir.

Photographers are totally obsessed with rusty things. I don't know what it is. Something to do with documentation, the psychological preservation of atrophy, the visible chemical disintegration and the whole finding beauty in ordinary objects thing.

I just cannot pass up taking a photo of rust.

This is where my organic urban vegetable and small flower garden is going to go. There's going to be hanging plants and window boxes. I'm going to get a porch swing and a small table and sit out there in the sun and do crossword puzzles and drink ice tea in the heat and sweat all Summer.

Whenever this bullshit Winter nonsense is over, of course.

V-Day 2010, Part II

Last week was Valentine's Day, and as part of my new pro-active, anti-depression life plan I CELEBRATED Valentine's Day. Totally novel concept, I know, I am kind of a ground breaker. When I had a hundred things going on in my life, I didn't give a FIG about holidays, Valentine's Day in particular. But now that I have a permanent Valentine and nothing going on, silly holidays have gotten promoted to the most important thing on the agenda. I CANNOT FREAKING WAIT FOR ST. PATRICK'S DAY you guys. It's gonna be big.

Here's how it went down:

1) Saturday (Day before V-Day) 1300 hrs

I sneak out of the house with 20 bucks (in cash) by telling the Specialist that I am going to the gym. Hahahaha! What a sucker! In truth, I go to the Dollar Tree store and spend every cent on garish red and white decorations. Then I go to the gym for real, look at myself in the mirror for 20 minutes and head home. He has no clue. I deceived a Specialist in the UNITED STATES ARMY you guys, the most advanced military force this planet has ever seen just got outsmarted by a GIRL. I am the coolest. I hide the bag of decorations in the closet behind the vacuum, for obvious men-are-so-dumb reasons. Not only does he have no reason to go into the closet where the cleaning supplies are, he doesn't actually KNOW where that is, like he can't actually SEE the closet. If I asked him right now to pull out the vacuum, he'd suddenly need to go outside and "check on his car" or for some other highly vague, completely false reason. Mark my words, Bin Laden is hiding behind cleaning supplies somewhere.

2) Saturday (Day before V-Day) 2000 hrs

We go out to dinner at a local restaurant where they put a roll of paper towels on your table in addition to napkins. It was super small and super cute and super Texas. They gave us cornbread and didn't serve any liquor. But the waitress said we could "bring it on in and HEB is just across the street". Was she kidding? I still don't know. Anyways we settle on a couple of Diet Dr. Peppers, a catfish plate, a shrimp platter, the oysters and fries. The fries obviously were fried, and lucky for me so was everything else! Yay for that. I don't know if it was because it was Valentine's Day, or because we just worked up a killer appetite by doing a marathon around Wal Mart, or maybe because we hadn't been out to eat in an eternity but everything was absolutely delicious. Crawdaddy's Cajun Grill is my new favorite place in Texas. Well my only favorite place in Texas, no offense Texas. Oh! and the Bread Pudding, OH YEAH BABY THE BREAD PUDDING!!!

3) Saturday (Day before V-Day) 2200 hrs

I get a Valentine's Day card after dinner. It's perfect. I am told not to take pictures because that would be a "gross invasion of privacy". He obviously doesn't know about the gross invasion of privacy album I've been keeping.

4) Sunday (V-Day) 0900 hrs

I wake up to McDonald's in bed. It's the best thing ever, heavenly. Why can't we start every day with Cinnamon Melts and Chicken Biscuit Breakfast combos with Hash Browns? Well because I'd be morbidly obese by next week. But every once in a while, its nice to start the day by being a fat kid in bed.

5) Valentine's Day Proper

After awaking from the food coma brought on by McDonald's Chicken Biscuit Breakfast combo, I begin to put Operation Go Get Me Something From The Store into play. It totally works, he falls willingly into my plot. I write a list of items I totally already have, but know it will take him forever to find. The list includes things like 6 Organic Brown Eggs, a small bottle of Dark Rum etc. He's out of the house for a good 2 hours. I take the opportunity to break out the decorations.

My decorating strategy included doilies, glittery stuff, red heart napkins....

streamers....

fake roses....

streamers....

and streamers.

You guys, living inside Streamerville: Population 2 was so much fun! I kept it up a few extra days. And then I got used to it, so I kept it up a little longer. And then our landlord stopped by to fix one of the burners on my stove and I had to explain to him why our apartment looked like a slutty 8th graders birthday party. And then I took all the decor down pretty quick.

For dinner I made Cornish Game Hens that eventually were pretty tasty. I say eventually because they took a full hour and half longer than I expected in the oven. We didn't eat until 2300 hrs. I cried just a little because it took so long and the whole day was obviously ruined, but the Specialist has gotten really good at responding to the first indication of tears and acting accordingly. Actually I think that was part of his training in Arizona.

So in conclusion to another exceedingly long post, here's what I learned from Valentine's Day:

1) I have to make my own happiness here. If I want a Valentine's Day, then I'm going to have to make a Valentine's Day. These things don't just happen and its unfair to expect the Specialist to hunt Al Qaida and make me a Valentine's Day all at the same time. Besides, he can't hide decorations from me, I'm a genius.

2) Meat thermometers don't lie. It's not broken and you're not reading it wrong. If it says 130 degrees then the internal temperature of your Cornish Game Hen is bloody and raw. And if you take it out and serve it to someone then you can't cry when its bloody and raw because thats exactly what the brand new Martha Stewart Meat Thermometer told you it was. Regardless of how hungry you are, or how long the small birds have been in the oven, meat thermometers don't lie.

V-Day 2010, As Successful As D-Day 1944

As I lay around in a bathrobe looking at the wonderful sticky mess left over from our first Valentine's Day this morning, I can't help but feel quite victorious. It was messy, sure, and there we're some bumps along the road, in truth I almost called the whole thing off in a moment of panic but just as I'm sure General Eisenhower felt after successfully taking the Normandy shore, it was all totally worth it.

Perhaps it would be best to apologize now to any WWII veterans who may accidentally be reading this, as I intend to continue to draw analogies between a bloody battle where many brave American lives were lost and what should realistically be called a really lovely weekend during which I was happy.

However, now is not the time for realism (yuck) or history (yuck) we're talkin' bout Valentine's Day (yay!). A day of ridiculous expectations, unrestrained consumerism and unbridled romance (yay, yay, yay!)

Now in our first Valentine's day as a married unit, just as in many other "firsts" we've shared, there is a certain inherent expectation. A standard setting, if you will, for this will be the Valentine's Day against which all others will be judged. In other words, now is not the time for small, or subtle or subdued lest I spend the rest of my life saying, "Wow, honey. This Valentine's Day was even more subdued than last year. Yawn. Let's stop having sex."

Some of you who are "doing the math" as they say, may be wondering, "What about Valentine's Day last year? How did you mark the occasion in 2009?"

The answer to that question is "poorly". Last year we got into our first serious argument. It's a very archetypal argument, for us. This is the one in which I end up sounding like an outrageous slut and he ends up sounding like an uptight Catholic. That's what we did last year, thank you very much for asking.

All the more reason to plan ahead for this year. Since I've got nothing but time on my hands, I did a little Internet research and was surprised to find a number of women in the Mommy Blog category who claimed not to care about Valentine's Day. I was stunned, my misconceptions we're shattered as I read time and time again things like "Everyday is Valentine's Day when you're married to the man you love." Or even more sickeningly, "I have the kind of husband who brings me flowers throughout the year, so Valentine's Day doesn't really matter to me."

To that sentiment I say "VARGUS". "Vargus" on you people (Uncle Richie). Everyday is not Valentine's Day, everyday is everyday and VALENTINE'S DAY is February 14th, get a calendar! And if you have the kind of husband who brings you flowers throughout the year then you really should tell him to stop because that is a ridiculous waste of money. The recession may be technically over but we're not all about to go out and snort cocaine off the hoods of our new Lamborghini's! Let's show some restraint.

Fine, fine, fine who am I to tell you how to spend your money? Waste it on flowers and hookers and water bottles at the movies if you want to. But even if everyday was Valentine's Day at my house, it most certainly is not by the way, I would still want something just a little bit special on the day when everyone else in society is being gay with the ones they love. I'm all for shunning unnecessary social conventions (we did get married on a Wednesday after all) but this one happens to be nice and harmless and just fun! And besides, I don't have a husband who brings me flowers unprovoked. I have a husband who "breaks shit and kills people for a living", and I like it that way just fine (CSM Felt 12/09).

For the record he hasn't actually broken anything or killed anyone yet, unless you count the loofah that allegedly "fell apart as I was using it normally" he said.

Now like any successful military campaign this one began ahead of time and with some well placed propaganda. Wary of repeating the horrible tragedy that was Christmas 2009 and New Year's 2009 and aware of the risk of sinking back into the listless fog of regret I had so recently come out of; I became adamant that we "do something" to mark the occasion. He protested, he whined, he played dumb, he dodged questions and he groaned when pressed for ideas. I persisted.

Finally, after much prodding, it became clear that the situation was hung up on "I do actually love you but just really don't know what to do" and not the dreaded "I don't actually love you and therefore would like to do nothing" as the tiny insecure voice in my head would have me believe.

On Friday night, we settled on a course of action. Saturday night I would be treated to a restaurant meal (in the civilian world) and a small card. Sunday night, I would have the pleasure of cooking Cornish game hens and watching Gone With The Wind at my leisure throughout the day. Perfect, negotiations concluded amicably, both sides left satisfied and prepared for what was going to be expected of them in the days to come.

But just like any military campaign, it is the "unknown unknowns" that hold the power to turn the tide (VP Cheney, 2/02 ). Or ruin dinner, in this case. Stay tuned for Part 2 of V-Day 2010, As Successful as D-Day 1944, as this post is already exceedingly long and I am in need of a nap. If I can get my act together, I'll include some pictures, but don't get your hopes up.

Happy Monday:)

Footnotes

"Vargus"

Character on Seinfeld episode, "The Bizarro Jerry"

Coined as a curse by my Uncle Richard.

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=516949&id=1209439723

CSM Felt 12/09

At a "Welcome to Fort Hood" meet and greet at the Backbone NCO Lounge, CSM Felt delivered a very rousing and enthusiastic welcome that included use of the word "hooah" 738,302,751 times.

http://www.hood.army.mil/leaders/bios/Felt.pdf

VP Cheney 2/02

"As we know, There are known knowns. There are things we know we know. We also know. There are known unknowns. That is to say we know there are some things We do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns, the ones we don't know we don't know."
-Feb. 12, 2002

Department of Defense news briefing

http://www.washingtondispatch.com/article_6676.shtml

An Incomplete List

THINGS MY HUSBAND DOESN'T LIKE

Puerto Ricans.

"Why are they so proud of their heritage? They've never done anything to be proud of."

Green Bell Peppers. The other colors are acceptable.

The French.

The people, the country, the culture, the language, the cuisine, everything.

People Who Claim That They Speak A Language More Proficiently Than Someone Else.

People Who Want To Talk About Wine.

Elitism.

Pajamas That Match.

Jeans and how "everyone wears them!" The phenomenon is so outrageous to him.

10 Day Vacations.

Apple Computers.

Fruits.

They're "over-rated".

People Who Walk For Exercise.

Tattoos.

Time Warner Cable.

Nacho Cheese.

The Cold/Being Cold.

Anything That Costs More Than 5 Dollars.

Telemundo.

Holidays.

(Christmas, Valentine's Day....all of them)

Hippies/Hipsters/Yuppies.

Organic Anything.

Vegans/Vegetarians.

Corporate Philanthropy.

"Instead of donating money to charity, why can't they just give me a cheaper product?"

Bottled Water/Filtered Water.

Celebrities.

Teenage Celebrities.

With the exception of Taylor Swift, he knows all her songs. But he calls her "Swift Taylor".

Teenagers.

Onions.

Carbohydrates and Simple Sugars.

Things That Are Marketed As Being "All Natural".

He prefers chemicals, actually he loves chemicals.

Lines/Waiting

Cable News Networks

Children Who Run Near Him

"Look at that one, he's careening out of control."

Inefficiency

Romantic Comedies

Fat People

Do you see what a fine line I have to walk here?

God forbid a French Child runs past him while waiting in line for a Romantic Comedy starring a Teenage Celebrity who has a Tattoo behind a bunch of Fat People who smell like Onions, who are talking about Wine and Corporate Philanthropy and wearing Jeans.

I'd have to talk him down off a ledge.

And these are just the things I can think of off the top of my head.

A Heart Warming Tale of Love and Devotion

In addition to a very nice comprehensive Government-run health care program, being a fringe member of the military community has afforded me access to some top quality gossip. This juicy tidbit is courtesy of the Military.com newsletter that gets emailed to me way too often. Enjoy.

Dear Ms. Vicki,

"I've been married for 13 years and my husband has been in the Navy for 14 years. We have one child together. Recently I was contacted by a woman who stated that she was his fiancée and that she also had a 5-year-old child with him.

"I informed her that he was married to me and she was shocked stating that she was in the process of moving to where he was stationed to live with him.

"When I confronted him he didn't deny he had a child with her, but stated he was lying to her about other things. However he was going to see her on the weekends since they already lived hours away.

"My son and I live in another state and he always has an excuse about why we can't live with him. I need to know how these some men who serve our country can be allowed to treat their families with such disrespect. Who can I report him to because I believe he is using the military as a way to get away with his double life? Any answers you can give me will be greatly appreciated."

Sincerely,

KW

Whenever I read something like this, I try to find the one or two things that I don't have in common with this poor unfortunate soul.

For example, right now I'm telling myself that this could never happen to me because 1) This guy was Navy and mine is Army. Totally, totally different. 2) This woman has a child and I have no child. Also making this a completely different situation.

Isn't denial fun?

The Teeest Thing

Recently, whilst unpacking some of my own personal boxes, full of my own personal things for my own personal use I was interrupted by the Specialist holding something mischeviously behind his back.

After threatening to bite him (I fight dirty) he handed me the one thing I would grab before running out the door if our house was on fire.

It was The Teeest Thing! or TTT, if you prefer.

And if you're in the military you probably do.

The Army is obsessed with acronyms, and its totally contagious.

As I disintegrated into a puddle of small noises and tears of joy and happiness I was instantly brought back to a time, about this time, last year when all this Army stuff/Marriage stuff started happening in a very real way.

A little background info:

Now, when we first got together, he was finishing his Master's in something and I was finishing my Bachelor's of Fine Art in Photography. After we both graduated in December, he went and got a teaching job in Irvine with a private institute specializing in ESL or English as a Second Language. He taught academic English to adults who already had a basic understanding of English. His students were a mix of Korean housewives, Thai college students, and Japanese businessmen.

So all during our casual dating phase (I like to call it the Irresponsible Sex Phase or ISP) that quickly transitioned into serious dating which became a rapid engagement culminating in Lets-Get-Married-On-Wednesday Wednesday, he would go to work in the morning and engage his class in conversations that included his personal life. I doubt they discussed our irresponsible sex, but I know they talked about marriage and his decision to join the Army.

During the 4 months when things got real real, his students were like this little panel of foreigners who encouraged him and supported him in this life changing decision to get married and enlist. I've never met these people, but our little love story resonated with them.

See! Love is totally, totally the universal language. Jodi Foster from the movie Contact was way wrong. She thought it was math or science or some baloney like that.

Anyways, his class marked the beginning of a growing wave of people who supported us even though what we had decided to do was in every way crazy. Totally bat shit crazy.

Fast forward, or rewind actually, depending on which way you're going, to the last day of class on the last day of the semester. They gave him a 5 lb bag of Gummi Bears, this wedding card and instantly became my favorite group of real people whom I've never actually met.

They're my FGORPWINAM, and I love them.

Just look at how precious this is.

And look at the bride! She's a redhead!

Here's some of the things my FGORPWINAM wrote on the inside:

Jinhee's is my favorite. She writes, "I bet you are a good husband."

Whenever he's being especially nice or cute or funny, I just want to call Jinhee and tell her,

"You were totally right dude, he's a pretty good husband."

I can't even begin to express how happy this little thing makes me.

I put it on the fridge so I can look at it every time I go for a pudding snack.

The Gummi Bears got stashed on the bottom shelf of the right side of my mother's pantry, behind the Juice Machine. If anyone needs a Gummi Bear fix, now you know where to go.

Tee!