Maiden Magnetic

Thank you.

2011-11-11T07:25:00.001-08:00

I can never pass up an opportunity to say thank you to our veterans and their families. I love our service members and I love our country.

On a more personal note... I never thought I would have to tell my daughter not to eat so much sausage at once. Her life just flashed before my eyes. I'm going to need more fire arms in the house. God bless America!

Gone again, gone again. What shall I do?

2011-10-19T20:42:00.000-07:00

When you’re with me, I hold you tight. I smell your neck, I love the night.
When I’m alone, slumber seems unreal. Your touch is a memory, surreal.
I grab the sheets; I smell the thread… unholy torture, this lonely bed.
To toss and turn is some respite, to wear me out of this late fright.

Rugby...

2011-06-21T18:45:00.002-07:00

I like it.
I love it.
I wanna ruck the shit out of it.
MmMMmmm, I love odd-shaped balls!

Stand up.

2011-06-21T18:29:00.000-07:00

My personal opinion:

Craig Ferguson- way to be funny and not give a shit. For the most part. He thinks he's more 'adorable' than he really is. But I fuckin LOL'd and had a good, lonely time.

Whitney Cummings- I tried to watch her gig and her voice was so annoying that I wanted to tie her to a chair and punch her in the vagina. Other than her horrible chalk-board-voice she thought she was funny talking about women being bitches, but she was just a bitch.

Louis C.K.- Currently watching and very entertained. I'm always impressed when one human is able to put their pride aside for an audience just to tell them about their... umm... shit. HA!

This lonely nerd...

2011-06-17T19:33:00.000-07:00

Is going to bed.

I thought about playing video games and having another drink. I thought about writing an amusing letter to Husband. I even thought about cleaning something... briefly. But then I decided that my gremlins would probably appreciate a half conscious mommy in the morning. So, Goodnight.

Yeah... so. About that.

2011-06-17T19:30:00.001-07:00

Thanks, Chive.

Howdy Neighbor

2011-06-17T18:56:00.000-07:00

I'm currently sitting on the deck outside my bedroom. It's so fucking beautiful here. I live on a goddamn lake. We have otters floating on their backs, we have fish jumping up for the bugs on the surface. My dock is loaded with the neighbors kayaks so that who ever wants to jump in a paddle out, they are welcome. It's beautiful.

Every single one of my neighbors is a veteran. EVERY one. Across the street, we have retired SF Hombre. The first night we moved in to this awesome fucking house Husband went to take out the garbage from the new-move-debris. 3 hours later he comes sauntering in with a new, middle-aged friend looking for some more booze and an igniting element for some C-4. I laugh and drink and laugh. There is a measure of excitement for our new, exciting world. The men who had came through my new home seconds earlier had been goofing about the neighbor who was head of the home owners association and how funny it would be to set explosives off of his dock. I continue to laugh and drink thinking: men will be men. And then an hour later the windows in the new house shudder and shake. They did it. They really set some shit off on this guys dock.

Then a couple of nights later we're sitting on our dock after the kids have gone to bed, we're drinking... every one's drinking. Husbands best friend from four hours south is visiting. He's a Ranger turned fire-fighter. Hombre and his wife are over. Everyone is having some semblance of drunken/ sophisticated chit chat until Hombre says 'Fuck this, I'm jumping in the lake. Come one you pussies!'Soooo... we all jump in the goddamn lake. Meanwhile, our immediate neighbors to my current 3'oclock think that someone had too much to drink and fell in the water. They turn on all their porch lights and ask if every one's OK. Hombre's immediate reaction is 'Turn that fuckin light off! We're trying to swim out here!' or something like that.

3'oclock is forever butt-hurt. They were only concerned and thus treated like church-going-party-poopers. All of this occurred last fucking August and now Husband and Hombre are both away for work, in different ways. Only now am I achieving some semblance of civilized neighborly relations with 3'oclock. Oy.

My morning dump.

2011-06-17T04:04:00.000-07:00

I should change the name of my blog, heh.

I'm multitasking now, that's for sure. I'll be on my way to traffic court here in a bit. Apparently when I moved to one of the five different states I've lived in during the past seven years I finally lost track of one of my vehicle registrations. Now I'm trying to file for registration in my home state just to keep it simple but it's taking weeks. Here's hoping for one more continuance.

The first time I went to court here I was so nervous. I didn't know what to expect and I really didn't want to lose my license over something stupid. So I went all out: business skirt and heels, organized folders, I actually wore earings for shits sake. When I got to the lobby of the court room the gaurd told me to just sign in and take a seat. When I entered the courtroom I was shocked to find 90% of the 40+ people in the room were fat larpy rednecks. Some in pajamas, most with an ass-crack hanging out. I was definitely over dressed for the party.

To be continued...

*flush* muahaha

Update:
Got the continuance. Was self-nominated best-dressed once again. Now I'm just curious to see if they'll give me another continuance. Maybe I can put this off 'til we move to KY. Just kidding... I'm more responsible than I give my self credit for.

To all things, a purpose.

2011-06-07T19:51:00.000-07:00

Wasn’t this kind of torment meant to leave me by the end of high school?

When I was a teenager I did a lot of drugs, smoked a lot of weed, popped the pills and drank the booze. I smoked all the time and I never banged anyone because I thought all the dudes trying to get their fingers down my zipper were evil predators. I knew it was wrong. I hated everyone I knew. I hated myself. I knew, for a fact, that there was no way I would live past fifteen. I lived life accordingly. What would you do if you had already decided you had maybe two or three years left to live with no hope? I ran my own life. Being so young, I didn’t have to worry about bills, rent, family. It was only me and I was selfish. But at the same time I figgered, hey, if no one cares about me, why should I care about me? Abandon hope, ye who enter adolescence.

Abandonment. No one with a conscience ever wants to admit that they’ve abandoned something in their life; goals, commitments, relationships… morals. What happened when I turned fifteen? I died. Was it God? Was it youthful exuberance and painful desperation? Was it just the pitiful need to get my ass to church because maybe if I could at least be allowed out of the house I would be able to bum just one fucking cigarette? God, I hated those years of my life. I hated being alone. Surrounded by countless fuckheads just to look around and see nothing. I see people integrate all around me. I see people that seem happy with their social and emotional wealth. When did I start listening to Feist? When did I trade my fearlessness for a timidity that I can’t explain? Have I just inhaled too many ass-fumes from changing five-ten diapers a day for the past few years?

There comes a time in life, at least for me, when I have to question if I have really found the balance I have forever sought. Normal feels wrong. Immorality feels wronger. Here I am influencing the lives of small, beautiful, wide-eyed gremlins and I don’t know what to tell them. It is a weakness I battle on a daily basis. Do I train them to be fierce warriors that will stand up for whatever they are passionate about? Or do I equip them to play the game of integration. A lot of questions, I know. But perhaps I’ll sleep better tonight just for the asking.

Your mom.

2011-06-06T04:15:00.000-07:00

First of all, fuck you morning. Every damn day, you just keep coming back. Nobody likes you. And the people that do, well… probably don’t have kids. And the people that do have kids, and still like mornings, fuck you too.

Here I am again, blog, in that strange ass-crack of life where this is the only place I have to rant, bitch, vent. I guess it’s not the only place I have, but at least I’m comfortable here. Where do I begin? It has been about a month since my last confession. And then I have sinned by leaving weird, incomplete poetry in its wake. I can’t help but laugh smugly to myself. Haha at you for reading it. But seriously, to those who still check in here, bless you, ya sweet weirdos!

Husband has been gone about a month now. He’s in SUT training for the SF Q-course. Sometimes I forget what a badass he is. For the most part I just see the beer drinking, video game playing, kid-rhompasing nerd. And then it’s like ‘Oh, you have to go learn how to be a ninja now? Alright… I’ll be here when you get back.’ While I pick my nose and drink coffee like a schlub. He keeps promising he’ll teach me everything he’s learning when he gets back, but we both know that our free time (aka, when kids are sleeping) defaults to beer drinking and video game playing. I miss my best friend.

Have I mentioned lately that I don’t like people? We’ve been here since last August and I’ve had a lot of mom-friends come and go. For those of you that don’t understand what a mom-friend is, let me define:

Mom-friend – That chick you see at the park that has kids similar to your kids' age. Upon first impression you quickly size up multiple factors (think of dating). Is she fit? If so this is a good indicator that she won’t be sitting on your couch while you play with her kids in the event of a playdate. Is she bitching at her kids or do they seem like an easy going family? Are her kids playing nicely with mine? Then you do the friendly smile/ wave that says ‘Our kids are playing together, this is your warning that we’re going to have to make small talk about diapers, what’s-the-best-preschool-around-here, aww-your-kids-are-so-cute. Blah blah blah. Let’s have a playdate some time’. And then you get together every now and then but never actually have a full conversation because there are about 3-4 tiny gremlins circling your feet as you climb the furniture and try to escape their little gnashing teeth and grabbing, sticky hands.

That’s a mom-friend. They can eventually evolve in to an actual friend but this is less common. Especially when you live in an area where there is a shit-ton of military families and all these bitches keep running home to their family when hubby leaves, or their hubby gets orders to PCS, whatever. There is an extremely rare case where a mom-friend can be allowed to know who you really are without being scared away. The things you may want to keep in your pocket and save for a later time include: Drinking, light moderate or heavy, this is something that can make or break a potential mom-friend relationship. Always never tell a mom-friend that you are an avid WoW player. There are way too many moms out there that resent the fact that their hubby plays it when they could be watching Grey’s Anatomy and snuggling. Or even worse, there might be the mom that has been stuck with gremlins while their hubby is raiding or some shit.

*Note- If there are any hubby’s out there placing video games before family and scorning your wife then you are Douchebag. And wives, if your husband is a gamer and you are not, try playing with him for a little bit, it could do wonders for your marriage.

Anyways, hubby and I are big-time-closet-gamers. It just doesn’t go over well with all these hyper-alpha personalities in the super-human American league trying to become SF (this is me laughing smugly again). Just to throw a tangent in a tangent, I feel a need to say that playing video games is the new gay. You can be openly gay in the military now, but don’t fuckin tell ANYone that you’ve got an 85 priest. You know you’re all out there. Why do we have to hide from each other? And if you have a community of gamers that support you, be thankful. I lost my point… Ummm. Moms!

Moms are a necessary evil. The need for mom-friends is even worse. I don’t like kids, but I love and adore my spawn. For some reason that is beyond me, they love people. They didn’t get this noble trait from their parents. So I do my best to socialize them. And I actually do pretty damn well considering small talk (especially about potty training) is like torture to me. And I’ve tried getting real and honest at the play ground, just to see who would stick around. Unfortunately, that approach tends to make people skitter. There was one really cool chick I met who seemed desperate for a genuine conversation as well. We became instant friends. I liked her a lot and hope we meet again someday because (big fucking surprise here!) their family had to PCS.

I think what I’m trying to get at is that I’m currently in the social flux where I have no mom-friends. I’m in the market. I’m dating. I’m getting out there and I’ve gotten a lot of numbers. People are interested. I’m a catch. In case you’re reading this and wondering: no, there was no housing available on post. I live in an awesome community with lakes to swim in and nature to be explored. I love it here. And the sun is officially up now, so it’s time for me to suit up and get ready to put on my best sane-person impression. Aren’t we all?

If you're returning or new

2011-05-27T22:18:00.000-07:00

I feel I must warn
whatever you hoped
was temporary scorn
is here to stay
in a most painstaking way
permanent, hopeless, beneficial
to my
supportive growth
be it forehead or groin
be it spleen or appendage not known
to some strange abyss
you're involuntarily thrown

When you are lonely
when you may be intoxicated
when you have only
the precisely
abbreviated
do you pursue decency
or do you neglect
the things which have
no sway
or effect

These days noobs call it emo.

2011-05-22T20:00:00.000-07:00

Close your eyes
You know you want to
Just the promise of someone genuine
You want to seek peace
You seek a release
Yet your soul bares something more real
You look for solace
You look for blameshift
You might seek a hero or heroin
But before lies
something you despise
And all along it was
You.

Huh?

2011-05-22T19:51:00.000-07:00

Two shadows stand before one another. The first says: I'm here to torment. The next says: I'm here to reveal. Then the first replies: What difference is there? and the second reels back and reveals: I'm not here for you, I'm not here for me. I simply come here to show you the discrepancy between life and death. And the first lunges forth and snarls teeth bare: Why must you desecrate a life so foreign and rare? And Second recoils and reveals it's spoils and turns to worthless dust. And the First has realized it's position in trials and decides it must be: Thus.

Dormant Psycho Personality

2011-05-09T17:39:00.001-07:00

There are times when it comes out. Too much to drink. Not enough friends. But there is one element that can coax the monster. This element is stabbing my heart, choking my breath of love and pissing and shitting in my bed. If I could have it my way, upon entering this web page expecting glowing white words, in their place some strange enraged beast would come tearing through your computer screen as you read this. Drool flooding unabashedly, eyes wide and red and digital words exploding before you. My mate has been called away and I want nothing more than to create a path of fearsome destruction billowing behind me as I stomp and trudge through dark terrain until I find scent of my love and embrace his shocked and tired body and just fucking tear back home and become a soft loving wife once more.

Oh, and another thing...

2010-11-12T10:48:00.000-08:00

Since I wasn't here yesterday. Happy Veterans Day.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to all who have, are, and will serve our country. Those who are gone will never be forgotten. Those who are fighting now, my prayers are with you. Those who are home safe with family and friends, my heart wells with joy for your many blessings.

That's all.

Echos of Sept. 22

2010-11-12T10:28:00.000-08:00

Every time I come to my own blog I remember September 22. I don't always want to. Even now as the tears come to my eyes all the memories come rushing through my brain like a fucking hurricane. Then I start writing and I wonder when the fuck I became so emo. I haven't watched the news in a long time. I haven't been reading. I haven't been writing. What the fuck have I been doing? Oh yeah... potty training one. Wiping the others' ass. Play dates. Cooking. Cleaning. Husband lovingly calls me 'Mommy-rella'. Not to be demeaning, he just recognizes how domesticated I've had to be. We all make sacrifices and mine are minimal compared to countless numbers.

And then there was rugby. One night after I got the gremlins to bed I googled 'women's rugby' in my area. I've never played before but I needed an outlet. So I e-mailed the chick and she said come on out. I fell in love. Where else can dikes, school teachers, housewives and medics come together and beat the shit out of each other and then drink beer? I suck at it (not the beer drinking...). I have a lot to learn. But man, it's so much fun. And now I have something all to my self so that when I look my spawn in the eye's come morning I no longer feel like they have sucked the life out of me. Try as they might.

I've also been exposed to a variety of different parenting styles of late. I am typically someone that craves perspective and.. shit. I just got bored with my self. Maybe I'll come back to this one in a little bit.

Other such things

2010-11-12T10:19:00.001-08:00

Occupying my time...

I don't mean to sound like a fag er nuthin, but there's just something peaceful about focusing on the details of a strangers' face. There's still lots of work to do on this one...

Withering Blog

2010-10-20T12:41:00.000-07:00

I need to water this place with more booze... it has almost lost all of it's life and color. I think it might be time to nurse it back to health.

Testes... Testes... one, two.

2010-10-17T19:37:00.000-07:00

Holy shit have I got a bag of bones
In my closet, close to you
In hiding, in silence
Don't be scared just look behind
Your shadow, yes right there
In the corner, meet your coroner
Don't you cry
Just bare it all
I see your skeleton bare, now
Are you ready for a scare?
You think that some horror
is coming
But the horror is already there

Happy Halloween.

Fuck Disney.

2010-09-03T19:18:00.000-07:00

Fuck, fuck, fuck Disney. What a blatantly filthy corporation. Selling sex to kids at the youngest possible age. I'm all for consumerism, but more as a source of taking advantage of those who might think they are capitalizing rather than allowing mass brainwashing. Maybe I should be thankful that Disney is just weeding out the weak. Because it seems that Disney fans just can't hide their Disney-sponsored-joy, and all I have to do is avoid the Micky Mouse shirts and Jonas brother boners. Thanks for the heads up.

Vagabonds are we.

2010-09-03T18:29:00.000-07:00

I'm already teaching my 2 year old daughter that where she lays her head is home. If she has her family and friends she is safe and I will always return to her. And we will always return to her. The Son-bunny has broken away from me in a much needed way. There was a time when he would scream and shit himself if I walked away from him to the kitchen. Now he mans up and follows or pursues some other mischief. I will not miss the baby years. I want my children to grow strong and master the world around them. They must do so, or they will perish.

Speaking of being a good mom... Apparently I bought some weed from a kayaking boat vendor in Jamaica. It was dark, I was waisted and the guard said 'No worries, mon.' But by the time I sobered up I was to scared to smoke it because of all the various unknown guards at our Scandals resort. What a bizarre and wonderful experience. Surrounded by fenced in luxury with poverty and crime looming at our doorstep. I started with an initial white-person-guilt, then I came to the decision that I would happily live out of a box if it meant that I could stay in Jamaica.

We stopped in Savannah. It's beautiful here, even though it's got some ugly moles. We might actually have a home by Mon. or Tues... depending on holiday interference. But it's looking like our next home might have a dock. Which means I might have to by my own kayak... or canoe... or both. Nothing is more relaxing and beautiful to me than paddling out.

Look up Rodrigo y Gabriela.

2010-07-31T01:32:00.000-07:00

The movers come Monday.

We're leaving Georgia.

Our cockroaches will have to find new room mates.

We're staying with the in-laws on the west coast for a month.

Then we find a new place on the east coast by September.

They will be packing up my desktop on Monday but I will probably have a new laptop within the week.

Did I mention that the in-laws don't allow alcohol in their house? I suppose I could go a whole month without booze. It might even be good for me. And besides, despite all my bitchin' Husband did manage to throw a week in Jamaica in the mix. So we will be leaving the gremlins, for the first time, to go play on the beach for seven days straight. Or... we might just bring our computers and play WoW (while drinking heavily) in our breezy hotel room and appreciate the fact that there is a really beautiful beach out side.

Support for a lovely poetess.

2010-07-15T12:07:00.000-07:00

I just got mine. The next on my list will probably be a coffee cup. Because two of my favorite things are covering up a bad hair day and have my morning... afternoon... and evening cup.

In case you were wondering.

2010-07-15T08:53:00.001-07:00

Do not leave oatmeal in the dish
You can leave it soaking if you wish
For if you do not heed my words
You’ll spend hours picking
At dried oatmeal turds.

What peeves you in the kitchen?

It's all fun and games until someone turns two.

2010-07-14T11:39:00.000-07:00

Stardate July 14th, 2010:
Alpha Gremlin is now 2yrs 9mo
Beta Gremlin turned 1 on June 30th.
I have made a permanent decision to not have any more humans. I have also established a rule that nothing else with a pulse is welcome in my home, under my care.

My children have swallowed me up and drooled me back out. I'm not ashamed to admit that being a stay at home mom is kicking my ass. And you show me a woman in my position having an easy time of it and I'll assume they either have a drug habit or a Jesus addiction. I'm not judging either, I'm just too stubborn to ask for help.

However, I have been doing some research and what it comes down to is that I’m so sick of the parenting books that try to flaunt themselves as inspiring, uplifting and humorous. It’s as if the authors of these depressing ‘memoirs’ are aware that the desperate parents reading their drivel are already on the verge of either destroying the fruit of their loins or jumping off of a very high building. If I had an ounce of motivation left in me after a full day of wiping shit and consoling the weak and fragile psyche of a 2 year old and a 1 year old maybe I could write something inspiring and insightful to the lost and lonely parents that have been forsaken by their own parents either by distance or translation of what is right. Raising little humans is the most terrible, awful experience that I could never imagine wishing on the worst of my enemies. And when you say something shitty about your kids, or the role of parenting, you’re usually supposed to throw in a ‘but’ like; but they’re the lights of my life, or, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, or, but I don’t regret having them at all. And though I despise the seemingly contagious need to throw in last minute lovey-dovey phrases to make other people feel more comfortable engaging in the subject of parenting being a no-win, bullshit endeavor I must say that I really do love my children.

But why, at the end of the day, do I feel like I have lost touch with the outside world and my kids are creepy minions from hell, which no one else sees but me, sent to test the very fabric of what sanity I may still possess? Do all parents experience this dreadful state of defeat or are my kids just the lucky ones? I hope and pray that the words I write here will someday (yeah right) end up on the shelves of every high school library, and fuck, let’s be realistic, Jr. high library shelves as well, under the category of ‘Hey, you horny fuckers, here’s why you should stop groping each other in your nether regions’. Because only now that I have spawned two beautiful assholes of my own I have realized what an amazing and profound undertaking parenting really is. It is possible, even probable, that I take my job way too seriously, but am I at fault for only wanting the very best for the two souls bestowed under my care? I’m sure there is a mother or two in the annals of history that fucked their kids up with the best of intentions. So how do you know you are safe from falling under the definition of horrible parent? No, seriously… Tell me. Because at this point my only formula is: A) Cold beer. B) Warm heart. C) More patience for yourself and your children than you could ever fathom possible.

But for now the positive feedback that I am receiving comes in the form of ‘Good job wipe a butt mommy.’ Thanks daughter, I try. Your approval means the world.

We made it.

2010-03-12T10:02:00.000-08:00

And oh what a ride it has been. We just got to Georgia about a week ago. I thought I would pop in for an update but I really need to unpack a couple more boxes. The desire to nest is strong in this one.

I hope you are all doing well!

Oh, and I guess I have to figure out what the hell is going on with my Haloscan. Poor neglected blog...

What Did You Expect?

2010-01-20T23:20:00.000-08:00

Couldn't have said it better myself.

Today

2010-01-14T21:57:00.001-08:00

I got a phone call from Husband; they are few and far between. Whenever he starts the conversation off with 'I'm ok... but...' I know there's trouble.

The other day his vehicle hit an IED. The driver was killed instantly. If it would have been three feet closer to him, Husband would not have made his phone call. The driver was a young man that loved and respected Husband, and the feeling was mutual. When I had dropped Husband off and said goodbye for the deployment I met this fallen hero's father. I couldn't help but think about how much the deceased was like my brothers and how much his father reminded me of my own.

Now there is a father out there who has lost his son. There is a PL who has lost his RTO, and there is a whole world who has gained a hero.

Husband may have been home within the week but after this tragic incident he has decided to stay in Afghanistan until he has fulfilled his duty as an honorable PL. I support this completely but I won't rest until my husband is safe in my arms. While he was on the phone with me he said he had to go because he was on borrowed time. I know he had just meant that someone else was letting him use their phone time, but I can't help but wonder if there was more behind the words he chose.

Update:
It's come to my attention (sorry familial type readers... I forgot you were still out there) that I may have been more vague than I meant to. Even though Husband is staying a little bit longer it won't be THAT much longer. His return will most likely still be within this month but when I wrote this I was in the mindset that he would have possibly been home by... well, today actually. So I hope that maybe you can understand that to me a slight extension feels like an eternity. I was also able to speak with him again today and the Doc cleared him from possibly having PTSD. The Doc said that Husband is handling the situation within 'normal' standards and as long as he doesn't bottle shit up he should make it through this. He's still experiencing a terrible grief that I can only imagine. He also called the Fallen Hero's parents today and they talked and cried with Husband for hours about their son. They were incredibly gracious and had no feelings of anger towards Husband. Needless to say, he was incredibly relieved.

I'm sick, I'm tired, and I'm tired of writing about it. So fucking horrible. But thanks for your prayers and all that.

Fairytale Fun

2010-01-09T00:14:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time a baby girl was born unto an Ogre and a Medicine Woman. The Ogre, who was called Darkmight, was once capable of great love but the scars and lashes on his hide seemed to tell a story of why he now seemed heartless and cold. The Medicine Woman, named Jilawi, was cursed from her parents rite and carried out her sentence daily as she devoted her services to the sick and elderly. The baby girl was not the first child born to the unlikely couple. Three brothers had come before her and each was born as a different creature. The eldest, Egalion, was born as an eagle with the face and limbs of a boy but the wings of foul. His hair was white and his eyes were black and he kept to himself but held a silent and protective vigil over the younger offspring of his blood. The middle of the three brothers, Fortunot, was born a fawn with a strange taste for blood and poetry. The ogre had thought this son was a disgrace and sought to tarnish the beauty he saw within the fawn's heart. The third son, Augustine, was born as a boy with a tail like a monkey and fingers for toes. This son had a knack for finding trouble, but just as easily as he found it he was able to masterfully evade the consequences.

When the daughter was born she appeared as a human. As she grew older, however, strange occurrences began to surround her. When she was just able to run after her brothers and play games she let out a shriek when Egalion whisked her into a high tree. The brothers covered their ears and stared at their sister as various forest creatures fell dead in a circle around her. When it was quiet Fortunot sneered at his sister as he bent down to retrieve a lifeless chipmunk. He nursed from it bitterly as Augustine clung to the trunk of a tree averting his eyes from his brothers' uncommon tastes. Fortunot tossed the drained creature aside and spake this to his sister:

My, my, sister of ours
Born so perfect and white
Thou hast slain her first
On this, her reborn night
For once thou hast thought
Her future could have brought
A sense of normalcy, peace
But this occurrence won't be forgot
The killing will never cease

"Quiet, Fortunot. Can't you see our sister weeps?" Egalion had heard enough.

Fortunot kicked up the carcass of a rabbit with his hoof and caught it in his hand. He wandered off into the forest as he pondered and drank. Egalion flew up to retrieve his sister and gently pulsed his wings on the way down to settle her safely on the forest floor. Augustine dropped up-side-down from a branch above and played with the girls hair while he hung from his tail. "Don't listen to Fortunot, dear sister, he takes too great a pleasure from evil catching the well intentioned off guard. I believe you will be named soon."

It would be cool...

2010-01-07T23:01:00.000-08:00

If my computer had a breathalyzer.

Oh, poo

2010-01-05T23:13:00.001-08:00

All that we are
is
life, death,
and selfish emotion

I tell her

2010-01-05T22:43:00.000-08:00

That if the nice people didn't deliver, we would then starve. I tell her to 'get down' and 'be safe'. I tell her she's the prettiest thing I've ever seen. I tell her daddy loves her and he'll be home soon.

I tell myself... to keep going. I tell myself that it will all be worth it some day. I tell myself that

we

are

amazing.

And I tell him that I love him and I can't imagine a life without him. But I dream, so often, of living a life alone.

If I could change one thing about my past I would change not one.

The beat

2010-01-05T22:35:00.000-08:00

The beat

The beat

The beat

It thrives like a

force

the beat

it comes

it comes

Again and again

the beat

it comes

like a silver lining

This Is My Sad Mistake

2010-01-05T22:30:00.000-08:00

That I would sing
And not be heard
That I would linger
And not learn
That I would die
And not reside

I'm just a ball of sunshine.

2010-01-02T13:54:00.000-08:00

She crouched in the corner. Her breathing was heavy and it was all she could do to quiet herself. She was surrounded by darkness. She gripped the worn out lighter in her locked fist. Somewhere near by she heard a faint scuff against what sounded like papers that must have been strewn about the floor. She closed her eyes, they weren't serving a purpose in the empty darkness before her. She tried to picture light. She pressed the bottom corner of the Bic lighter against her eyelid trying to force nerve endings to flash in response. She craved the real warmth and light of the sun and nearly cried at the thought of her need for it. She new the flint in the lighter only had a couple sparks left. It could serve no other purpose than to remind her of the nearing end. She held the lighter right before her eyes and rolled her thumb down the sparkwheel and took in the briefest flash of light. She knew it would blind her momentarily, but she didn't want to see what was waiting in the darkness beyond.

Laughter filled her ears and she spread her arms in submission. With tears running down her cheeks and neck she smiled as light surrounded her at last.

Here We Go Again.

2009-12-31T22:54:00.001-08:00

The clock just keeps ticking, doesn't it? I'm going to bed. I have complete confidence that tomorrow will come without me standing guard.

Communication.

2009-12-12T23:07:00.000-08:00

Ain't it somethin'. Husband just got Internet. I just got drunk. You just happened by here.

Apparently Facebook is the source for common reference. I can't stand social networking sites; but only because, for the most part, I can't stand socially networking. Whether I like it or not, it has recently become a fantastic way for Husband and I to keep in touch. The following is from the most recent part of our private communications on Husband's behalf.

Enjoy:

So, read two interesting articles today. First one was a bunch of Taliban detainee interviews. Pretty much detailing what they think of the Americans and why they keep trying to kill us. I'll sum it up.

1) McDonald's. Don't want any. But thanks for all the fish.
2) Women. We prefer men anyways, but if you think on touching our beyotches' burkas and learning them to read good, we'sa gonna have problems.
3) Surface Shitting. The white devils will never tell us where to take zee shits and not cover them.
4) Resources. Our stockpiles of random trash and surface shits (ref item 3) are very important to us. We will fight to the death before any satanic western bastards lays a finger to said piles of trash and surface shit.
5) Boredom. What the fuck else is there to do?

The second was an interesting research piece done by a group of army sociologists on Afghani Sexuality. Very interesting. I've never quite seen in so many eloquent, intellectual, and objective phrases a detailed compilation that ended in stating that all Afghani men are pedophilliotic faggots and that their culture distinctively revolves around consistent acts of overt faggotry. Biggest reason why? Quote one Afghani man, "We just never see our women."

I swear, I could end this war with pornography and beer.

I. Love. Afghanistan.

*ahem* This, of course, is Husband's personal opinion and in no way reflects that of the United States Army. Oh wait... yes. It probably does but we're not going to state such a thing.

Sloppy Brain Soup.

2009-11-16T13:21:00.000-08:00

Putting a thought together is like trying connect the wrong end of two magnets. Lately I have just figured I would spare myself and everyone else the brain-drool that I am presently capable of. And I'm sick. I sound like I've been smoking heavily for the past forty years and my nose is producing a creamy green substance that could easily be used as spackle, or cake topping. Every time I go down the hall to blow my nose in the bathroom the baby cries because for all he knows a wild elephant is stomping mommy to death... except he doesn't know what elephants are yet. And my daughter comes running down the hall yelling "You ok, mommy? You ok?" and then she stands in the bathroom doorway and stares in horror as I blast a goober the size of a placenta into my tissue. Don't worry honey, it's snot another baby brother. But we should name it anyways and give it the proper respects as I flush it down the toilette.

Fug me. *sniff*

Jean, I just want you to know I'm only here because of your last comment. Way to make a sick girl work. Just kiddin... I miss this place and I miss your blogs. By the time I get the kids to bed all I want to do is sit on my couch for an hour or so and let the TV flash pretty colors at me.

Well, my friend will be here soon with some groceries. Yeah, that's how pathetic I am. But maybe I'll get back to some of this later. Aren't you excited.

If only I weren't so paranoid.

2009-10-19T21:56:00.000-07:00

Then I would post something about my amazing husband who may have been a part of a major (and I mean fucking major) Taliban drug cache discovery. Fuck yeah, babe. He makes me proud every day. Whether he's home with me, picking his ass and drinking beer, or across the world fucking with the Taliban's primitive hijinks. Although, fucking with the Taliban is WAY more sexy... I'm just saying.

In other news: I changed the biggest shitty diaper I've ever seen in my life today. I can tell my son will grow up to be a very dedicated man because when he committed himself to shitting his pants this afternoon he more than exceeded my expectations of his capabilities. I had just picked him up and laid him on the changing table and as I peeled away layers of baby clothes I found myself wiping shit out of his armpits. I'm heroic too, right?

See? I should have been sleeping but instead I'm up and writing this shit... Goodnight.

H..h..hello?

2009-10-16T22:39:00.000-07:00

Anybody here?

It's been a while. Life is crazy. Things are good. I miss this place, but I like sleeping more than I like blogging. Call me crazy.

A Year Without Banedad

2009-09-21T22:19:00.000-07:00

Dear brothers,

We’re all a little bit like him in our own way and maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Some of us drink too much. Some of us enjoy our solitude a little more than is considered normal. Some of us are more brilliant than the masses yet refuse to exploit ourselves. And maybe those descriptions could apply to us all in some way. But if it wasn't for him we wouldn't have each other and I don't know what I would do without you three.

He had a twinkle in his eye. Sometimes it was scary, like a warning sign. But the resident twinkle was a vortex. We were all like crows drawn to silver, we that witnessed it.

A year has gone by and I’m still favoring this wound.

September 22nd 2008. Even mentioning the date makes me want to repress memories and pretend the whole thing never happened. But here it is, the anniversary of a tragedy is ready to greet me in the morning. Maybe I'll be back here tomorrow to approach this subject in the only way that helps me cope. But for now I'm imagining that I will be putting a lot of effort into getting tomorrow over with.

Of God and Satan

2009-09-19T23:09:00.000-07:00

Such an obsession of the two. Movies, Hollywood, cults, tattoos, church. A name for good and evil we prescribe. Such a growing culture of idiot numb-nuts wanting to belong to something bigger than themselves. But Buddhists are hanging out in the back trying to be something smaller than themselves. Altruism VS idolatry perhaps. Although an altruistic lifestyle is unattainable because it is the most selfish endeavor to achieve such as it is a constant effort towards self reformation. Maybe the noblest form of worship is to not give a shit. For in the holy act of not giving a shit one is elevated to a consciousness beyond that of the God worshipper or the one whom worships oneself.

Put that in your butthole and smoke it.

It Hit Home

2009-09-16T14:31:00.000-07:00

I'm not going to get into this too much right now because I'm tired and a little on edge and the brain power just isn't there. Basically Husband's unit has only been gone about two months and we have been getting regular e-mails and notifications of fatalities and wounded soldiers ever since. So far no one that I have known personally has come through but it's a fear I face every time I check my e-mail.

On Monday a 1st Lt and a Sgt from Bravo company in Husband's Battalion were killed by and IED, Husband is in Alpha company. I know he's been out on patrols for weeks at a time, and from what he's been able to tell me it's been pretty heated. I've been doing good with everything until now. That e-mail made it real to me. Husband is a 1st lieutenant and I can't stop thinking that it could have been him. Every time I hear something from outside of my house I have a flash of fear that it's the Casualty Notification Officers.

Please pray for all of those families of the fallen. It's something that's said a lot, but I just thought I'd throw a little reminder out there.

Update:
First of all, I'm dum. I keep forgetting that Husband is a captain now, but he's still a platoon leader.

Second of all the day after I wrote this post he called me to tell me that he lost his first man. A Sgt. in his platoon was bitten by a tick. I don't know all the details clearly, but there was an outbreak disease or something and he was flown to Germany where his family joined him and he later passed. You go to war and of all the things... a tick. Thank you all for your positive thoughts and prayers. I, for one, am overwhelmed by the situation and when I make the effort to pray to the God that I do believe in I am stricken with the question that maybe my prayers have nothing to do with the ultimate Plan. Or whatever. Men will fight, people will die. Peace is an ever present question and a motive on a horizon that many parched citizens see as a mirage. This, however, does not change the fact that many good men and women are fighting and dying for something that they believe in. Views clash and people die. Maybe it is for this view I hold that I could not be considered the typical military wife.

Oh, God. Make it stop.

2009-09-10T21:32:00.001-07:00

To my kids I am Mother
To Husband I am Wife
To myself I am regretful
To you I am a train wreck
To the world I am a curiosity

To this bottle of wine
I am the executioner.

Don't read this shit.

2009-09-10T21:18:00.000-07:00

I missed his call today
I am ashamed to say
who said I'd be
at his beck and call
anyway

Fuck. My. Life.

Mil-wife-blogger representin'

wicka wicka wicka-ch (turntable <---)

Drunken Master

2009-09-10T21:12:00.000-07:00

Blah blargh bla blog.

Dear Journal.

But seriously.

Nah. I got nuthin.

Ha! Fooled you!

Dur, Maiden writes some deep shit sometimes.

But most of the time she's full of shit.

Please allow me to fade out.

Fuck you I'm faded anyhow.

Blogs are dum, OMFG.

y2k

2009-09-04T23:27:00.000-07:00

It was the summer of my fifteenth year, budding beauty confused by the hazy smoke of illegal thrills. I had friends, well they weren’t friends but they were adults and they thought it was cool to hook me up. There was Brent, he lived in our house and had a Rottweiler. He was twenty-nine and a perfect gentleman. Every weekend he gave me a film can of weed and I smoked it up and smoked it out. He rented a room from my mom. She thought he was upstanding, he thought I was a cool kid, and I thought he was just a hookup.

Then there was Chelsea, a college student like Brent. But she was a little bit younger and I was still fifteen. Like Brent, she thought I was really mature for my age, a good drinking buddy and fun to take to parties. She never let her friends hit on me, but she didn’t have to worry much because I had a mouth on me. I remember some wiry fucker trying to get sweet. I remember telling him that he was too short and I was only interested in men that could walk upright. People laughed and thought I was some sort of entertainment but I was still fifteen.

Then there was Angela. Angela had a son who was about five. They rented a room in our house just like the others had. Angela, drunken Angela. She would say she had to go run an errand and could we please watch her son. The next day she would come stumbling into our house fresh from the drunk tank and Zack, I think his name was, would be glad to see his mommy. One night Zack was with his grandparents and Angela decided she wanted to go pick him up. It was midnight, she didn’t have a car and I was still fifteen. We walked. The nights were warm then and the stars shone and I was fearless. There was a 7-11 off of East Ave and we stopped because I saw my friend Jake. His cousin was in town and Angela offered to buy us all booze if they could front the cash. They did and she did and we drank in the playground at the elementary school down the street. Angela drank the most and dragged Jake’s cousin out into the field. Jake’s cousin laid her in the field beyond the playground. I remember seeing his white ass pumping and shining in the moonlight. I remember crying and trying to comprehend that this woman was a mother. Jake shook his head and the cousin came walking back saying Angela was passed out and she’d had the sloppiest cunt he’d ever encountered. I left her and went home. She eventually got arrested down the street from our house with her pants off begging some sixteen year old to fuck her. I knew she was making a scene and I kept Zack on my lap in the house and we played with digital pictures of ourselves on the computer. Digital pictures were new to us back then. He laughed sweetly with me while his mother shamed herself in the worst. The grandparents got custody of Zack. I got stuck with the memories.

Zack would be almost fifteen now. He wouldn’t remember me but I think of him often. I hope that he’s well on his way to becoming a good man even though the last time I checked the odds weren’t in his favor.

Happy Anniversary

2009-09-04T01:15:00.000-07:00

Best five years of my life, babe. I love you and don't think that just because you're deployed means you can get away with forgetting. I'm going to treat myself to a nice romantic frozen dinner and cable TV to celebrate.

One of these years we should spend an anniversary together. Actually, nevermind, I hate the pressure of buying presents anyways. And every time you buy me flowers the cats eat em and throw up on the carpet. So I guess I'm good. Hope you are too.

But seriously, if you get to blow something up... think of me sweetly.

Update:
Holy ninja husband Batman! I just got the flowers. Don't know how he finagled it but that's pretty funny.

You know you're a military wife when you've gotten flowers delivered to your door instead of by the husband for Valentine's day, Mother's day, and your anniversary all in the same year. It's better than nothing so I'm not complaining!

Ho hum...

2009-08-25T21:49:00.001-07:00

warm cheeks and wistful thoughts
such a frenzy within me
your comments have brought
some connection to you
I strive for, obsess
yet I only receive
a bit more than less
I'll take what I can
you know this to be true
only one man could do this
it could only be you

Would You Publish Maiden?

2009-08-23T23:00:00.001-07:00

Let's find out. I've decided to amplify some of my fiction ideas into full forced stories. I've finally been feeling like myself after having two kids in the past two years. What a fuckin' ride it's been. But now that I've gotten my breeding out of the way I feel it's time to focus on my writing. Breeding and Writing... there's a title right there. Anyways, those of you that still come by here from Bane's recommendation: thanks... and stuff. I've been posting a lot of fluff lately. All I've had room for in my head was fluff. The 'whogivesashit' kind of posts. But now I have time (and wine) to myself at night and the words are all coming back to me.

I love writing.

So the fluff will continue, but the fun fiction stuff I'll keep to myself. If this motivation stays with me I'll let you know when the book is out. Could be a couple of years, could be five or ten. Could be never. But hell, the more I read current fiction the less intimidated I am by the competition. I don't mean to insult writers everywhere, the mere fact that the authors I'm referring to have been published means that they are better than me. For now. I'm young, I don't know what I'm doing, and I'm in over my head. I feel strangely comfortable.

Oh My Gir

2009-08-19T23:10:00.000-07:00

This compilation is a little intense, especially if Gir is new to you. But I just watched it and was startled by how much my little Gremlin is like Gir. It all makes sense now, she really is my evil minion from outer space. Exactly 2 minutes and 54 seconds into it is the most accurate comparison of the two.

Play Metallica and They Will Calm

2009-08-18T14:04:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been trying to only listen to peaceful music like Enya and Iron & Wine. I don't even like Enya, but I'll resort to anything to bring peace into my life right now. I guess I've just been hoping that it will help keep my stress down. When both kids start crying in the car I desperately scroll through my iPhone to find Enya and they just raise their volume that much more to drown out the weaker sounds in the car. Obviously it wasn't really doing the trick. So the other day in the car I threw Ride the Lightning on. The Gremlin immediately stopped hollering as loud as she could and started banging her head. The Amoeba hushed his crying and sniffled quietly while listening to the intricacies of the music. That's when I realized that I just need to be true to myself. My kids love metal, and that's why I continue to allow them to thrive. Amoeba was in the womb during a Metallica concert, so he's got that going for him. I think my children just have a need to dominate. Don't know where they'd get that from... So I just need to take the more aggressive approach with them. Even though I want to foster a healthy environment for budding megalomaniacs, they still need to respect the fact that they must first bow to me.
But those little fuckers will suck the life right out of me if I let 'em. Don't worry, I will prevail.

I'm a good mom.

Atreyu does the trick, too.

Sleep Now

2009-08-17T23:23:00.000-07:00

and gently hold yourself
the lonely embrace of a lover lost
not in death but in life
lost in a crowded world of hatred
the bombs shudder the floor beneath you
I shudder at the thought
and wish I could hold you

Let The Rage In Me Subside

2009-08-17T23:17:00.000-07:00

I suffer in the breath of a sigh
I sigh more than I mean to
It can always be worse
But the pain in the moment
Is more than I can bare

America's Next Top Couch Potato

2009-08-11T21:29:00.000-07:00

I got cable for the first time in 6 years and I've been watching all of the rediculous reality shows. So far my favorite one is America's Next Top Model. I want to go down to LA and try out. I would so kick ass. You don't even have to be that pretty! Tyra would send all the other girls home as soon as she saw me...

But then I would have to get off of my couch. And lose 30 pounds. And sell my soul. America's just not ready for me anyways.

Every Day

2009-08-11T14:14:00.000-07:00

Is like a marathon.

Well, I had a second to post something, that's a good sign.

I wish I had more time to play video games.

Husband, I know you're like, sucking in the desert right now... but... wanna trade? At least the men that you're looking after can wipe their own asses. I hope. You know, Husband, if you do stop by here you could leave a comment now and then so that I know you're out there. Sigh.

Time to go melt into a puddle while the kiddo's gear up for torturing me the rest of the day.

'Til next time.

Candle Lit Blogging

2009-08-07T20:48:00.000-07:00

My power is out. This is awesome. Thank god I picked up a couple new books today. Well, the kids are both sleeping and I can't foresee this being an emergency quite yet so I'm going to try and relax.

It has been about an hour, though... This is America!!! How long's it gonna take?! Sigh.

Blogged from my iPhone.

I Miss You.

2009-08-06T22:30:00.000-07:00

it was always your smile
...or maybe your hair
you had those cool

sideburns

we drank a lot of coffee then
a lot of coffee
now we drink

booze

I loved the way it felt
to run my nose
up your neck and kiss your

ear

now I have your pillow
and I can't wash the sheets
because I don't want to lose your

smell

we always said we
wanted to be together forever
now we just say we wish we could be

together

I would study your face
not wanting to forget any detail
now I can't see you as clearly without a

photograph

it's been too long
since you've held me
yet it will be so much

longer

and I will always wait
wait wait wait wait wait

for

you

It's Funny When

2009-08-06T13:29:00.000-07:00

You're nursing your newborn in the living room and you realize you haven't seen or heard your toddler for about a minute, and when you go check on her she's happily splashing in the toilette water in your bedroom bathroom where you forgot to close the door. Yeah, the toilette you never clean because guests never use that bathroom.

At least I had actually flushed the last time I used it... It could always be worse.

And I almost forgot! It's also funny when, in the same day, your toddler gets her hands on one of the newborns crappy diapers, opens it up and plays with the poo-covered wipes. Now you know why I call her my Filth-Child.

It's weird to refer to the Gremlin as 'her'. She's always been an 'it', but now I feel I need to help differentiate between the two Gremlins... change is hard. 'She' is still an 'It' to me. I can't help but think of my children as creatures: they're so bizarre and sometimes gelatinous, but mostly they're altogether foreign to me. They're like little aliens, visiting us to try and assume some semblance of human behavior. Little, angry, messy, loud aliens...

God, I hate kids.

No, you shouldn't have.

2009-08-02T23:50:00.000-07:00

I shouldn't have eaten all of that pizza.
I shouldn't have scarfed down those brownies.
I definitely shouldn't have drank that wine...
What a fuckin' day.
I shouldn't have muttered, underneath my breath, that my newborn son shut the fuck up.
What kind of woman am I if I can't carry all of this on my shoulders?
Army wife.
24.
Weak.
Maybe, just maybe...
The heat is getting to me.
Or maybe...
The things that are really getting to me,
are the
silence
fear
shame
pain.
I should be sleeping.
Oh, how I fall short.

Yesterday I went to the post office to send my husband his boots, a set of sheets... some books. I loaded my spawn into the double stroller. Alpha Gremlin hadn't shit in a couple of days, she was grumpy. Beta Gremlin slept sweetly in his seat like a good little amoeba. Business was slow at the post office so I just jumped right in line, figuring I would see the next available clerk. But, even though it was slow they kept to the system and called the next NUMBER. The middle aged, grey-haired, fat man that had entered after me caught on and swept in front of me to grab his precious number. I snarled at him and reached out to grab my number. The selfish, greedy bastard had ripped the paper so hurriedly that the next tab of paper didn't come out. I stood there, toddler crying in the Cadillac, juggling the heavy box meant for husband, thumbing at the little paper that held my number. I couldn't get it out. I cursed aloud. Fuck fuck fuck. People stared. I started to cry. People averted their eyes. I stood close to the counter, the lady called the fat man's number. He looked down at his envelope, filling out an address, and said: I'm not ready yet... help the next person. Who the fuck are you? The lady looked at me with a vacant smile, I said her number dispenser wasn't working. She waved me up. My eyes stung. I placed my box on the counter. My lip quivered. My brain wasn't working as well as it normally does. She needed the address for shipment. Right.. get it together. I placed my iPhone on the counter with Husband's deployment address lit up on the touch screen. She spoke slowly and said that if I could just fill out the contents list she would help me get it taken care of. This isn't me. Why can't I pull my shit together? She told me that she has two sons deployed in Afghanistan and if I ever need anyone to talk to, just come on in and she'll help me. How fucking pathetic must I have looked... According to her, though, it's more difficult to have sons deployed than a husband. Thanks, lady, I'll seek my help from elsewhere, you can sit on your throne of grief just as well without people like me coming to look up to you.

Husband called me last night. One of the first things he said: Have you already sent that package I left for you? I might need you to hold off on it since we'll be moving to a different location...

Yes, honey. I sent the package.

Drink up, baby.

Don't worry...

2009-07-31T16:27:00.000-07:00

I would probably never get it done, but this is a tattoo idea I designed for myself. I think it looks fucking awesome and it could probably be way better if an actual professional got a hold of it and cleaned it up and added some filigree around the outside. I know the old man hated tattoos, but this is for me. Once again I find myself saying: that's what he gets for not being around. Tough shit.

I'll let you figure out the symbology of it all.

Baby Pic!

2009-07-29T16:09:00.000-07:00

A little while ago someone in the comments had asked if I have any cute pics of the new baby-type-thing... Well, I've finally decided on the perfect one to share here:

Have a nice day.

Love You Long Time

2009-07-28T23:03:00.000-07:00

There's just something sexy about Asian boys that can break dance...

This one's my favorite:

The mohawk thing is kind of sexy...

And she's cute too, but she needs to embrace that beautiful black hair that's hiding under the rats nest...

Birthday's, Yuck.

2009-07-28T13:59:00.000-07:00

As you may have noticed, I just made it through the birthday 'weekend'. It came less than one week after Husband had left for war and part of me wanted to reserve the weekend for myself. I wanted to have full permission to stay home and be grumpy and decline the overly sympathetic birthday phone calls. It just didn't seem like a good time to celebrate. I wanted to mope.

Apparently, though, I had approved my in-laws coming up for a visit. It was mentioned to me during the days surrounding Gremlin II's birth. I vaguely remember the ma-in-law saying something about how she had already paid for and reserved the hotel for my birthday weekend. I'm sure I nodded and waved it off as a 'good plan', but I definitely think I was too overwhelmed to logically fend off kind, yet pushy, offers.

Well I got the phone call in the middle of the week from the in-laws: 'It's still ok that we come up, right?!?!' 'Uh... yeah, sure. What?'. Now, for a long time I've wanted to write an in depth post about just how different Husband's family is from mine, but that will have to come another time. For now I will just try to use brief comparisons to give you the basic idea of my personal hell.

My family: Booze, foul language, lots and lots of uncensored television, sarcasm, everyone is very independent, witty insults and banter are a must, thick skin, tough as hell, broke as hell.

Husbands family: No booze (God said so), no foul language (Mom said so), overly censored TV (Only appropriate family shows and turn it off during commercials), sarcasm is like a foreign language, everyone is very sensitive, pampered, and rolling in the dough. They also flock together everywhere they go, including Disney land, at least once a year.

I love both of our families, but sometimes the two extremes are a little too much to comprehend.

Anyways, I just had a very full weekend of in-law-inundation. I've always been a fairly solo creature and they swooped into my world, five of them, and showed me love and pampering with the best of intentions. By pampering I mean that we ate out for almost every meal, they bought and installed an air conditioner for the upcoming heat-wave, they helped with the kids, and gave me a cash gift for my present. And they drove three hours each way to accomplish all of this 'love' stuff. I should be so thankful for all of this that there would be no room for a sneer. It seems like there's something wrong with me that I would rather have alone time than all of the aforementioned gifts of love.

I guess I can sum this up by saying my birthday was very nice, but my life would be so much easier if I could just learn to be a little bit more materialistic and co-dependent.

This will all make more sense if I ever take the time to give you the full insight into my exposure to extreme familial dysfunction. It runs deep and thick in my past and present, and it's like an ever flowing river beneath my raft of healthy living, always trying to overturn me.

Ok, Blog, he's gone

2009-07-23T22:09:00.000-07:00

You can come out of the closet now.

You know you're really the only one; the one that's here for me when I'm all alone. You know I love you, right, Blog? No, don't cry! I know we have to be apart sometimes, but isn't it worth it for those times when we can be together?

Ahhh fuck, it started out as a joke... but now it's just weird and pathetic. Sometimes I just can't help myself, though, and I still click on the 'publish' button. I wish I had more self control. I also wish I had some booze, then maybe I would have an excuse for my weird/ lame posts. Maybe I could figure out a way to get booze delivered with my giant boxes of diapers. They could set discount-combo packages. I bet fuck-tons of moms would be all over that.

Just bringing that up has caused me to do some 'looking into' on the net and I've come to a decision. What I would really love is a subscription to the Wine of the Month Club. Husband will be gone for our 5 year anniversary this September but I'm pretty sure that's what he is getting for me. A month early. With my ATM card. I'll let him know later on how thoughtful he was. Now I really will have booze and diapers delivered to my door. This is getting out of control... what will happen next?!?!

Find out here.

Now THAT"S service.

2009-07-23T13:46:00.000-07:00

Since I have two little shitters I am doing my part, now more than ever, to destroy the planet one disposable diaper at a time. However, I usually shop at Costco and I have been dreading taking both Gremlins. In a desperate attempt to put off the Costco trip I checked online to see if there was an easier way to obtain the ass-hatches.

I wandered over to Diapers.com and wouldn't you know it? Angels started singing and little Huggie-clad cherubs flew out of the screen and left glittery kisses on my cheeks. Well, not really, but I did pay ten bucks less than I normally do at Costco, I received free shipping, and a little brown man in a little brown uniform just dropped the delivery off at my doorstep. Did I mention I just placed the order yesterday? I may never have to leave the house again.

It's lame that this is the kind of shit I get excited about now. I'm too young and too pretty. Diapers... ugh.

Either way, if you know anyone that is currently a slave to their child's ass, please spread the word about Diapers.com. I am a very satisfied customer, best online service I've ever used. Oh, and they also accept manufacturers coupons.

The Love of My Life

2009-07-20T12:00:00.000-07:00

Is gone again.

We said goodbye last night. I came home and put the kiddos to bed. The house was quiet. My bed was empty and lonely. His unpacked uniforms that didn't fit in the bag were still strewn about. Everywhere around me were painful reminders that I'll be incomplete for the next 6(+/-) months. It was going to be the full year, but Special Forces wants him stateside for captain's career course in March. Yep, that also means the South is going to be sucking us back in to it's vortex some time after the new year.

All I want to do is curl up in bed and cry, but I have these two little Gremlins that seem to think it's my job to feed them and clean them and put up with their abuse. Yeah, Alpha Gremlin seems to think it's ok to slap people in the face. Don't know where she got it from or why it started, but she's been beating the shit out of me and I can't return the favor until she's a sturdy teenager.

Husband was ready to go. He's still a platoon leader, even though he's a Captain, and is thrilled to get some combat platoon leader time. Hope he doesn't get whacked by some filthy Taliban mutherfucker. He's too good for that...

Ah well, don't worry about me. We'll get through this; we always come out on top. Just part of being superior. It hurts like hell to be away from Husband, though.

I'm Still Here

2009-07-08T03:49:00.000-07:00

Had Beta Gremlin last Tuesday, June 30th, at 6:58pm. Very healthy boy at 7lb 12oz, 20 1/2 in. Had a successful VBAC and was up and running the next day feeling great. Fuck cesareans.

As of this morning all the family and company has officially left and life with the two Gremlins will now continue with no outside assistance. Yes, I'm on my own. I'm outnumbered.

I'm going back to bed. It's not even 4am goddammit. Husband is home for a little while longer and then I'll be back in full force. Sorry it took so long for an update. Hope everyone had a great 4th! I have stories. They will be posted when I have time.

It's Official

2009-05-28T08:36:00.001-07:00

I'm married to a bad ass, if you didn't already know.

Got the text from Husband this morning that he was selected to continue SF training. As a Captain in the Infantry that is a huge accomplishment. From what I've read SF is extremely choosy about the officers that they select to be a part of their Elite. I still haven't been able to actually speak with Husband about all the details yet, but I can only imagine that the SF cadre was secretly slobbering over him the whole way through. He would never brag about himself this way, but that's why he has me. His interpersonal skills are phenomenal, land-nav- forgetaboutit, PT- let's just say I married him cuz he's pretty.

I would always prefer him home with me instead of going through a school that would put another patch on his uniform or better his opportunities in the military; I am a selfish broad at heart, I want all of his time for myself. But I can't deny the extreme sense of pride I feel on his behalf when he is successful.

A Song For Tonight

2009-05-27T22:41:00.000-07:00

Normally I would recommend this song with a couple shots of Jack after a long, lonely day. But it's still good sober.

I Let Love In - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

They also did the original version of 'Loverman'. Metallica did pretty good, but I have to admit I like the original more.

He Lives

2009-05-27T14:16:00.000-07:00

I talked to Husband today. I wasn't planning on hearing from him for a few more days so it was a fantastic surprise. He finished the course and is going to be home a couple days earlier than expected. He won't find out until tomorrow whether he got selected or not. He won't be able to tell me barely anything about the course, and obviously I won't be able to post any stories that I do get out of him here. Wavers were signed, jail threats were implied. But he did say that he feels properly mind-fucked. I'm wondering if it's going to be a sort of culture shock for him to come home to a loving and safe environment. Safe for the most part... I can be pretty unpredictable during a hormonal surge.

Internet Explorer

2009-05-27T13:30:00.001-07:00

Has it been crashing for anyone else?

Update:
Just went to the twitter homepage for the first time. I was curious what all the fuss has been about. I refuse. Realtime updates? WTF? I know some of you out there probably use it... but I just can't imagine anyone finding realtime updates of my life that interesting.

Changing a shitty diaper.

Laying down on the couch like a beached whale.

Gremlin found a shitty diaper and is now beating me with it.

Too tired to defend myself.

Crying in a ball.

Gremlin set a cat on fire.

I can't roll off of the couch. Spraying the cat with my squirtgun to try and help put out the flames.

Forgot I put flamables in the squirt gun like AJW and Orlok suggested.

The Fire Department just arrived.

They said I have to get off the couch. Damn. Game over.

Boooo. Twitter is lame. Or maybe it's just cool for people that actually have a life. That's probably it...

Vagina on the mind.

2009-05-25T22:58:00.001-07:00

I was thinking...

When I worked at Starbucks we would refer to our regulars as whatever drink they ordered. For example we had people like 'Decalf-grande-no-lid-misto-guy' or 'Triple-venti-sugar-free-vanilla-nonfat-extra-hot-latte-girl'. We did it all the time and every one would know who we were gossiping about just by their drink description. So much brain energy put to waste. Your local barista's probably do the same thing to you, just ask 'em.

It makes me wonder if gynecologists start to look at their patients the same way. You know, like: hey! It's 'Smelly-hairy-pimply-vagina-girl!', or 'Peppered-grilled-cheese-flapping-in-the-wind-lady', or 'So-fresh-and-clean-she-makes-me-want-to-try-being-a-lesbian-for-a-while-chic'. Those doctors have got to get sick of looking at snatch all day long. Another embarrassing habit I developed as a barista was trying to imagine what kind of beverage random people might order. I couldn't help it. The thought would just enter my mind and suddenly my innocent people-watching would turn into a gross evaluation of a persons taste in coffee. I wonder if gynecologists see women walking down the street and picture what kind of vagina they're sporting under their skirt.

Just a thought.

Decisions... Decisions...

2009-05-24T14:11:00.000-07:00

With only four weeks to go until my estimated due date for Beta Gremlin, I still don't have 100% confidence in how I plan to deliver. I am currently leaning towards one option significantly more than the other. But I'm curious: what do you think? I will not base my decision on this poll because I'm... well... not an idiot. But the topic has been on my mind for months now with no answer seeming to be the PERFECT one.

Some info about me:
1. My previous C-sec was due to Gremlin being in a breech position.
2. I have met with MANY different doctors who have given me ranging opinions from 'you are a prime candidate for a successful VBAC' to 'It's dangerous! I just had to perform an emergency c-section on a patient with your similar situation!'. Yeah, military hospitals... you never know what you're going to get.
3. Husband will be deploying one month after the due date.

Alright, Freaks: tell me what you think. I will leave the poll there, on the sidebar, until I've made my decision. Please feel free to leave a comment detailing why you would choose one over the other. If you don't give a shit, then carry on.

Which reminds me:

4: Maiden does not want to poop in front of other people during labor.

Kat, don't read this.

2009-05-22T13:07:00.000-07:00

God, I'm having a shitty day. At first I thought it was some sort of mom karma for my last post. I woke up ready to cry and it was one of those mornings where Gremlin was crying that she was hungry and then threw everything I gave her on the floor. Then I had an unexpected nervous breakdown while I was stirring Gremlin's second bowl of oatmeal. She had never really seen me cry before so she laughed nervously from her high-chair. I couldn't help myself and I said something like "No, honey, mommy's not feeling very good". Then her little bottom lip puckered out and she started crying. I must have scared her. I felt like such a horrible mom letting my emotions affect her in that way. So I picked her up and she wrapped her arms around my neck and we both cried for a minute. I hope I didn't traumatize her...

Then as the morning went on I decided we needed to get out of the house. So we go to Starbucks and Gremlin throws a little shit-fit because she was SO offended by a piece of banana that I tried to feed her. I got embarrassed that my child was screaming in public, which she RARELY does, and whisked her away and took her right back home. It was definitely a mistake for either of us to make a public appearance today.

At home, I went into Gremlin's room to put something away and when I came back out she was standing in front of a book case gnawing desperately on a book shelf. Then I realized, duh! She's teething... and she's been constipated. And she can sense that some thing's not right with mommy. Then when I put her down for a nap I decided it might be good for me to get a good cry out by myself so that it didn't sneak up on me in front of Gremlin again. That's when I realized why I'm so upset.

Monday I'm planning on driving down to the cemetery to meet family at my dad's grave. Every night for the past few weeks he's been on my mind right before I go to sleep. And I tell my self 'don't think about it' because it's still to hard for me to face. But I keep picturing him. I keep remembering things that were said. And as much as I've pushed all those thoughts away, I just can't avoid it. I miss him so much. More than I thought I would. Today it all just happened to culminate and I've had to realize that this avoidance tactic will only work for so long. But it also doesn't seem to do any good to face it. Both options suck.

And my brother, you may know him as 'Baby Marine', has had it way worse than me. He's stationed near the cemetery where our dad is buried. Whenever there is a funeral that requires a Marine present he gets put on that detail. AND this weekend he was told he has to be on the Color Guard and go around the cemetery with a bunch of boy scouts while they place American flags at the grave sites. The other day he attended a funeral where a father had died in his 80's. He stood there stoically listening to the family cry about how unfair it was. And I'm sure it was. But it made the unfairness of our father dying at 53 stand out a whole lot more. What a shitty detail...

On top of all this I've been having a recurring dream that I talk with husband somehow. Either he comes home earlier than expected or he is able to talk to me on the phone. Every time he tells me that he's failing and he's not going to get selected. This is just my unspoken fear coming out in my subconscious, I'm sure he's doing great out there. It always makes it more difficult when he's in a school that allows him NO contact whatsoever. And part of me doesn't want him to get selected for SF. I miss him. I want him to lose interest in the Army so that we can get out next year and actually be together as a family. That's not going to happen though. Still, I fantasize that he comes home, with a box of warm, fresh, chocolate donuts. Then he takes Gremlin to a park while I nap at home and have some much needed time to myself. And then we get a call from his commander that the deployment in July is cancelled and everyone's taking a month of leave.

Psh.

But! In reality, Gremlin's a mess, I'm a mess, and Husband won't be home to give us a break from each other because he's somewhere in North Carolina working his ass off in humid, 80+ degree weather.

1 week to go.

Todzilla

2009-05-21T16:05:00.000-07:00

As much as I might joke about Gremlin, she is really sweet, loving and enjoyable. Plus, she only hits me when I really deserve it. Raise your hand if I just described your ex-boyfriend!

Anyways, a couple times a week I take Gremlin to her adorable little 'toddler gym'. It gets her energy out and exposes her to all the other little Gremlin's so that they can compare notes on how to take over the world. One other 'little' girl, in particular, does not seem to take a very diplomatic approach. This girl, we'll call her Todzilla, has an extreme attachment to toys. No toddler really enjoys sharing, but Todzilla appears to have serious anxiety seeing all the little one's playing with the toys in the room. It's as if she's envisioning a massacre with the end result being her laughing maniacally in a pile of bloody toys.

Normally I've observed her bullying which ever unsuspecting child crosses her path. She pushes boys over, and grabs things out of other kids' hands. She's like a little cave-person. But today she decided to focus on my child. Of course I go into super-defensive-mommy mode, but where do you draw the line in disciplining another moms tyrant? The thing is, Todzilla's mom caters to this behavior. It's weak. It's as if she, too, is afraid of Todzilla. Every time her daughter makes mine cry she avoids eye contact with me and mumbles an apology. I'm sure it's embarrassing for her, but she's in good company. If she needs to pull her little beast aside and beat the shit out of her, no one understands more than a room full of other toddler moms.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

Yeah, I took that shit.

2009-05-19T20:31:00.001-07:00

I know, enough with the little white flowers... But we were at the park the other day and my friend's little girl had gathered these up and placed them on the pic-nic table while she played. I couldn't help myself. They look like huge daisy's in this pic, but they're just the little dandelion sized ones. Can you tell I'm bored today? That's rare... Gawd, I just realized I haven't written a story in a long time. Maybe I can muster something up one of these days. Children suck the creativity right out of my brains. Those are the real zombies I battle everyday.

"Thanks Mommy, your brains taste great!"
"No proble.... *drool*"

There's something going around.

2009-05-19T14:09:00.000-07:00

And it's silly.

Husband showed this to me before he left. Some of his men had shown it to him. Now I'm sharing it with you. Whether you like it or not.

I still haven't heard from Husband yet. No news is good news. Even if he makes it all the way through SFAS that still doesn't mean he'll get selected. He'll be home in two weeks and then he gets two weeks of leave. So... enjoy my delightful company while you can!

Hello, my name is Simon...

2009-05-19T13:50:00.000-07:00

And I like to do drawerings!

This seems like a great site for anyone who already likes to draw or would like to start. I was looking for something that would help me get back in the habit of sketching more frequently. This is a free site, though you do have to register if you want to view any lessons beyond 'Beginner', I believe. It's a clean format with good tips and exercises.

Now you know. And knowing... is half the battle.

Nothing like a windy night...

2009-05-17T22:33:00.001-07:00

To put you on edge.

Whenever Husband leaves for a while I feel a sense of vulnerability like no other. But on a night when it's especially quiet in the house, and the wind is blowing just enough outside to make the screen door squeak back and forth I can't help but be on edge. The random noises make the cats perk up and go on edge, and I consider them my silent alarm.

It's on nights like this that I sit at my computer in the front room with a cell phone dialed to '911' and a loaded weapon right next to it. Tomorrow I'll see what I can do about removing the screen door. It's useless and doesn't close all the way. All it really does is create unnecessary noise outside my door and I don't need that when I'm already locked, cocked, and ready to rock. If I hear something outside, I want to be absolutely sure that it's not a normal creak around the house.

I forget, is it better to aim for the head, or the chest? I think that tomorrow I'll also stop by the local police station and enquire about home defense classes. Of course I'm not going to volunteer any information about what I'm 'concealing' in the house, I just want to see what they would have to say. Also, if I have a cell phone number from another state does it still dial out to the nearest '911' operator? I'm sure it does, but that's just one more thing I would like to confirm. God, now I'm just babble-typing.

I can't help but think of all the victims there must be in the world that have thought 'it'll never happen to me...'. I have no interest in living in fear, just preparedness. If some coward came in and stole all of our shit while we were gone, that's just fine. Fuckem. But if someone came in while we are obviously home that means they're ballsy enough, and dangerous enough, to be my target practice.

The only thing that I'm completely sure about tonight is that I won't be getting any sleep and that's what pisses me off. I like my sleep. It's nights like this when I'm jealous of rich important people that can afford great big walls and armed body guards and security cameras. They must sleep great. Oh wait, they're probably losing sleep worrying about the government getting all their money... I guess we're all screwed.

Oh well. Sleep tight. I'm going to go snuggle up to my arsenal and hope for the best. Funny how it was once stuffed animals that comforted me at bed time.

Got a new camera today...

2009-05-15T15:36:00.000-07:00

And I like it.

Now I'll really be able to zoom up to Gremlins nose hairs. I'll have to get more familiar with it, but that's half the fun.

A Word to the Wise:

2009-05-13T19:02:00.000-07:00

There's nothing worse than blasting a bare-assed, pregnant fart into your towel after a shower and then, without realizing what you're doing before it's too late, whipping that towel up onto your head to dry your hair.

Wouldn't recommend it. Almost sent myself into early labor.

Now I'm Strapped

2009-05-12T20:57:00.000-07:00

Not that way, you perv.

I have a new gun that I keep by my side at all times. It's not as dangerous as the others, but it serves a purpose. One of the bastard felines that I allow to live among us has gotten in the horrible habit of pawing at Gremlin's door at 4am trying to wake her up. I don't know what he means to accomplish by doing this other than getting murdered by me...

Oh yeah, the gun. Yup, it's a Stingray. I got it at Toys R Us. It's ok, you can be jealous. I can shoot the cat from about twenty feet away without losing too much water pressure or accuracy.

Before I got the water gun I'd been rushing my fat pregnant ass out of bed and chasing the cat with a cup of water in the dark. Why go through all this trouble for a stupid animal? He provides good photo op's with the Gremlin. Maybe someday I'll win a contest for one of the pictures and it'll make up for all the trouble.

In the meantime I'll just get my kicks by shoosting a blast of water up his ass and watching him bounce five feet up in the air. I'm hoping I can give him a nervous twitch.

Day 1

2009-05-11T15:40:00.000-07:00

I haven’t heard from Husband today. I guess that means he’s doing well. I’ve had the strangest mix of hope and dread that I would get a solemn phone call from him saying he was coming home and it didn’t work out. I would be glad because I miss him terribly already, but it would be a horribly severe disappointment for him.

Well, I'll just let this song speak for me...

Tired Of Being Alone - Al Green

Happy Mama's Day.

2009-05-10T20:18:00.000-07:00

Once again, another holiday where I receive flowers from my husband via a delivery guy at the door. You know, I'd rather be given a dump left in the toilette with the seat up even if it meant Husband was home to do so. I don't mean to complain, at least he cares enough to send flowers. He knows I don't really get into all that foofy shit but he sends them anyways and that's what makes it special.

I drove Husband and our good friend to the airport at about 3am Friday morning. They were both selected for Special Forces so they had to fly out to North Carolina to go to selection, which is basically just try-outs for the Green Beret's. It didn't actually start until this morning, so I got the 6am phone call from Husband letting me know that unless he gets dropped or something this would probably be the last time we'd be able to talk for three weeks. That's why I've been neglecting this place for the past couple of weeks: we've been trying to soak up as much family time as possible before Husband is torn away once again.

Our good friend that went as well has a wife and 3 year old daughter here. His wife is very dear to me and their daughter loves Gremlin as if she were her own little sister. The three year old is not coping so well with Daddy going away. She adores him and it's like she's become possessed with anger since he left on Friday. My friend and I took our little gremlins to a nice brunch this morning to celebrate ourselves because we are such awesome mothers... I watched as 3yo looked at her mom with hatred for the littlest things. She doesn't actually hate her mom, of course, she just doesn't quite know how to deal with her anger at daddy being gone. My friend says she's not a very patient person, but I've watched her parent this furious little child with the utmost amount of patience and love. She said that the other day, when they got home from playing with us at a park, her little girl started hyperventilating and crying that she 'just wanted daddy to give her a hug and a kiss one more time'.

Happy Mother's day to you, my friend. For you bare a burden on your shoulders that your husband may never understand fully without witnessing the pain you carry for yourself and your child. I'm grateful, for now, that my little Gremlin is not quite old enough to process what's going on. The time may come, but I can only hope that we'll be climbing out of the military world by then.

Husband says the only reason he's trying to do SF is to help set us up for success when we want to get out of the military. But I know he just wants to be a manly man and have the biggest dick in 'my dick is bigger than yours' conversations with other men for the rest of his life. Whatever. But seriously, I know he's sacrificing for us and doing his best to make sure we are happy and prosperous for the rest of our lives.

If he doesn't make it though, then I think we'll both just say 'fuck the Army' and get out and go have a normal civilian life. Which sounds appealing yet altogether foreign to me. I would hate to find out the saying about grass being greener on the other side is actually true.

My daughter thinks she's cooler than me.

2009-04-22T13:27:00.000-07:00

And she probably will be, someday. But for now she needs proper training.

We were sitting on the couch watching Ratatouille, she on my lap leaning against my large belly while her baby brother shifted and kicked at her. I figured I was going to wait another half an hour or so before I put her down for a nap. She usually sleeps longer if I can push the nap to about 1:30pm. But she spontaneously slid off my lap, grabbed her favorite blanket and started to walk down the hall to her room without a word. But then she stopped about mid way and said, over her shoulder, 'See ya, bye'. And walked the rest of the way to her room and stood next to her crib.
So I laughed and put her in her bed and left it at that.

Kids these days.

I have it on good authority...

2009-04-20T13:28:00.000-07:00

That we're all going down in flames. I'm one step away from draping a double sided sign-board over my shoulders and marching downtown to impose my vision on passersby.

Seriously though... Husband and I had a very strange experience yesterday morning, and I'm not referring to the fact that Gremlin slept in long enough for us to... ahem. Never mind. No, I'm referring to the moment when husband got out of bed to piss and paused in the doorway.

He turned around and looked at me as if he suddenly remembered something and said 'I had a really weird dream last night'.

I gave him a weird look from the side and said 'Me too.. really intense shit. What was yours?'

'I dreamt that we were attacked by nuclear bombs and the world was coming to an end and we were staying in a cabin in the woods at the time. We had to survive and fend for ourselves against crowds of savage, lone survivors.' My mouth was hanging wide open with shock and I thought he was playing a trick on me. 'What?'

'I had a post-Apocalypse dream last night, too.' And then we shared a moment where we both thought the other was bullshitting. Then we realized that it wasn't the case and proceeded to get the full on Heebyjeeby's.

We compared dreams for a little while and the coincidences were just freaky: We both saw ourselves living in a compound type establishment that we had to defend from other crazed survivors. In my dream we were in the desert (not the woods, which I think would have been much nicer). We had jeeps and we did patrols around our compound looking for anyone that would be a possible threat to our food and water rations. We had guns and lookouts were posted at all times. At one point in my dream I was walking through a major city and there were piles of dead bodies everywhere. The bodies were piled as high as some of the buildings and there was a sad, older man going around staking six-foot-tall crosses that he'd obviously made from debris in the surrounding area. It was his silent, morbid vigil. I stood and watched him stake a sharpened point of a guard rail into one pile of bodies leaving a towering metal cross against a smoky red sky.

It was one of those dreams that feels so real that when you wake up reality doesn't have quite the same affect as it once did. I had looked out the window from my bed and was confused by the clear sky and the sound of birds chirping in the trees. I could hear neighbors slamming car doors and starting their engines to go do normal things in a world untouched by the disaster that I had so recently experienced. I was relieved, yet it took moments before it all made sense again. The way Husband spoke of his haunting dream I suspect he had a similar experience. I had always thought all that stuff about 'anima' and 'animus' was probably bullshit, but maybe Jung was on to something.

Husband and I are not fanatical people by nature. We haven't watched any Apocalypse themed movies lately. And neither of us had even been thinking about end-times, that we know of. I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation for our coincidental dreams, but it still left both of us wanting to go out and pick up a couple assault rifles and case-loads of ammo. Husband is all for surviving some sort of earth destroying catastrophe: he thinks it would be cool to live in a 'you keep what you kill' world. He's a trained killer so he's pretty sure we could live like royalty. I personally like having electricity, but hey, I'm always up for a challenge. As long as any imminent doom holds off until I have this baby in the safety of a hospital I can take it from there.

Kudos to this guy:

2009-04-05T14:31:00.000-07:00

Maybe I'll try flying with Southwest next time. We flew with Delta, and so has everyone else I've been talking with lately. Lots of bad reviews for Delta: missing connections, overbooking flights, stressed out and overworked flight attendants that have the crazy kind of smile that says 'I wish this plane would crash so that we could all go down in flames together'. They seem to be the cheapest option that shows up when you book online but the word is: you get what you pay for.

Home.

2009-04-04T13:17:00.000-07:00

We've been home for over a week now. I've been laying low and eating. That's all I ever do these days: eat. Oh, and Guitar Hero: Metallica just came out, so I throw some of that in there, too. My favorite video game and my favorite band came together and made a beautiful love-child.

Thank you to everyone who sent good vibes my way for the Georgia trip, I definitely felt it. Gremlin was a great travel companion; which was a good thing because I'd already made up my mind previous to our departure that if she was going to be a little tyrant I would offer her up as a sacrifice to all the angry, sleepy masses on our late night flights. But to the contrary I had people coming up to me telling me what a great mom I was and how they'd never flown with such a well behaved gremlin before. They just didn't see me slippin' Jack in her sippy cup the whole time... Whatever. Worship me, bitches, for I am superior!

Husbands best friend lives in Savannah so we had all agreed to meet there. On my little flight from Atlanta to Savannah I sat next to a very kind woman. It was about 11pm local time and she was on her way to help her Marine son pack up his shit in his truck so she could drive it all the way home to Minnesota for him while he deployed to Afghanistan for a year. But she terrified me. The more I talked with her the more I learned that she had lived the life that I so dearly do not want to. She had two children that were the same age difference as mine will be. Her son had the same name that I intend to name my own son. Her husband had died from an illness shortly after her second son was born. I asked her if she ever remarried and she told me that she is now happily married to another man. She was so lovely yet she hid a sadness that could only vex a woman who had lost her love and the father of her children. I couldn't help but wonder if this was God's way of showing me that even if my worst fears come true that there would be hope and life would go on. I was very vulnerable and very candid with my fellow traveler. I told her that I feared losing my husband and for the first time I received the most honest and plain response to that fear. She simply told me that she hopes I never have to experience that. She didn't bother with any words of advice or encouragement. I quickly changed the subject and we finished our flight having both felt a strange connection. We exchanged e-mails and I will be following up with her to see how her son is doing on his deployment.

When I arrived at my gate I called Husband right away to let him know we were there and ready. It was midnight and he didn't answer my call. I went down to baggage and called him again. No answer. I had a good size suitcase, a car seat, pak-n-play, and Gremlin was falling asleep in her stroller as I tried to awkwardly gather our belongings. Everyone was leaving. I called Husband again. No answer. I was getting furious. There was no way I would have been able to get all my shit down to the car rental by myself. The airport was empty, everyone had gone home. My phone rang. It was Husband. He had set his alarm wrong on his phone, and he'd been partying most of the day with his buddies, thinking he could sleep it off before coming to get me in the middle of the night. I sat in that damn baggage claim after a full day of travel and feeling like I made all this effort and Husband didn't even receive me exuberantly upon my arrival. In that moment, while a few self-pitying tears rolled down my cheek I thought about how I'd like to take fate into my own hands and destroy Husband upon first sighting with an extreme prejudice.

To my surprise, though, I was able to put my fury aside when he finally did come to gather us up. My very first instinct was to lay into him and make him feel like the shit-bag that I thought he was in that moment. But somehow I just told him how much I loved him and how happy I was to see him. I think I knew that I was deciding the tone for the rest of our trip together. I must be pretty fuckin' mature for my age.

Savannah was beautiful, sunny and warm. Our best friend's girl works at Starbucks down there. She got held up by gunpoint and robbed one night in the middle of our trip. It's too bad there are so many shit bags and criminals in that area, or I might like it enough to consider relocation someday. Actually, no. You couldn't pay me enough to live in The South. Nice place to visit, I'll leave it at that.

Husband gets home tonight around midnight. I'm letting staff-duty pick him up and bring him home. Nothing wrong with that, I say. There will be beer and food in the fridge and if he wakes me up before morning I'll stab him. Just a little warning clip and then I'll roll over and go back to sleep. Honey, if you're reading this now on your iPhone in the airport, consider it a fair warning.

Back To The South We Go

2009-03-17T12:47:00.000-07:00

Once again the South and the Military have conspired to make my life complicated. There's just something evil about Ft. Benning, GA. Husband's time there is going to be extended for training and he'll have some free time over the next week or two. We haven't gotten to see him in almost two months now, and the deployment is steadily creeping closer.

Today I booked a flight down south. Fuck it. I leave Thursday. It's expensive, I will be flying accross country with Gremlin on my lap, all kinds of Gremlin-gear, and a wee one in my squishy parts. For all of these reasons I don't want to go, but there is one reason leading me to be brave and that's the thought of getting to spend even just one week with the man I love.

There's so much more I could say but I'm tired and I probably won't be around much for the rest of the month. Have a good... whatever. And play nice.

I Repent!

2009-03-14T19:17:00.000-07:00

I was grumpy because I prefer to be alone sometimes. Husband is allowed in my space because he's alright to look at, Gremlin lived in my guts so she earned the right to hang out for about 18 years and eat my food... other than that? People = Ewww. Nothing personal.

The time with Ma-in-Law was very pleasant, Gremlin loved it. Our visit was cut short so now I can watch my 'R' rated movies and play my evil video games instead of like, talking. The Ma-in-Law is very conservative. I'm bored writing about it, so that could tell you something. Have a good night.

Mommyknockers, mommyknockers...

2009-03-12T21:19:00.000-07:00

Knockin at your door.

Well, husband is away at Air Assault School and his mother decided to show up for a visit. Of course she tells me it's because she wants to help out with the Gremlin, but I remain suspicious. Uh oh... don't look now but she's getting out of the shower.

I'm not alone.

I'll send for help from here if I need it.

Standby.

Dancing With the Fags

2009-03-09T22:10:00.000-07:00

I know I just posted some shit about how I don’t watch TV blah, blah, blah… But I saw an advertisement for the season premiere off ‘Dancing With the Stars’ and my curiosity was peaked. I’ve never seen the show before, but what can I say? I am a female and I like to watch people dance in pretty sparkly outfits. I’m already kicking myself every time a commercial break starts and I remember why I hate people so much. Most of the people on the show would probably do the world a favor by combusting and fucking off to the great nothing. It’s a damn shame that I have to unplug my internet to get basic cable. But hey, I’m alone and I have nothing better to do. I suppose there are books, but reading makes me feel even lonelier.

I’m sure most of you know who Steve-o is. That nasty fucker from Jackass. He’s done so many disgusting things that I don’t even look at him as a fellow human being anymore. Tonight I have been swayed to change my mind on that, only a little. Steve-o was surprisingly attractive. The dude wore a pinstripe suit and danced pretty well. I just loved the combination of tattooed knuckles with a sharp looking suit. If I could kidnap Husband and get him slathered in ink I would. He doesn’t have anything against tattoos, just hasn’t thought of any that would be worth it. I’m surprised that Steve-o managed to harness some essence of sex appeal. He’s still kind of a nasty fag, though.

I won’t be watching the show again because it’s way too painful to expose myself to all the wasted human tissue being paraded in front of cameras for hundreds of thousands to millions of dollars. But I might check on YouTube for clips of Steve-o doing his thing. But the most likely outcome will be that I sleep on it and realize tomorrow how much I really don’t care about any of these people. Maybe some individuals need to idolize stars to give them something to fantasize about other than their pathetic lives, but I feel that the entertainment industry is an unnecessary evil. I would prefer it if actors and performers were kept on private compounds to keep all of their drama and drug use to themselves only to be allowed outside when someone needs them to play a part in a movie or sing a pretty song. A girl can only dream, I suppose.

Radio

2009-03-09T15:09:00.000-07:00

Of all the places I've lived there has only been one location that has an amazing radio station. Most of the time I refuse to listen to the radio because 90% of the public has horrible taste in music. And I can't stand commercials. That's why we haven't purchased cable or needed a radio in our home in (nearly) five years of marriage. I’ll rent my TV shows and listen to music on my iPhone, all of which are completely in my control and commercial free. Well, I’d tell you the station that I’m talking about so you could check it out but then I’d be revealing my hometown. I was raised with a certain level of paranoia so I can’t help but expect some psycho to come and stalk me if I reveal too much.

This wonderful station that I've rediscovered via the internet still manages not to suck ass-cavities. Mostly because they still play Metallica as if the band were just recently discovered. They don’t treat it like they’re playing ‘oldies’ or ‘era’ music. Stations that do that are run by fags. The one benefit I see to listening to the radio is to keep up with new music that I might not have otherwise heard about. I remember when I was ten years old and the DJ’s would record people saying the name of the station in really funny or obnoxious ways. They’d keep the recordings and use them as their station advertisement for a while. I’ve always had a really unique talent for being able to belch louder and longer than any man or pig I’ve come across. In elementary school I would test my skills against the boys in the lunch line and I was ALWAYS the undisputed champion. It’s a wonder someone married me… Anyways, I called the station and the DJ told me to belt out a ----insert radio call sign----. I belched it out so fuckin’ loud that the DJ couldn’t stop laughing and I heard myself played on the radio for days after.

It’s also nice because I get really homesick and it’s fun to hear what’s going on in my hometown. Even though I’m going to be selfish and keep this station for my own, I would recommend going online and finding an old station that you use to love just to see how it’s fairing. This would be more for people who have had to live far from home for a long time.

Silly menfolk...

2009-03-05T10:39:00.000-08:00

Is it mean for me to tell Husband that I'm going to start calling him 'Uncle' around the kids since he only comes home for a short amount of time? I grabbed Gremlin out of sweet slumber last night to go retrieve the man. She looked absolutely freaked to see mommy getting attacked by some man in the dark outside of the car. Then the strange man in the darkness swung the door open and swooped in to give her a kiss. She had a classic 'Who the fuck are you?' scowl and kept glancing at me to see if this was 'ok' behavior. I was peeping up over the driver's seat and beaming 'it's DADA!' and she thought mommy had forsaken her and all notion of sanity.

She hasn't gotten to see him today because she got all bitchy and had to go down for an early nap before Husband rolled out of bed. I thought he'd still be soaking up the comfort of his own bed even still, and he would be if he hadn't gotten a call from work. Apparently one of the younger guys that lives in the barracks got home to all of his shit not being there. So this poor soldier waits until a decent time of morning to call his PL (Husband) and tell him what happened. Apparently some low-life-douche-bag-soldier (the worst kind and I hate to talk shit about an American soldier but...) had stolen his flat screen TV, snowboard, Playstation3 and other high dollar items. The victims’ roommate was also away at NTC so no one was there to keep tabs on their shit. There's really nothing Husband can do except be there for this kid. Sure, it's taking away from our already limited family time, and this kid has no one else. Again, this brings me back to Husband's annoying 'Do the Right Thing' complex. But his men love him and most of them would throw themselves in front of a bullet for him.

But all is not nobility and selflessness on my part. I'm sick of people doing stupid shit that hampers my time with husband. For instance: right before all of the guys had to leave for NTC last month they were told not to drink after 5pm the night before they were to manifest. So one of Husband’s guys, a big fuckin’ Indian, decides he’s going to get nice and obliterated all the way up to 5pm. We’re all out at a casino watching the UFC fights for some guys’ birthday and Big Fuckin’ Indian starts grabbing at his chest and getting strange looks on his face. Then BFI wanders out into the casino lobby grabbing at his chest and passes the fuck out. Someone calls for an ambulance and guess who steps up to ride to post with BFI? Yep, Husband; which leaves me at the casino, pregnant and bored, to drive the birthday boy home when he’s had his fun. By around midnight I made my way to the Emergency room on post and find Husband sitting next to BFI passed out and snoring like a big red baby on the hospital bed. The doctors needed someone to be accountable for the soldier at all times so I stayed in the room while husband walked out to call someone from Staff Duty to come baby sit the dumbshit. Well, while I’m sitting by this guys’ bed he lets out a loud snore and rolls over. And of course the sheets roll with him and all of a sudden I’m seeing a lot more ass and tattoos than I’d ever meant to. So I end up sitting there awkwardly and averting my eyes and laughing to myself about the ridiculous situation when BFI starts to mumble and wake up.

I can’t help myself; I decide to fuck with this guy. He has no idea who I am or that I’m his platoon leader’s wife.

‘How’s it going, buddy?’

‘Hmmwah…?’

‘You feeling pretty good?’ He looks around the room trying to gauge his whereabouts. The ass has been covered by now. ‘You’re in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?’

‘I…unno… I only had a coupla beers…’ By now the doctors had already told me that his BAC was at a 3.something. Coupla beers? No fuckin’ way.

‘Really? Must have been some strong beer, friend. Oh, I’m Lt. Husband’s wife, he’s outside trying to make some calls.’

He was a really nice guy, and he was scared. The chest pains couldn’t be explained and the poor bastard was all kinds of sensitive about being thought of as just another drunken Indian. They kept him overnight for observation and Husband and I got home around 2am. The next day they all took off for NTC.

My message here is for all you soldiers out there to take care of yourselves, take care of each other, and stop interrupting my family time, goddammit!!!

My Current Anthem

2009-03-05T10:36:00.000-08:00

Clean My Wounds - Corrosion Of Conformity

I love COC, don't you?

There’s Good News, and Bad.

2009-03-03T21:31:00.000-08:00

The good news is I finally shit for the first time in three days. No wait, that’s not what I was going to say…

The good news is Husband doesn’t leave before Beta Gremlin is spawned. I’ve been preparing myself for the probability that he would be deployed earlier than ‘They’ have been saying, but there is now a ‘solid’ date that we are going by. I say ‘solid’ because it’s the Army and nothing is ‘solid’ until it’s happening. The baby, if we can call it that, is due the end of June and Husband is due to leave towards the end of July. So he has less than one month to help me get back on my feet and bond with the boy.

The bad news is the baby is due in June and Husband is leaving in July.

The good news is Husband gets home tomorrow from being gone at NTC for a month.

The bad news is he leaves this Sunday for Georgia to go to Air Assualt School.

But the worst thing of all is that I just made so many cookies that I got five zits and gained ten pounds just from looking in the direction of my kitchen.

Blue Fridays

2009-02-28T08:02:00.000-08:00

These pictures were e-mailed to me from the Battalion Commanders wife regarding Blue Fridays. Apparently I'm a little late, but thought I'd still share.

Todd Heisler The Rocky Mountain News

When 2nd Lt. James Cathey's body arrived at the Reno Airport , Marines climbed into the cargo hold of the plane and draped the flag over his casket as passengers watched the family gather on the tarmac.

During the arrival of another Marine's casket last year at Denver International Airport , Major Steve Beck described the scene as so powerful: 'See the people in the windows? They sat right there in the plane, watching those Marines. You gotta wonder what's going through their minds, knowing that they're on the plane that brought him home,' he said 'They will remember being on that plane for the rest of their lives. They're going to remember bringing that Marine home. And they should.'

The night before the burial of her husband's body, Katherine Cathey refused to leave the casket, asking to sleep next to his body for the last time. The Marines made a bed for her, tucking in the sheets below the flag. Before she fell asleep, she opened her laptop computer and played songs that reminded her of 'Cat,' and one of the Marines asked if she wanted them to continue standing watch as she slept. 'I think it would be kind of nice if you kept doing it,' she said. 'I think that's what he would have wanted.'

100 posts!

2009-02-25T12:21:00.000-08:00

I was so busy having fun with poop and crying babies that I forgot to mention that I've just hit 100 posts! Well... a couple of posts ago. Someday I'll learn how to write proper and I might become a REAL blogger.

I'm going to celebrate this with a nap...!

Ihop

2009-02-25T12:05:00.000-08:00

What a fantastic day we’re having. First the Gremlin wakes up at about 6:30am, which is something she’s been doing way too much lately, and then I get up and watch all of the fuss about Obama’s speech yesterday. I hate to say it, but the guy is somewhat likeable at times. Sure, he might be making unfathomable promises to America and spending money like it’s not his, but what president hasn’t done that? At least he’s not painful to listen to. I won’t miss Bush’s stutter.

Anyways, once 9:00am rolled around I decided the Gremlin and I should shed our jammies and face the pissing rain like a couple of tough broads. I didn’t feel like cooking breakfast and Gremlin probably didn’t feel like seeing only my face for the rest of the day. I figured Ihop would be the perfect place to go to because there are always old people there that ‘ooh’ and ‘aww’ over Gremlin and it gives me a break from constantly having to capture her interest somehow. And Husband always likes to say that ‘Ihop is like the country fair, there are so many goony looking people milling about that there’s no better place to people watch and feel better about yourself for not being a larpy misshapen spectacle’. But we probably shouldn’t be passing judgment since we frequent the damn place as well.

My plan was going along swimmingly. The moment we walked in the door the hostess fawned over my hideous child and people peeked over shoulders and flashed warm smiles in her direction. Gremlin was obviously in heaven. She has a disgusting need for adoration and power and what better way to achieve both than batting her huge eyes and sending cuteness beams at all of the weak peoples of earth? We sat down in a booth right next to a jolly old couple that could have easily been Old St. Nick and his wench. Santa Man and Gremlin kept eachother occupied while I gulped down coffee straight from the carafe. It’s really ok to drink coffee when pregnant, as long as you have superior genes and you’re not a total wuss.

Well, right when the server brought our food out Gremlin decided to throw one of the most award deserving shit-fits yet. I mean, she was REALLY letting me know how much she secretly hates me. I got lots of dirty over-the-shoulder glances from the table of about twelve high-school girls and I’m sure they were all thinking ‘Ugh, I’m never having kids’. So if you think about it, maybe Gremlin was just helping them decide to abstain from intercourse. I doubt it, and half of them will probably have their own little bastards screaming in Ihop someday and I really didn’t give a fuck about the stares anyways. Well, I thought Gremlin was just being a bitch for the fun of it when finally her face turned bright red and her obstinate screams turned into tears of pain. I knew the face, she was having a very rough time filling her diaper and was pissed that I’d dragged her out into public to have to shit in front of all her future minions.

I slorped down the rest of my hash browns and rushed my time-bomb to the register while she alternately screamed at me and fell against my chest for a quick snuggle like a bi-polar monkey on meth. I got the Gremlin into the car and rushed home to open up my surprise and see what masterpiece was awaiting my attention. Since she seemed to be constipated I was expecting to find a solid little potato-turd but to my surprise there was so much shit I was suspicious that she let Santa Man borrow her diaper for a quick dump. It was up her back and it seemed to have its own pulse. Gremlin was pissed and I couldn’t blame her.

Once I neutralized the situation I plopped her grumpy ass in bed and sat on the couch to have a nice hormonal sob session. I can tell it’s going to be a beautiful day.