The Dream Police...

I try to sleep, they're wide awake, they won't leave me alone.
They don't get paid to take vacations, or let me alone.
They spy on me, I try to hide, they won't let me alone.
They persecute me, they're the judge and jury all in one.
'Cause they're waiting for me. They're looking for me.
Ev'ry single night they're driving me insane.
Those men inside my brain.
The dream police, they live inside of my head.
The dream police, they come to me in my bed.
The dream police, they're coming to arrest me.
--CHEAP TRICK--

Not only will blogging be light but reading too from this point forward until we hit the states. I've already got a big brother but apparently I now have two.

Someone Borrowed

Let me tell you about a new book written by a Military Spouse here in Germany. Its called Someone Borrowed. Here's a little excerpt from her book:

Melody pressed the mare harder, urged her beyond her limits without daring to look back. She knew he was there, close behind now. She heard the thunder of his approach, sensed him reaching out to grab her.
Melody veered sharply.

The mare turned a fetlock and screamed as she buckled, throwing her rider. The ground rushed to meet the woman who landed in a painful heap, gasping for air. Her husband reined his mount, leaped from the saddle. Melody tried to crawl, tried to scurry away. He was on her.

“Why?” he raged as his hands dug into her shoulders. He shook her, oblivious to her struggle. She pulled and pulled on air but it wouldn’t come, and her husband shook her, railed at her.

“Why? Why did you do it?” He slammed her into the ground and didn’t notice the terrain until it was too late. The mare’s cries muffled the sickening crack of bone on stone. She was limp in his arms.

After years as his prisoner, at last Melody was free. (Reproduced by permission, Copyright Terri Long 2006)

The book is a bit like a soap opera and per the author it contains some adult material. It's only 9 bucks and some change. So why don't you give it a try and support a budding author & Military Spouse.

Who do I work for?

This is just too close to home (click image)....




Sorry I messed with it for a while and couldn't get it any larger before having to acutally work. Squinting never hurt anyone really, I promise.

Ain't he sweet?

The hubby and I got up at the same time today and sucessefully shared the bathroom! That is a feat all in itself that deserves an award. While gathering up my stuff to go to work, I stopped by the kitchen and asked for a kiss for the day. As I went out the front door I hear,

"I love you. Drive safely potenial mommy."

Ain't he sweet?


PS - Blogging will be light well non-existant for the next two weeks. I have a paper and finals due.

Back When I was New

Some discussion around my and another blogger’s blog as well as on a MilSpouse board I frequent got me to thinking to back when I was new to both being a wife and being around the military in general. It was definitely a different world than what I was dealing with at the time but hey I figured I could figure it out.

So here’s 5 things I remember back when I was new:

1. The Military Wives Handbook was actually useful – twice. Once for addressing invitations to military personnel and as a doorstop (it’s current occupation).

2. “Texas Casual” or “BBQ Casual” is not what I thought it was. I showed up at a Spouses welcome BBQ of a new Group Commander’s wife in jeans, nice shoes and nice shirt. Everyone else was apparently thought that it meant skirts, heels and silk blouses – boy did I feel stupid, I should have worn my Stetson!

3. I wondered if I would ever learn all of the acronyms that were being thrown at me & ponder why in the hell did the Army create so many of them in the first place! Now I know some that even my spouse didn’t know.

4. I remember a time where speaking up and defending myself a little too loudly caused my spouse and I to be shunned faster than a naughty Mennonite. None of these folks are even in the Army anymore, including the girl who cried “foul” when I told her to stay the hell out of my business and stop talking crap about me unless it was to my face.

5. I remember my first experience with a Spouse’s Club meeting – it has tainted my view ever since. While sitting quietly in a meeting, taking notes and putting faces to memory, one young woman came up to me and said, “I’m so glad you could come, especially since we voted you in.” Voted me in? WTF? I was a fiancé at the time and apparently they voted if I could join their little shin-dig or not. Apparently fiancés could come and go and they didn’t want to invite them if they weren’t going to actually get married.

This did NOT go over well with me. My pledge days were long since over and I found this separatist attitude to be really off-putting. I attended a few more coffees and decided that this group was so NOT for me. (This was the same group that eventually participated in number 4).

Finally, I have come to terms with spouse coffees. After this bad experience, I have had several good ones with a random not so good experience. Because the good experiences out number the bad, I accept each new coffee group on a “trial” basis. I don’t like separating folks based on rank and those that make it such a big deal that my best friend is an “insert rank here” spouse’s wife are just not people I want to spend my time with. If the coffee is a group full of the aforementioned then I find folks outside the coffee to spend my time with.

So you veterans of the MilSpouse world, what five things do you remember when you were new?

Casey's Headstone

Well at least I am not asleep while Blackfive brought this up to the forefront. Looks like Casey Sheehan's Dad is going to finally take care of providing Casey with a proper headstone. Cindy's full whine about how we are all evil for being a little perturbed about her not taking proper care of her son's grave is here.

I can understand the first year of being in denial and not placing a headstone and with most folks I would have some faith that she's really grief stricken - but then there's this little ditty from Vanity Fair:



Again this goes back the problem I have with Cindy marketing herself & extended her Warhol 15 minutes of fame off of the death of her son. She should focus on Casey for a moment not just on how the media will cover it.

We will be in NorCal this summer, Vacaville isn't so far away. Cindy since you asked, I will make the effort to pay my respects to Casey - Without a headstone, I might need a map though.

Fran O'Brein's SteakHouse

Oh man I should be court martialed for sleeping on watch! I have been so focused on the man being home I missed something important to me - supporting the Service Member.

Apparently due to a breakdown in negotiations Fran O'Brein's Steakhouse in D.C. who provides a Friday night dinner to wounded Service Members at WRMAC has lost their lease. Speculation is in the air that this was because Hilton does not approve - Read all of what Andi's World has to say about it.

You can also get updates from Matt at Blackfive. I am just kicking myself right now for being so self absorbed.

Time Flies when he's driving you batty

Its been just about 5 weeks now since the DH came home from Afghanistan. We've gotten back into a routine and things go fairly well. We've started the gear up for PCSing back to the states including sending the lil' miss (above) to live with the grandparents until we come and get her this summer.

Today was the first day back to work for him and we are fighting over the bathroom just like we always have. You can't turn on the water or flush the toilet without scalding or freezing the person in the shower. It just doesn't seem like I have had 5 weeks of snuggling up next to the man at night, pestering him to put his damn shoes away and to clean up his TA 50 gear so we can actually walk into the basement craft/storage room.

I am really starting to get a little impatient about wanting to continue gearing up for our PCS. We have nothing set up other than billeting here (Blasted World Cup). We need to get a date for our household goods pick up, a date for the car to be shipped, billeting at the new duty station, a kennel reservation for the dog, a rental car for our time in CA visiting family, Tickets to fly, plan our last three trips in Europe (London, Brussels, Venice/Vienna), and looking into moving insurance if USAA will cover us. I also need to get my overseas driver's license renewed, get an international lincense, see if I really need to renew my No Fee passport and get a new ID card.

The list keeps growing and spring fever is hitting me hard at work. Oh and I was really irritated that the pharmacy switched prenatal vitamins on me. I asked why and the little Pharmacy Tech who is pregnant says with a sigh, "Yeah I know, it happens every time, it's what ever they get in stock." I liked the ones I had because they didn't upset my stomach like I have read many of them can, so I hope the new ones go down as well as my current ones.

Also, I am still miffed at yesterday's road rage...For another post I MUST get some work done today.

Let me introduce you to...

I am a nosey girl and look at diffent folks who comment on blogs I read or mine. I find some pretty good reads that way.

When you get some time say hello to a UK Mil Spouse Jenny whose hubby has just left for Iraq. She provides yet a third perspective to the life as a milwife. With half of my family's ancestry coming from the Cambridge area (my other half is from Co. Mayo, Ireland), it's nice to read a bit about the UK.

Don't forget to say hello or she might think I'm stalking her!

Speaking of stalking & since I brought it to work for a co-worker to hear you must go and find "In the middle of the night" by Madness. Its a hilarious little ditty about a knicker theif.

Note to self....

While attempting to meet one of your three goals every day (water, exercise, cut down on sweets) do NOT attempt to cram 1.5 liters of water in three hours before you go to sleep for the night.

A squatty Potty

Normally I try not to be too crass and spend time on potty humor but I couldn’t resist…

While traveling through Turkey the back of the bus (yeah I was there) were having a serious discussion about what exactly do you call a non-western toilet. On our various rest stops folks would warn each other about which stalls not to use and which ones were “Western.” I’ve used a non-western toilet before so I really didn’t care either way.

For those unfamiliar with the non-western toilet, it’s basically like a shower basin, with a large drain in the centre and special, textured spots at the side for you to stand on. Women (and men in some circumstances) have to learn to roll their pants legs BEFORE dropping your pants or you will get a nasty surprise.

Non-western toilets are all over the world. As we continued on the road of what to call them, I learned that those not used to a western toilet will do some crazy stuff when confronted with one – they stand on it, just like you would the non-western one. I am totally perplexed at the thought of a Japanese woman attempting to balance atop a western toilet in heels?? Some of the fancy hotels in Japan even have pictorial diagrams in the restroom showing how to use a western toilet properly (if you could see my face, one eyebrow has been raised and is stuck there in disbelief at this whole thing).

Finally out of the middle of nowhere the spouse says, “Oh I know! It’s a “squatty potty.” With bursts of laughter and then several knowing head nods the non-western toilet has now be named. Oh to the "squatty potty" forever you shall be called!

Oh my Goddess!

The mystery has finally been solved. Through my travels to nations that have a high Muslim population I have found that I am often the centre of attention - much more than I would ever want (anything above none). When traveling to Morocco, Egypt or Turkey, I always ensured that I dressed in a manner that was respectful of the culture and religion – but always seemed to get paid attention much more than the long legged blondes who wear skin tight, sleeveless clothing.

In Morocco I received a lurid proposition in French (it took me a minute to figure out – eek), Egypt it was several marriage proposals (my travel mates kept a running tally per day) and in Turkey the village leader we visited was unconcerned about my husband sitting next to me while he stared smiling all the way.

Finally though the sky broke open and shed light on this – I am the Fertility Goddess. Yep, that’s right my lovely Irish Child bearing hips, little waist and large bosom is the epitome of the Fertility Goddess! I am not nearly as rotund as some of the early statues of the Turkish version of Fertility, but I am apparently round enough to be the perfect match as far as their culture is concerned. I guess the male tour guides I had previously didn’t want to tell me this, but the female guide we just had pretty much summed it up for me.

This just adds fuel to the fire though of the running joke my friend and I have – we intend on finding a valley in Montana and will build temples to ourselves at the peaks of each side of the valley. Woohoo – I am a Goddess…I always deep down knew that, really I did.

Negative Ghost Rider...

Negative Ghost Rider, looks like we will have to try again this time around. The trying part is super fun, but the waiting, peeing on a stick, and waiting some more (albeit 3 minutes) is not so fun.

"If at first you don't succeed, try, try, (and try) again."

- Hell if I know who said it-