Day 218

I'm going to link up with Goodnight Moon's Music Meme today, because this song has been on my mind - even if not on my mp3 player - the past few days.

If I had a Playlist for this Deployment, it would start with Sheila Chandra's "Ever So Lonely" and end with this song:

Carrie Rodriguez

"Got Your Name On It"

I've got you name on it -

This heart of mine.

I've got our name on it -

This soul of mine.

I've got your name on it -

This body of mine.

This body of mine -

Got your name on it.

I've been chopping wood.

I've been mining gold.

I've been looking good,

So I've been told.

I go out at night.

This body of mine...

This body of mine -

Got your name on it.

Another tree falls down.

I watch it hit the ground.

I'm so misunderstood.

I keep on chopping wood.

I've got your name on it -

This heart of mine.

I've got your name on it-

This soul of mine.

I've got your name on it -

This body of mine.

This body of mine -

Got your name on it.

I've got your name on it

This airplane ticket of mine.

I've got your name on it -

These running shoes of mine.

I've got your name on it -

This Grey Goose of mine.

I've got your name on it -

This gray b-movie of mine (?).

I've got your name on it -

This Chopin of mine.

I've got your name on it -

This body of mine.

This body of mine -

Got your name on it...

Day 219

We're getting closer and closer to Day 200, and I'm so excited for that!

But I'm even more excited to see my Zee again. This separation has been as difficult as I'd expected it to be, and I feel myself becoming numb to the pain of it all.

If you haven't lived at all in your life, you might not know that numbness is a bad thing.

So I'm so happy to be seeing my girl again soon, and to feel everything as vividly as I used to. I'm always surprised at the amount of emotion and vitality she brings out of me.

Until then, this book rang my bell the other night.

Wishful Drinking by Carrie Fisher - I'd heard it was funny, and I was so ready for some good laughs, brought to me by one of the icons and role models of my childhood.

But I should know better than to judge a book by it's cover (or by amateur readers' opinions).

This book was good - don't get me wrong. It was just... different.

It was less a structured biography, and more stream of consciousness.

She would jump from topic to topic - sometimes not even finishing her last thought.

It was as though she had dictated the book to a stenographer and then never bothered to edit.

But what makes this book memorable is its depictions of Debbie Reynolds - the most eccentric mother ever, the self-deprecating approach Fisher takes to her entire life, and then her portrayal of her bipolar and manic-depressive personality.

I found this last part very interesting, since I have e-met Beckie (Turn for the Nurse) and Jessa (Doxie Noodle) in my blogosphere adventures. Both ladies have openly talked about their {dis?}orders and how they cope. So following their blogs gave me a unique approach to Fisher's book.

Reading Wishful Drinking, Fisher's bi-polar disorder wasn't some distant and made-up thing. I read her biography and wondered if that's how my new friends would describe the disorder as well.

Overall it was a very fun book (if you could handle the random, unstructured monologue), and some of the stories in there deserve retelling. But I was glad that it gave me something to think about. Her struggle (which included electroshock therapy !!!) was memorable and her attitude humbling.

Carrie Fisher might be a crazy alcoholic, but she owns it. And I think that's why she's still my idol. :)

Day 220

I promised myself that I would go to bed early tonight (despite having already taken a nap) so I will try to keep this short.

A couple weeks ago there was Facebook Drama when I tried to speak out against the King Hearings held in New York.

And my statement got misconstrued as an attack on Christianity...

Remind me to never use Christian Terrorism in juxtaposition with Islamic Terrorism.

Anyhow, the drama ended when I restated myself, removing the confusion, and easing everyone's fear of myself becoming a terrorist.


Or so I thought.

This is the drama I spoke of yesterday.

Yesterday morning I checked the mail and found I'd received my birthday card from my grandmother. Inside the usual card was the usual birthday money.

Also inside the usual card was an unusual note. This note told me that my comment on Facebook saddened her heart because she herself is a "radical Christian" (the term I used to define Christian extremists), and there's nothing wrong with being radical. And she told me that Jesus loved me, I needed to accept this, because I was heading down a dark and dangerous path.


I think that anyone who reads my blog on a regular basis knows I'm not on any dark nor dangerous path.


The question now is how to handle this. I'm sure you're thinking I should just call her, but I'm passive-aggressive and non-confrontational.

The last time I tried to confront somebody (because that's what everyone says you should do) I was shaking so badly I could hardly get my words out.

In any case, my grandmother and I speak about twice a year, and that's fine with me. We've not been close since I was toddler. I'm used to this by now.

So my best option is to write her back.

My first letter was shot down by Zee, who pointed out that I was being as rash and judgmental as my grandmother. (Well, we are related after all.)

My second letter wasn't a letter - simply the entire Facebook conversation printed off, showing my grandmother that if she'd only taken the time to read the whole thing, she'd have never written me that way. This idea was shot down by my mother, because apparently it's childish.

My third letter I wrote this afternoon while I was desperately tired and trying to avoid a nap. This one, too, was shot down by my mother. She says it's "acceptable" but that it "wasn't loving."

Pfft. I ended the letter with "I love you very much." How is that not loving?

Day 221

Ugh.

(I warn that there's "offensive language" in this post. I only say this because I don't think I type "offensive language" very often, but I speak it so much that, at the end of this day, I can only type what I am actively thinking.)

The girl at work who is at the front desk with me is going to be asking questions of our bosses.

Questions that could lead to her being fired.

This is upsetting me for two huge reasons.

One - She's awesome, responsible, and fun to work with. We complement each other and do great things for the salon together.

Two - If she starts asking these questions very soon, my mini-vacay with Zee will be seriously, seriously, seriously threatened. I'm already sad that I'm not getting to spend the full two weeks of Zee's leave with her. I am positive that my heart will collapse.

I'm also positive that if my job demands that I give up my time with Zee, I will flat-out quit my job. I need this job, yes, but I can always find another job. I can't find another Zee.

This, my ladies ( & gents?), is what we call stress.

To distract myself, I bought a shit-ton of books today.

But other drama happened today that I won't even get into now, so the retail therapy made only the slightest dent in my bad mood.

To give this post a less unhappy tone, I'm going to do this "Me: A to Z" thing I've seen floating around.

I have never been much into memes like these, but hey. What the fuck. I got new followers who demand to know who they're following. (Or maybe that's my ego speaking...)

Without further ado...

The One and Only KINDLE

From A to motherf***ing Z

A. Age: 24

B. Bed size: Queen. It's beautiful.

C. Chore you dislike: All.

D. Dogs: Fuck'em. They are demanding and loud. I like prissy kitties. However, we will be getting dogs because Zee is allergic to cats. Woe.

E. Essential start to your day: Managing to get out of bed.

F. Favorite color: Purple!

G. Gold or silver: Silver. For some reason, gold looks trashy on me.

H. Height: 5' 6.5"

I. Instruments you play(ed): Your mom.

J. Job title: "Salon Coordinator" But I prefer "Future Queen of the World."

K. Kids: No, thank you.

L. Live: Tennessee. I've already told Zee what it will take to get me to live in a colder climate.

M. Mom’s name: Melanie

N. Nick names: Giggle, Benz

O. Overnight hospital stays: None, although I did take an emergency midnight trip once when I had a severe allergic reaction to a Grapple (hybrid fruit of grapes and apples).

P. Pet peeves: Speech impediments. I don't care if you can't help it. I'm sorry. I can't talk to you.

Q. Quote from a movie: "THIS. IS. SPARTAAA!!!!!!!"

R. Righty or lefty: Righty, wanna be lefty.

S. Siblings: Two, both younger, both diabetic. Zac, 21, and Hannah, 18.

T. Time you wake up: It depends on the week. Either 6:00 AM (booooo) or 9:30 AM (...eh.)

U. Underwear: Aerie panties, Walmart bras. Classssssy.

V. Vegetables you don't like: PEAS. Ugh. Yick. No. NEVER. Also - Do beets count? Those are gross too.

W. What makes you run late: Texting/Talking with Zee, reading, daydreaming, food, movies/tv, showers. Basically - everything.

X. X-rays you’ve had: Teeth, Backbone. ...I think that's it. I've been pretty accident free, because I'm amazing. **knock on wood til it breaks**

Y. Yummy food you make: Yeah....

Z. Zoo animal favorites: KITTIES! And Giraffes! And Elephants! But mostly the kitties!!!!

Day 222

Day 222! What a beautiful number!

(...not as beautiful as Day 0...)

This will be my 142nd post, which means I've only missed one day in this blog.

But maybe I should miss more days, in extreme circumstances at least...

Because I should never post while drunk. Ugh. I can't remember half of what I said, and I honestly don't want to go back and read it. I'll wait til next week to find out what embarrassing things I might have said.

I only remember proof-reading the post and having multiple spelling errors to fix.

Yes.... I am that drunkie who still insists on being grammatically correct.

Today has been the exact opposite of yesterday in terms of productiveness. I don't mind.

I slept, I ate, I watched tv with my mom, I sorted through Zee's clothes (two piles: allowed and not allowed), and drank a beer to try and ward off extra hangoverness.

I did accomplish one very important thing today:

I believe I have finally solidified my mom's love of Bollywood.

Of Course, I can't take all the credit for this. It's really all about Shah Rukh Khan.

Day 223

First off, I want to apologize for the "pity party." That was not my intention.

Secondly, I want to thank EVERYONE for their very kind birthday wishes and responses. :) Y'all rock!!

And thirdly, when I say it "was not my intention," I truly mean it.

I was reflecting earlier on all the military blogs I follow, and I came to a conclusion. It was one I assumed I would come to, but it was nice to have proof in the end.

I am no different from any of the military girlfriends/wives out there - not, at least, according to their blogs.

The only differences are vague and nearly inconsequential - after all, how many of you have thought, "Hmm, maybe I'll include tampons in this care package..."?

Haha, but really. I assumed there wouldn't be that many differences, because the feminist and "equal rights" advocate in me demands there shouldn't be.

And there are some few differences, obviously.

But a part of me though there might have been more. A part of me thought I would have more to offer, being a gay military girlfriend.

However, the truth is that the experience state-side is very similar. The only difference is the amount of privilege you are allowed.

The amount of privilege you are allowed has nothing to do with the emotions you experience.

We all experience loss.

We all experience sadness and suffering.

We all find different ways to cope.

We all deal with mood swings of varying degrees.

And so, considering all these similar emotional experiences, I found myself falling into a very typical (**ahem**) "milspouse" trap on my birthday.

On March 25, 2011, I caught myself thinking - in the midst of a very boisterous pity party - "Well, at least your boyfriend/girlfriend isn't in a war-zone...."

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat.

The.....

FUUUUUUUUUCK???

Seriously???? Did I just think that??

Who gives a fuck if I said it or not --

(I didn't...)

-- just thinking it is shameful enough.

I thought that for -literally- half a second, and I was immediately so embarrassed for my absurd degree of self-absorption - absurd even for me.

Ok, so my birthday was pretty lame. Big freakin' whoop. Did it change anything? Did anyone's lives hurt because of it?

No.

No, not even mine.

Even if someone's biggest complaint that night was because someone stiffed them on a tip, that complaint is valid and I should respect that. How dare I lord my misery over someone else's - even in my own thoughts?

And it occurred to me that this is something I've witnessed in other "mil"-spouse/girlfriend(s). And I realized that I'm not so different.

I'm not sure if that was comforting or not.

But I do know for an absolute fact that there are so many people out there who don't know what love is. There are so many people just hoping and praying they can find that one person who completes them.

And I know that the story of how Zee and I found each other is unusual, and I know we have our fair share of problems, but I do know that no one can love me like she can. And I know that is something that should never be taken for granted, no matter how horrible my mood and my world my seem.

So thank you for my birthday wishes, but please don't think I was trying to garner any attention. Truly - and I mean this - my main point was that I am lucky to be loved. I know this. I cherish this. And anytime I am feeling down and miserable, I focus on this beautiful and irrefutable fact.

I am happy and truly have so much to be grateful for.

Including all of you wonderful readers. Thank you. Thank You. Thank You!!

P.S. - No offense?

P.P.S. - I realize this is like............... 2.5 hours late. But, you know what? I'm still counting it as a daily post because I still haven't slept yet.

P.P.P.S. - I am basically drunk as I write this biiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttccccccccchhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeessssssssssssss. :D

Day 224

Happy Birthday to me...

Not gonna lie - today sucks. I woke up, crying, because it's my birthday and Zee isn't here.

I went to work, wondering how I was going to make it through. It seemed like I was going to cry at everything - the weather, the guests, the birthday card from my coworkers...

I went into the break room (to see how many Facebook Birthday Wishes I'd gotten...) and saw that I missed a call from Zee.

How do you spell "upset" again?

Oh. Right. I-M-I-S-S-E-D-A-C-A-L-L-F-R-O-M-Z-E-E

We chatted for a couple minutes. She was having a bad day, but didn't want to talk about it. She was just calling to say Happy Birthday and that she loved me.

When I said, "I miss you," I started to lose it. Just that wave of emotion where you feel as though you're falling into this black pit without end.

There was a part of me that wanted to let Zee know how unhappy I was feeling, but the bigger part of me wanted to save face. Plus, I know Zee doesn't like for me to be sad, and she was having a bad day too. And, honestly, I feel stupid and selfish for being upset about my birthday.

We hung up. I cried. I muffled my sobs by eating cake. I went back to work.

I should have known better, but Zee can still surprise me. I go back into the break room an hour later, and I have a voicemail from Zee.

"Baby, I'm sorry. Don't be upset. I love you."

How did she know?

Anyways, I called back (thank you, Skype on my Phone, for always being there for me), and we ended up talking for 20 minutes, which is, like, crazy talk considering how un-chatty my Ms. Zee is.

Those 20 minutes saved my entire day.

Maybe I am spending the night alone in my apartment.

Maybe I'm not being showered with presents.

Maybe my family is out with their friends.

Maybe my friends d0 all live an hour away.

But none of that matters.

Because I have someone who loves me more than anything.

Happy Birthday To Me. :)

Day 225

Drew Barrymore won the vote! I'm going Blonde Baby in five weeks! I'll have to do a trillion before&after pictures.

In other news, there is no other news.

How shall I make this post interesting?

How about I'll briefly share a concern with you:

I have no idea how to get onto base.

Even though I still have seven-ish months left (I hope) before Zee's homecoming, I'm already worried. I've never gone onto base in my own vehicle. I've never not been accompanied by a service member or wife. I've never even driven on base.

But say I figure out how to make my way past all that security. Where do I go from there? I know there's an airfield, but I don't know its location. Is there a limit in who I can bring with me? What are the rules for homecoming? Am I even allowed to go?

How do I know when the plane will land? Do I just guesstimate based off when she says they're boarding the last plane?

How does this whole thing work?

Day 226

I have hair on my mind today. Not just because I work in a salon.

It’s on my mind because I’m contemplating great changes in my hair future.

One – I’m growing it out. I’m going from mo-hawk to mo-length.

Even though this fauxhawk is beyond delicious.

I haven’t had “long hair” in almost three years. I had completely forgotten what it feels like. I had forgotten how annoying showers are. I had forgotten what ponytails feel like.

And it’s not even “long” yet.

I originally started growing my hair last May, since it’s really hard to change up your style with only an inch of hair. And I’m that girl that wants to switch up haircuts about every two months.

But when I told Zee I was growing my hair, that honey girl got excited. There was even a time (or two…) when she would grab what little hair I had, pull it out as far as it would go, and then, with a forceful glare, demand, “Grow!”

So I now have two reasons to let my hair get longer than I’d like. I did get it cut today, however. It’s been three months. And after three whole months of growth, it wasn’t looking long so much as unkempt.

 

Now, the second great change is far, far scarier than the first.

I’m thinking of going blonde…

Ok. More than thinking. I know I’m going to go blonde. In about five weeks actually.

This is terrifying for so many reasons.

One, I’m afraid of frying my hair.

Two, black hair (with purple highlights) is the look for me. Even my own mother says this is her favorite color on me.

Three, in highschool (so…seven/eight years ago?), I was blonde, and… Ugh. I thought it looked good at the time? But now I think of the color and just shudder. It was wrong. So wrong.

However, my best friend (you might have heard of her – Heather from Altogether Heather – remember that amazing girl?) has been every color in the book except black, and she looks gorgeous in each color. And I figure, if she can rock blondes, golds, browns, and reds, surely I can handle more than brown and black (and purple).

So. I have to try it. I have to try a real professional blonde. Not the accident that happened in high school when I got too many bad highlights from my cousin.

To prepare myself, I did some online renders. I’ve already shown these to Zee, my family, and friends. I know their preference, but I would like yours too.

I think you would be honest and unbiased. <3

(ignore the haircuts – just look at the color)

This is my natural, happy, pale skin, even though this picture was taken in the Summer of 2006 when I was a camp counselor for baby 4 and 5-year olds.

Option 1 – The Nancy Drew

Option 2 – The Wanna-Be-Paris

Option 3 – The Drew Barrymore

So please, my dear cherished readers, let me know your thoughts. Which blonde would do best? Is there another option I hadn’t considered? Should I stay away from blonde all together?

My mom has already threatened to love me less if I go blonde.

Would you?

Day 227

Ok. I’m feeling better. Like, not flu-like anymore. I’m still playing it safe, but I’m extremely grateful for my kick-ass immune system!

This past weekend my mother discovered a treasure trove of family photos in my grandmother’s closet, and it was so much fun going through all these ancient photographs and memories. We even found a picture of my grandmother when she was in the first grade! And there was a postcard in the mix that was written 99 years ago!

Like I said – So much fun. There were a lot of relatives we didn’t know, and some we had only sketchy memories of, but mom was able to piece all of it together. Hannah and I would try our best to make guesses and family connections, but we mostly failed. Mom has resolved to put together a family scrapbook for us.

One of the coolest parts was seeing our ancestors playing in the front yard of the same house we live in. And one of the best parts was discovering photos of ourselves.

So I’m going to share a couple with you of yours truly.

Because with my birthday in just a few days, it only seems appropriate.

And also…

Because I was such a damn cute kid!

You know you want to pinch those cheeks and cuddle that chubby, baby body.

My favorite thing about Baby Me is that my facial expressions haven’t changed one bit. Here is my CHEEEEESE grin:

Oh yeah – I’m a goober and made for the camera.

This is just a pretty photo. I would love to blow this up to poster size.

Hahahahaha – Yes, I’m on the toilet, but that’s beside the point. This was my grandparent’s bathroom when I was growing up. This is the house my mother grew up in. I was always fascinated by all the bizarre and antique things in there, like my grandfather’s shaving lather. The whole room smelled weird, like something old but clean. Anyways, what amuses me is that this is clearly a demonstration of my love of books – even before I could fully read, I was trying to read, no matter the time or place.

This picture is all about the expression.

Let me Clarify:

Hahaha, oh, Baby Kindle, you are precious. I kiss you from the future.

Day 228

The number 1 way to tell if Kindle doesn't feel well:

If she willingly drinks Alka-Seltzer.

The flu has been going around the salon, and now I'm not feeling too hot (i.e. too hot).

Hitting the sack early tonight.

Just me and the Alka-Seltzer (aka That-Which-Makes-Kindle-Gag-With-Its-Grossness).

Peace out, folks.

Day 229

It's so odd....

I've been noticing a disturbing trend of people being ashamed of alcohol, and this baffles me.

Is there something wrong with delicious, intoxicating beverages?

Granted - drinking and driving is dangerous and deadly.

But... if you have a Designated Driver... if you watch your limit... if you're safe at home... if you're within walking distance of someplace to crash...

If any one of those qualifications is fulfilled, drink your heart out!

It's nothing to hide or be embarrassed about (unless you have an addiction - but let's be honest, any addiction is embarrassing).

So I'm going to say it, here, now, and forevermore...

(and, yes, I know my mother reads this blog, but she already knows this)

...I love to drink. I love to feel intoxicated. I love the buzz. I will even tolerate the hangovers for the joy of losing some of my more cumbersome inhibitions.

I do my best to be safe about it, and I do my best to drink only when it's responsible. Case in Point: Today, I really wanted to drink (read: get drunk). However! I know that I need to be awake in seven-ish hours, and I don't want to deal with a hangover at that time. So rather than worry about sobering up early tonight, I just didn't drink at all.

But in any case...

Give me wine. Give me beer. Give me tequila, rum, and gin.

Let's drink!

Day 230

I haven't felt well today. Some of it is a result from having too long of a day yesterday and having too many sweet drinks (frozen margaritas followed by vanilla beer - uuuugh).

But a lot of it has been emotional. Several of my coworkers have been asking me what it's like to go through a deployment state-side. One girl says she can't hardly go eight hours without seeing her boo, let alone months at a time.

I simply tell them that there are good days and bad days. Good days where life seems quasi-normal, tasks are easy to focus on and accomplish, and contact with Zee is icing on the cake.

But then there are bad days where I feel as though I've forgotten what she's like, there are too many things I need to do but can't find the energy for, and hearing from Zee is a life-saver come just in time.

Today was one of the bad ones. They happen, you know?

But nothing bad happened. I was able to chat with Zee for several minutes while I was shopping in Walmart for her next package. It was fun, easy conversation, with warm laughter and love. I was in a good mood.

I finished her package, but was unable to send it because the silly Post Office likes to close early on Saturdays.

And this threw me off for some reason.

As I can be a very analytical person, I reflected on this abrupt mood swing. It then occurred to me that bad days are not necessarily normal. They are bound to happen, but they are the deviation.

In the first few months of Zee's departure, I figured out a set of ways to cope with her absence. This blog, my emails and letters to her, and some strict(-ish) goal setting have all helped me come to terms with this next year. In that beginning period, my relationship with Zee was outlined for me - here is what it will be like, this is what you can expect, this is your new "normal."

On my good days, I live within those boundaries and expectations. I can cope with the heart-ache.

But if some emotional aberration occurs... It can knock me off balance. That is when the bad day begins.

A bad day isn't sulking, nor is it a pity party.

A bad day is the time period wherein you try to regain your balance.

I noticed this because, when I was experiencing my bad mood earlier, I would go back and forth between two extremes.

In one moment, I couldn't understand my relationship with Zee - I haven't seen her in so long, how much can I say I really know her now, what can I realistically expect when she comes home anyways? It was as though I was trying to push her away from me.

Then in the next, I was feeling needy and clingy. I couldn't help but focus intensely on my emotions for her, running through our memories like a video set on fast-forward.

I realized then that these are both ways of coping. One is a defense mechanism - push her away so her absence won't hurt anymore - and the other is, well, defense through preservation - hyper-focusing to never lose the feeling, the memories, and the relationship.

Neither is how I live my day-to-day. I have my happy balance, but I can see now that, if my equilibrium is thrown off, I will oscillate between these two instinctive reactions. And they are such vastly different emotional approaches to a problem, that it's no wonder the emotional stress can result in a bad day.

And my bad day is only resolved when I've once again found my center, my compromise. That place where I can push my emotions (and therefore Zee) aside enough to focus on my daily functions, but where I can also feed my love, and feed the ache of her absence, so that I never lose sight of how much I adore her.

So I went through all our pictures, I watched a video she made for our 6 Month Anniversary, I cried, and then I slept.

I'm feeling better now.

In fun news, this blog entry is brought to you by my new keyboard. That's right, folks - I officially know how to remove and install a laptop keyboard. If any of you fine ladies (or gents) need instructions regarding the keyboard of a Toshiba NB 305, just give me a holler.

Day 231

Yes! I made it to my Three-Day-Weekend!!

Just in time for the

over at Lydia at With Love.

I think I shall find some new peeps to follow today.

ALSO

You should check this out.

I have found this blog to be absolutely heart-warming.

Adults of all genders send in a picture from their childhood and a brief story that tells (and shows!) that identifying as gay isn't a choice. It's often very apparent from an early, early age.

I believe the only "choice" in being gay is deciding if you want to BE WHO YOU ARE or if you want to lie your entire life in order to "fit in."

Still, there are some completely adorable stories in there. (I think the little boy making out with the Ceasar/Augustus bust is THE CUTEST THING EVER!)

Anyways, you ladies have an amaaaaaazing weekend. I started mine with a wake-up call from Zee - oh how I love love love that girl!! - and I'll end it with birthday drinks with a good friend. Happy Times!

Day 232

I'm a hoooooooorrible person.

Because I've never really celebrated St. Patrick's Day before.

Ok, that doesn't make me horrible.

But still.

I went to a concert once - and it was last year.

In general, St. Patty's always feels like just another day, so usually I forget to wear green.

Like today!

I got lucky though! I arrived to work and Boss-Lady immediately asked if I wore green today.

I froze. Oh shit. I forgot.

I opened my coat and looked down to see what I'd put on this morning (because, yes, I'd just thrown things on without caring).

What did I see?

Gorgeous, emerald, perfect-for-Patty Greeeeeeeeeeeeen!

I could breathe a sigh of relief. For once I have escaped the jokes and pinches.

Go, me!

I've bounced back and forth on the idea of purchasing a six-pack to celebrate the occasion, buuuuuut...

...I have to be up early tomorrow for a long day.

And I figure I'll be drinking tomorrow night.

Close enough.

Oh! I have a date tomorrow night!

Haha, it's ok. Zee knows.

A friend of mine is wanting a fake girlfriend to take to a play (Hamlet) put on by the kids he teaches. Apparently he's tired of the little snots thinking he's lame for being perpetually dateless. I don't mind the ruse at all. I haven't been out in a while, haven't seen him in a while, and I enjoy Shakespeare.

Besides, every now and then, it's kinda fun to be needed solely for my good looks.

Day 233

How did I miss this??

Apparently some beautiful Representatives are introducing a new bill, called the Respect for Marriage Act, that will make the Defense of Marriage Act completely defunct.

Yay!!

I find it funny that I read this after having a very vivid dream of mine and Zee's future wedding...

Oh, yeah. It's going to happen, whether the Southern Baptists like it or not!

Well, it's going to happen when Zee asks. And Zee knows that I don't want to get married until it's recognized by all 50-damn-tastic States.

Because I refuse to be recognized as married in one part of my country, but not in another.

Now that this wheel is in motion, all that's left is for the stooooooooopid Military to quit being lazy, bureaucratic bums and officially enact the repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell.

Because at the rate we're going, when Zee's plane finally lands, I'll have to act like we're just really good friends instead of lovers who have been separated for a year.

And as a girl who was formerly in the closet, let me tell you, that is the most difficult act of all.

Day 234

I suppose I can take my nose out of my new book for just a few minutes, if only to fulfill my goal of posting every day that Zee is gone.

(Oops! Almost typed her real name!)

I'm starting with "Unprotected Texts" by Jennifer Wright Knust. And, wow, so far, so fabulous. She has me looking at the Bible is a whole new light, and I'm loving it!

And one offhand remark about women's role in childbearing has for once brought me to understand how women were oppressed for centuries.

In a time where increasing the population was imperative to survival, humanity's existence depended on women reproducing.

What an incredible burden. Especially since just one child takes nearly a year to cook. Especially especially when that child could miscarriage, because they didn't know about prenatal vitamins. Especially especially especially when the kid could still die in infancy and childhood because of a myriad of ancient, third-world problems.

How many pregnancies did a single woman have to go through in order to support her family and community? How many times did she have to ravage her body to produce just a few children?

How many women actually lived through even one pregnancy? How many women were able to survive past the age of 26?

And they had little or no choice. Children had to be born.

So when a woman's main purpose in life (back then) is to be, quite literally, human livestock that will likely give out in a matter of years due to the stress of birthing just a few children, not to mentions the every day perils of ancient life, why would you invest time and resources into her education?


I can understand it now. But I don't like it. And I still don't think it excuses the way women were treated like mere property, under the word of the law.

And I am so damn grateful that I was born in this century. Even if I am still oppressed, at least I'm not considered cattle.

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Day 235

I'm SO EXCITED! Today I came home to my birthday present from the most wonderful girlfriend in the world!

And it completely makes up for all the sadness and lethargy I've been feeling, and all the bank issues I'm having to deal with.

:D I love you, Zee!! Thank you!!

Location : 160-186 Sanders Ferry Rd, Hendersonville, TN 37075,
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Day 236

I know you have no reason to care about Bollywood, but this movie, Dostana, had my sister and I cracking up tonight.p It also helped distract me from the fact that Stupid Daylight Savings caused me to miss my Skype Date with Zee. :(

Two guys pretend to be gay in order to move into a swanky apartment that belongs to the niece of a very protective aunt.

Hilarity ensues as they try to keep up the charade, while dealing with the trials of falling for their beautiful roommate.

This video plays when one of the mothers gets the SHOCKING news that her son is "gay."

If you've never seen a Bollywood film before, this would be a great place to dip your toes into the awesome waters called Indian Film.

Day 237

These Princess videos and the Promise of a SKYPE DATE with my boo have made today a beautiful day.

But don't think you've escaped the brilliance of my vlogtasticness yet! I'm in the process of conceptualizing videos for
The Top 5 Reasons I Should Rule Mexico and

The Top 5 Reasons to Be a Lesbian!

Oh yeah. This is happening.

Day 238

Yes, another VLOGGY-VLOG.

But, I put a little more effort in this time.

So do you forgive me?

Links:

Google's Crisis Response for Japan 2011

Red Cross Donations

Miscellaneous ways to donate to Japan Relief

One of the Many articles covering the hearings of the American Muslim Community.

Day 239

Day 240

Does This Vlog Make My Butt Look Fat?

Day 241

....

......

........

After months of being too chubby, I fit into my nice dress slacks today.

....

.......

.........

Nobody noticed.

Location : 232-240 Sanders Ferry Rd, Hendersonville, TN 37075,
Posted with love via Blogaway

Day 242

This is how I know when my hair is the right amount of purple.

Location : 232-240 Sanders Ferry Rd, Hendersonville, TN 37075,
Posted with love via Blogaway

Day 243

Inp goodp newsp myp keyboardp isp kindap workingp again.

Inp badp news,p it'sp gotp somep quirksp sop I'llp stillp needp top rep lacep it.

Wh6eneverp IP p ressp th6ep "sp acep bar,"p itp givesp mep ap "p ."p Wh6eneverp Ip p ressp "p "p itp givesp mep ap "sp ace."

"H^"p givesp mep ap "h6."p Andp vice-versa.

Deletep givesp mep ap p eriod.

"K"p inp th6ep lowercasep makesp myp browserp gop top ap f4ullp screen.

"L"p inp microsof4tp wordp p ullsp up p th6ep "save"p op tion.

"F$"p givesp mep ap "f4."p Andp vice-versa.

Ip can'tp p ressp andp h6oldp th6ep backsp acep button,p andp myp righ6tp sh6if4tp onlyp worksp with6p somep of4p th6ep letters.

Th6isp h6asp madep myp typ ingp exp eriencep very....p interesting.



Edited:

In good news my keyboard is kinda working again.

In bad news, it's got some quirks so I'll still need to replace it.

Whenever I press the "space bar," it gives me a "p." Whenever I press "p," it gives me a "space."

"H" gives me a "6." And vice-versa.

Delete gives me a period.

"K" in the lowercase makes my browser go to a full screen.

"L" in microsoft word pulls up the "save" option.

"F" gives me a "4." And vice-versa.

I can't press and hold the backspace button, and my right shift only works with some of the letters.

This has made my typing experience very.... interesting.

Day 244

Still posting from my phone. Boo.

My mother is angry. And when she's angry, she acts very immature towards us. And her only mode of communication is either yelling or complete silence.

As a result, I'm very angry at her because of her behavior. However, I have no idea how to confront her. She's my MOTHER. How do you tell your mom, whom you love and respect, that she needs to grow up?

Location : 232-240 Sanders Ferry Rd, Hendersonville, TN 37075,
Posted with love via Blogaway

Day 245

I miss my girlfriend.

Also... drunk. Ish. Maybe. Working on it.

I deserve it. Still have over 200 miserable days to go.

Also ... have I mentioned that people have been quitting left and right at my salon? Without giving two week notices??

I hate my job. If only because bitches don't know how to quit the right way.

Excuse me while I work on my third glass of whine....

Location : 232-240 Sanders Ferry Rd, Hendersonville, TN 37075,
Posted with love via Blogaway

Day 246

I'll admit it.

I've been slacking in the exercise department.

To make up for this gross breach of New Year Resolution, I have resolved to run/walk/jog for 30 minutes every single day until Zee lands and is in my arms for her leave.

If I am to accomplish this goal, I have to use my apartment's sad excuse for a "gym." It's a tiny little room with three machines, a pad, and NO VENTILATION.

I suffered through it yesterday, and today came prepared with my own personal space fan. It worked literal wonders.

However, it seems the stuffy air was more than inconvenient yesterday - it was harmful as well.

When I ante'd up to a full run (i.e. jog), I couldn't get a full breath. My lungs hurt.

My sore lungs could only handle five minutes of running, so I speed-walked the rest of my exercise on a steep-ish incline.

I still feel like a wuss.

Zee has also been slacking on her workouts. Bad little soldier!! ;)

But she is now making a strong, soldierly effort to get back in shape. She's even going bed earlier (thereby cutting our chatting time short) so she can go running before doing whatever it is she does throughout the day.

It makes me happy to know, by her own admission, that she's determined to get shape so she can be teh uber-sexiness for me on her leave.

:D I love loving a girl - this one most of all.

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Day 247

If I post pictures from my phone, what will it look like, I wonder...?

Regardless, I'm attempting All Dressed Up, sans computer.

First picture, top half. Second picture, bottom half. Third picture, bizarre full view.

Sweater - Maurices

Dress - Walmart

White undershirt - sport bra from Walmart

Magenta Tights - Macy's

Black Flats that I wear with everything - Ross Dress For Less, which is the most ridiculously long store name ever.

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Day 248

Well, we knew it had to happen.

I'm a klutz with bad luck.

Nothing bad had happened aaaaall February.

So of course we had to start March off with a bang.

This blog is brought to you courtesy of my phone, as my keyboard is malfunctioning due to a glass of mostly melted ice cubes that fell on it at 3am on March 1.

Water damage isn't bad, but, since I'd been drinking sweet tea, it's fatal.

And since it was 3am and I was asleep (i can't help it that I just HAD to cuddle my pillow and it just HAPPENED to be too close to my glass which was APPARENTLY to my computer), I really was in no condition to do more than simply wipe it off.

Although, I've been reading, and there's not much more I could have done.

In any case, I've already found the replacement part for $40. I'll get to test out my installation skills in a few days.


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