Bikini or not to Bikini

If you've ever been to the beach you know the ratio of bikinis to hot babes is way out of proportion. More often than not you see chicks in bikinis that probably shouldn't be wearing one but at the same time it isn't obscenely gross either. You walk away saying, "What was she thinking?" Well here is your answer.

So why do these average, soft around the middle types wear string bikinis at the beach? I can tell you because believe it or not... I've done it. Please don't cringe... I'm not sure I'll ever do it again; but there is a reason I joined the ranks of those I'd criticized in my slimmer days.

Any girl can tell you that when you're not fat but don't have a hard, slim well-defined body bathing suits are especially cruel. I began my search for a swim suit to wear in Hawaii; and yes, I knew it was coming and like any typical girl I went and got a gym membership. The problem was that the gym only helped marginally - there is only so much you can do in three months without drugs and starvation (neither of which I'm willing to do) while working full time.

So the search is on; at first I exclusively tried on one-piece suits..... after all I knew how soft and wobbly my belly was. Now I know swim suits have to be tight so they don't get pulled off by the waves but seriously! Every suit I tried on that fit the leg holes and straps around the back and arms were always tight. So tight that the one piece suits actually created fat rolls in my back, gave me four butt cheeks and bulges just above the straps near my arm pits... eww gross! Now I know some of you are thinking, "Just get a bigger size." Well I tried that. I'm short and in the world of one piece suits bigger also means taller.... so I end up with a suit that doesn't bulge but has straps that reach my ears or a crotch that reaches my knees. What's a short, wobbly girl to do?

So now I've gone from having somewhat of a nice shape to rolls, bulges, and multiple cheeks that hadn't been there before. After days of shopping and a myriad of complains, a girlfriend of mine threw a blue polka-dot string bikini into the dressing room. "Just put it on!" she said. So I did.

I was amazed! No, I didn't look fabulous, but all the rolls and bulges were gone and I was back to my standard two butt cheeks. Not only were the bulges gone but it wasn't tight and the circulation to my legs was flowing normally. As I stared into the mirror I realized the problem. My tummy wasn't too attractive.... and I was looking at someone I would have thought shouldn't be in a bikini.

My choice was either a tight, uncomfortable one-piece that created unsightly bulges or a two piece that was comfortable but might have people shaking their heads at me saying, "What was she thinking?" Remembering the black one-piece at home that Love Of My Life referred to as the "baby seal" suit I made up my mind to buy the silly polka-dot bikini.

My first day in Hawaii I was too self-conscious to put it on... so off I went in my blue and white, full-coverage, vertical-stripe one-piece with the bulges and rolls. After being on the beach for a day I realize that I looked about like all those other not-ugly but not-pretty girls out there and I could handle that if it meant comfort.

So there you have it... those girls aren't attempting to say their mushy tummies and soft thighs are the next hottest thing.... bikinis are just more comfortable at least physically... it takes some mental courage to wear them and thus those girls should be applauded. I'm a little older now and a bit more squishy and I've discovered tankinis... perfect solution to cover the belly wobble... so you'll not see me in a bikini again (at least I say that now but comfort will rule out in the end!)

My Best

Ok... so all of you who are checking out the blog for the first time,

Please go read "Bats and Vampires in the Night" from August 8... it was the strange but true tale that got me started blogging... and just don't think they've been as good since.

Also, feel free to say hello... sometimes I wonder if anyone reads this except for my mother who always leaves messages... making me feel all warm inside (but that could be because she's my mom)... lol.

Christmas Vacation - The Last Leg / The Last Straw

December 24:

We woke up early that morning and caught the shuttle to the air port in the gently falling snow. Love of My Life was nervous and so was my stomach. Once in the airport Love Of My Life watched the weather and the flight information boards while I searched for Dramamine and Rolaids.

At the gate I sat munching Rolaids and reading while Love Of My Life paced by the wall of widows watching the snow fall. I could tell he was making observations and calculations about if we were going to board the plane at all. Not that the air line wouldn't fly... but we might not. Two hours rolled by and it was now 9:30 and we were still waiting on our plane to arrive from DC. I was nervous we'd spend another day in the airport... Love Of My Life was nervous the plane would take off in unsafe conditions.

We were both relieved when our plane arrived, the snow let up and the airport crew did a great job plowing the run way. Another hour later we finally boarded yet another tiny plane. The ride was bumpy but not as bad as the day before. Whether it was the Dramamine or calmer skies I couldn't tell you. I was just happy to still be in possession of my breakfast by the time we landed in Metropolis around lunch time.

Tired, hungry and happy to be home I embarked on a wonderful Christmas vacation with my mom, her two sisters, my brother and his family and in-laws and many more. It was a great Christmas. Everything was what it promised to be and I could not have been more at peace and content until the night before our flight home.

We'd packed up our presents and laid out our clothes to get up early and head to the airport. Finally in bed at 10:00 I realized I'd forgotten to go on-line and check in to print our boarding passes. I slipped out of bed and went to take care of this last detail so I could sleep. I logged onto the computer in the quite of the house and entered all the necessary information to pull up my flight itinerary.

Something had to be wrong. The bright screen said it could not find any reservations for me or my husband. Frustrated and logged off and logged in again three times knowing for sure there must be something wrong with my mother's internet connection. I search our original flight number that left Po-Dunk and pulled up our itinerary.

My heart began to pound and my mouth went dry as I realized we were no longer booked on any flight leaving Metropolis going back to Po-Dunk. We were no longer booked anywhere.... according to the airline website we'd completed our trip. Near tears and full of anger I scribbled down the 800 number and marched back to my room, phone in hand. I explained to Love Of My Life that when they re-booked us in Milwaukee they must have cancelled our return trip and gave him the phone.

I didn't even have the stomach to sit and listen to the argument that ensued so I left to fix myself some hot tea. Several minutes later I hear him march to the office and log onto the computer. "No, you'll stay on the phone with me until I've printed the boarding passes." was all I heard. Well at least we were going somewhere. It was one of those evenings I wished I could hang up adult hood and move back in with my mother.

Much to my relief Love Of My Life worked everything out and we were scheduled for our original trip out the next morning. And... fortunately for me, unfortunately for you.... there is nothing more to tell. The flight home was pretty smooth with no delays. Work began again and life moves on... but we'll never fly MidWest Airlines again.

Christmas Vaction - The First Leg

As so many people do, I look forward with great excitement to Christmas. My memories of Christmas time are beautiful memories of cut-out cookies, the smell of fresh cut pine, warm meals and cool crisp days. Even in my teens Christmas was magical and my mother somehow single-handily filled our home with love, joy and ... people. People who had nowhere to go were always welcome at our house. It seems over the years we all brought random guests to our home to include them and share our food and merriment. My mom had other single friends, my brother even brought home an exchange student from school one year and I managed to find every helpless stray teen boy who was struggling with his own family. So growing up our house was always full of people... and I'll never forget the meaning of Christmas is to share and to love... everyone. It never mattered that we'd never met this kid from Japan who was going to show up from college with my brother or that the guys from the VA were a little worn and ragged ... all were welcome.

While this is important to my story; I digress. This is just to illustrate why I have an overwhelming longing to return home for Christmas every year; one longing Love Of My Life doesn't understand at all. I feel the need for comfortable crowds of people all eating and cozily rubbing elbows. This Christmas promised joy of the deepest kind as both of my mother's sisters were going to be there celebrating with us along with my step sister's fiance and his family, my sister-in-law's sister and her family. All in all my mom was expecting 18-20 people for Christmas dinner. It was a Christmas of epic proportions and being 900 miles away and thinking I might miss it gave me the holiday blues.

Why you ask would I miss such an occasion? I'll blame it on the uncertainty of the military. Love Of My Life was deployed and scheduled to come home sometime "before Christmas". I've learned from experience that sometimes "before Christmas" can mean 4:30 a.m. Christmas Eve. Poor Love Of My Life was battered with questions about a concrete date he was coming home. I was desperate to buy plane tickets and each day I waited the prices climbed higher. I was so worried and a bit depressed that I didn't even bake cookies or decorate my home. I didn't even buy a tree... the first time in all the 6 years we've been married that I didn't buy a tree.

Then, on December 16 I got confirmation that he was coming home on the 21st. I felt the spotlight from heaven and angels singing as I rushed to search for flights home. The heavenly blessings continued to flow as I found round-trip tickets for $300 each! The normal price was around $600 so I was thrilled and ordered them right away.... we were going to get to stay for 10 days!

Little did I know that there is always a reason things are cheap.... even for plane tickets. No, it was not the inattention to detail on my part as some of you may guess. There were no hidden fees or overlooked restrictions. Even in the dead of winter it wasn't even weather trouble. It was simply a terrible airline attempting to salvage a little used route from po-dunk to metropolis with a layover in Milwaukee.

Tuesday, December 23:

Love of My Life is tired and worn from is flight back to the states two days before but he is gracious and supportive; keeping his grumbling from deflating my elation. My excitement builds as the cab arrives and steadily moves us to the airport while I munch on Rolaids like candy to calm my nervous stomach. In my enthusiasm I miss read the tickets and we are two hours earlier than necessary. Still my husband is patient as we sit and wait. He is stoically patient still, when my excitement upsets my stomach and I have to get something to eat right away and bring back bad airport subs they sell at the gate.

Our flight finally arrives and off we go to Milwaukee. I've flown in many small "connection" planes but this one was tiny. The skys were rough too.... I hope you see where this is going. I was all out of Rolaids by this point and I'm not sure they would have helped anyway. While sweating and turning green the plane finally landed and began to taxi to the gate. Love of My Life is holding my hand with silent encouragement not to revisit the bad subs from Po-Dunk Airport. It was all in vain... as we pulled into the gate I, discreetly as possible, filled the plastic-lined paper bag from the seat pocket in front of me. I felt immensely better but now had the sweats and shakes. Suddenly my joy melted into apprehension of the next leg of our journey.

We exited the plane with my little white bag and our carry-ons. Love of My Life quickly rushed to buy me a sprite as I sat down at the gate. Sitting there I looked up to the digital board to find our next gate. CANCELLED flashed in bright red next to our flight number. Sure it was snowing but it took me a minute to realize that ours was the only cancelled flight. So it wasn't the weather... everyone else was getting out. I didn't know if I was relieved or upset... both made me want to cry. (Love of My Life can tell you I'm a master at crying in the most helpful moments.... we once got a great apartment for cheap that way... but again I digress.)

Love of My Life reappeared with a sprite and once I pointed at the board he quickly went to "take care" of it. The sprite was good and helped me hold in the tears. He comes and picks up our carry-on luggage and his stoic patience is gone. In a heated but hushed tirade he informs me that he hates small planes, he is weary from traveling and being deployed, and he wants to spend Christmas at our home and in his own bed. Things were starting to unravel. Our flight was cancelled due to "Personnel Conflicts". No apology, no hotel room, nothing... only re-booked seats leaving tomorrow morning at 7:55 am with a front of snow coming in overnight. Once the stoic front broke, Love Of My Life's mind began working on how to end this awful trip - planes home, trains back to Po-Dunk, rental cars, hitchhiking... I think he might have even considered a hot air balloon.

The Holiday Inn Express desk clerks were impervious to my tears and drama about my soldier husband just returning from the Middle East two days ago and trying to get home to see family he hasn't seen in two years. While I do feel a bit bad about playing these cards (all of which are true) I was surprised that they were so unmoved by my plight. Not even a voucher for a drink at the bar.... some people have no compassion. It was an uneasy and fitful sleep that night.

Wednesday December 24:

Stay tuned.... Did Love Of My Life find a way for us to return to Po-Dunk and skip this whole messy business? Did we make to Metropolis for Christmas? Did I conquer my rebellious stomach on the next leg of our journey? Is there a happy ending? You'll find out when I get around to it. :)

Hair Trauma

Thin hair with a bit of wave can be boring; especially when you have no interest in spending time primping in front of the mirror. So in college I cut it very short, about 3 inches long all around. While I was confident I didn't look like a boy - I didn't look too feminine either. Once my hair grew out again I did long layers and it has been that way for the past 7 years. Boring!

So Love Of My Life gets deployed to the Middle East for three months and I jump at the chance to mess with my hair. All you girls know how guys get about hair; so you know why I waited. My wild hair for a change turns into a bunch of wild hairs. A spiral perm (no matter how big the curls) was a terrible idea. I knew from the moment the rods starting coming out of my hair that I'd made a colossal mistake. Talk about a throw back to the 70s, I looked like a free-love hippy. Part of the choice to perm was that I thought it would be a wash and go type situation. Well after the perm fried my thin hair it was nothing

but curl and frizz.

At least I had the sense to laugh. And laugh I did; all the way home in fact. When I got home I followed my first survival instinct when things go horribly wrong in life - I called my mother. Of course there was no way to describe my new do so I snapped a few pictures and sent them.

Always diplomatic and supportive my mom remarks that "it doesn't look bad". I laugh at her evasion and attempt to get her to say it looks terrible. After prodding I finally got her to say "Well, I wouldn't like it on me." Close enough.

With no remorse and high hopes of restoration of boring hair I washed my hair the very next morning with lots of pulling and brushing. Then I blew it dry using a brush to pull it straight. Surprisingly it worked. My hair was still fried and the perm was tenacious but the next day at work no one noticed anything.

I decide never to tell Love Of My Life about my $80 lapse in judgement. In the end we went to visit my family and I decided to tell him on the way there just in case my mom brought it up. She did; and he still makes fun of me.

Now, four months later my poor hair is still dry and damaged but at least it is growing out.

Early Morning Humiliation

The mystery began on a cool fall Thursday morning. Because I'm a little vain and touched with the family curse of being wide awake by 5:00 am every morning (without an alarm), I work out. I was pulling into the drive around 6:30 am after working out at the gym when I noticed my garbage, only hours before in nice clean white plastic bags, is now littering the driveway and street.

First I curse the mischievous little animal that has obviously just had a meal worthy of a holiday and friends from my garbage. Then I curse the garbage pickup that often comes at 6:30 am. You see, I must put the bags out by the road before I leave to work out or I might miss them before I roll back home at 6:30. Who wants to carry out the garbage when they are achy and longing for a shower anyway?

I glance at the clock wondering if I can possibly clean up and re-bag the mess before the sanitation workers roll through my neighborhood at an ungodly hour when most people are just getting up. Ok well I can't harp too much about the ungodly hour considering I've already finished a workout by 6:30.

I decide to go for it. I dash into the house and grab a pair of disposable plastic doggy poo gloves and a new white garbage bag. I'm 1/4 of the way through clearing up the bits of left over dinners that I denied my dog when I hear the rumble of the truck one street over. I quicken my pace which naturally makes me a little more sloppy; which could be to blame for the shameless begging that happened next.

The truck rumbles up the street as I'm still picking up bits of nastiness that had been fermenting in the hot afternoons for the past 5 days. The combination of sweat, garbage and my hurried frenzy must have been something to behold and smell - even for a garbage man. The guy hopped off the truck and picked up my neighbors garbage eyeing me with an amused smirk. He then proceeds to walk past my drive. I shout "Hey wait just a second!" He shakes his head and picks up the remnants of one bag with a questioning look. "Just give me two more seconds." I shout over the roar of the truck while picking up an oozing mess that could not have come from my house.

He continues on without a word. "Ok, Ok just take this bag!" I shout realizing I'd have to pick the rest up later and wait until next week. He takes the bag from me without a word and continues on down the street.

I was fuming! It is now close to 7:00 and I have to be at work by 7:30 (I teach school kids so it isn't as if being a little late won't hurt anything; my classroom would be a mess and in total chaos!). I leave the rest of the mess and storm into the house to shower and get ready for work. When I get home I'm still mad about the mess and about the french knot I had to wear in my hair because there was no time to fix it and be on time to work.

The breeze was nice and it was a beautiful fall afternoon so I opened the glass window on my front storm door. It had a screen at one time but Daisy my happy yellow lab had long ago jumped through it in pursuit of a cat. Now the glass was open just enough for her to stick her head out and let in a breeze. From her vantage point Daisy alternately watched me clean up the rest of the trash and a pretty black and white cat sitting on the curb across the street. The pretty cat seemed to be watching me as well.

After dinner I settled down on the couch with Daisy snuggling next to me to watch my favorite Thursday night line up of TV shows. Just when I'd relaxed I hear a loud "bang" that sounded like a large bird hitting a glass window. Daisy was alert instantly searching for the source of the sound. We looked at each other hoping for some hint of what the sound was when we heard it again. Then I heard small "mew" and claws on hard plastic. Daisy knew an instant before I did that a cat was messing around with the front door.

Barking and growling Daisy jumps off the couch going around it toward the front door. I jumped over the back of the couch hoping to beat Daisy to the door and save this unfortunate cat's life. I didn't quite make it but the cat heard the commotion and was on its way out the open window before Daisy caught it. I sighed in relief as I saw a flash of black and white tear out across the lawn, glad the cat wasn't hurt. I'd soon change my mind about that cat.

The following Thursday morning was like a bad re-run. The garbage all over the driveway, the silent amusement of the sanitation worker and my anger building and the stupid french knot. Only difference was that this time the pretty black and white cat sat cleaning itself across the street as I picked up the garbage. I began to have my suspicions.

Several days later I arrived home from work on a rainy day to discover Daisy barking in the dinning room as she stared onto the back closed-in porch. I look out the dinning room window expecting to find a bird that got stuck in the room (its happened before). Instead I see the flash of a white hind paw and black tail exiting through the crack in the door that wouldn't quite close all the way. I wondered how long the cat had been there tormenting my dog, suddenly not liking this cat very much.

Another garbage day came around and I decided to experiment. Instead of going to work out I simply placed the garbage bags out at the road at the usual time and returned to the house. From the dark living room window I sat and watched the garbage bags bathed in the glow of the street light. Within 10 minutes I was rewarded as that stupid black and white cat began to slink its way over to my bright white bags. It looked around as if expecting some surprise then took the bait.

I came running out of the house with a broom swatting at the cat; which of course I never came close to hitting. The cat disappeared down the sewer drain and I went back into the house to wait. After 20 more minutes I decided it was time to shower and get dressed.

Yes, you know that the bags were ripped to shreds by the time I was finished with my shower. The following week I put red pepper and Tabasco all over the bag. Of course that bag wasn't touched but my neighbor's can next door had been tipped and desecrated.

It is now my mission to find this cat and drop it off at the humane society. I've seen it a few times since but it won't come to me when I call it. Oh well... I can wait and I have a long memory. Victory will be mine!

First Football Game

You may be amazed but yes, it was my first football game ever. Virgina Tech played the Nebraska Cornhuskers in Lincoln. Living in Nebraska it is inevitable that you will be accosted by die-hard husker fans that insist Memorial Stadium in Lincoln is the best venue ever dreamt by man for football. We contemplated for years about braving the crowds, traffic and crazies to attend a game but the tickets were always so expensive and we are not football fans in general so the years went by and we'd never made an effort to get tickets and go. We heard that Virginia Tech was going to play the Huskers for the first time ever and it was going to be here in Lincoln. Since my husband graduated from VT we made an effort to get tickets; a wonderful couple in our church has family in Virgina and got a whole host of tickets so we sat with the visitors and wore our VT gear from years past. It was fun to dig out the old sweatshirts and parade around with the crazies who came to Nebraska from Virgina. I guess I'll never understand as I am not a sports fan of any kind. (Who has hours upon hours to sit and watch games on TV, and the brain power to keep it all straight?)

I must admit - they were right. I was astounded by the shear number of husker fans that came to the game all wearing red. Even those who didn't have tickets sat out on the practice field and watched a giant screen showing the game. It was almost like a carnival there were tents with red stuff to buy and vendors of every flavor to satisfy any craving. High school kids gave out red helium balloons for free to be released when the Huskers scored their first touchdown. Wearing VT stuff and sitting in their section I had no choice but to hope that the balloons would be carried home that night by the masses in red. I was not disappointed however when the Huskers scored and the thousands of red balloons filled the air.

All in all it was a great experience. The crowds were a bit much for me and the traffic getting home was something I'm trying to block out so I doubt I'll venture out to another Husker game but I'm glad I went.

And I'm glad Virgina Tech won. ;)

Eww! Underwear!

I have the incredible blessing of being a middle school teacher. Even more than that I have the pleasure and privileged to teach at a private school with administration and parents that are supportive and encouraging. Perhaps the amazing nature of the parents has resulted in the amazing and unusual character of my students.

Every year our school takes the 6th grade students to an overnight camp for three days. This year I was in charge of running the low challenge course. It is the fun rope swing and "spider web" out the woods that a facilitator (me) sets up silly and challenging goals for the team of students to complete and then pulls it all together in the end to talk about team work and any other lessons that the kids bring with them.

Out on that challenge course I saw courage far beyond their years, I saw students reaching out to a new student in their group. I saw them trusting each other in ways that they had not before... but all of that is typical for a challenge course. What was not so typical is how different the mindset these kids had over other students I've taught it suburban public schools. A perfect illustration of this is when during a challenge one young man laid out on the ground with his hand over his head. As a result his shirt revealed that just above the waist of his jeans, the elastic band from his boxers and a bit of material were showing. Having taught in the public school in the past I am desensitized to boys underwear hanging out the top of their jeans but a young lady in group has a look of disgust on her face and announces in a loud, offended and grossed out voice that only middle school girls can produce, "EWW, pull up you pants! No one wants to see your underwear! That's just gross!"

The young man's response was equally amazing. He looked embarrassed and blushed a little as he quickly pulled down his shirt and pulled up his pants.

So for all you out there who are beginning to despair at all the underwear out there, take heart there are those who will stand up and say "EWW, No one wants to see your underwear!"

Sleep Deprivation and Tire Slashing

This is an older but great story from my early married life living in apartments. It's long but good. :)

Imagine a late November day in Georgia. The air is crisp and cold but my lined blue-jean jacket is enough to keep out the chill. It had been one of the tiring days at work. If you've never been a receptionist for a 30+ phone line financial company I'm sure can at least imagine how excitable people can be about their money. Not only was I answering phones from disgruntled customers but I was also the secretary to the president of our branch. There must be some job requirement for presidents that they be more than just "quirky" they have to be nearly impossible to work with. I'd spent my day calming and re-directing fuming clients and attempting to take and translate the dictation of a raging boss. My mind was exhausted and thanks to an hour on the treadmill and 45 minutes of Pilate's after work my body was exhausted too.

I come home to an empty apartment (Jonathan is at Officer Training School in Alabama) and microwave something that passes for dinner. After flipping through our 10 channels of basic cable and concluding that there is nothing to watch, Harry Potter calls from his book by my bed. I turn in for the night, mentally preparing myself to do it all again tomorrow.

My blissful dreams of wizards and the carefree life of a student were shattered as I was wrenched awake by the most annoying sound known to humankind. A car alarm. Not just any car alarm, but the kind that hope five variations of screaming loudness will deter theft and are sure to arouse the attention of everyone within a two mile radius. I groaned in frustration and looked at the clock - midnight. Well, at least it is enough time to fall back asleep. Which I promptly did. Five minutes later the obnoxious racket began all over again. Still believing that people are generally good and kind, I figured the owner would come out and fix the problem. I lay in bed still sleepy and tired waiting for the noise to stop and sleep to come once again. Just as I felt the peaceful black fuzziness surround my mind promising rest and rejuvenation - IT WENT OFF AGAIN!

Now I was angry. I climbed out of bed and looked out my bedroom window into the parking lot below. There it was, an old beat up dark blue Chevy blazer from the late 80's with the emergency lights flashing to the ear-splitting pulse of the alarm. Like any good suburban bred member of society I called the apartment management office and logged a complaint. I felt a little better after spewing my frustration off on some poor clerk who would check the message in the morning. For a moment I was sure I'd trade places with them... I'd work here and live somewhere else. My musings were interrupted by the softest little "beep, beep, beep" which was a herald for the whole mind numbing concert to begin again. I sighed and picked up Harry Potter and laid back down to read even if sleep was lost for the night.

At 3:00 a.m. the source of my insomnia finally fell silent for good but all too soon I was awoken by another alarm demanding that I begin my day. Although I'd slept a good two and half hours before the drama began I still felt robbed of the best hours of sleep. The day went by in a blur but I was thankful tomorrow was Friday and I slipped off to sleep early that night still holding Harry Potter with the lights on.

Of course the story would be too boring to end there. Around midnight I was once again pulled from my sweet, blessed sleep to the torturous sound of a high-pitched cacophonous concert of one. The encore from last night was a little too much for me to take in my sleep-deprived state. No phone calls tonight; it was time for more drastic measures. I got out of bed and found the most nondescript piece of paper I could find and scratched out a note.

"Please have your alarm fixed or at the very least disable it at night. This is the second night in a row that it has kept me up. I am human so I do need my sleep please fix this as soon as possible."

I crept down the stairs from my 4th floor apartment, checking corners to be sure no one was watching. I wanted to leave the note but I didn't want a real confrontation, therefore I did not want to be recognized. I successfully slipped the note under the wiper on the passenger side of the car... sure I should probably put it under the driver side but that was farther away and now that I was all exposed out in the parking lot all I wanted to do was run back to the anonymity of my unit.

I got back into bed and read Harry Potter as the car offered up it's harsh lament to the moon over and over and over again. When it was finally time to get out of bed I was so tired and groggy that it was difficult to stay awake in the shower. Now clean, I was standing in my room getting dressed for the day when I heard a string of curses and general abuses being yelled from the parking lot below. I stuck my head out through the curtain suddenly remembering my note.

There was a large man, probably in his late twenties, standing on the side walk in front of the blue blazer. His fists were raised above his head and he was yelling obscenities again; every other one punctuated by the "F" word. To my horror I noticed he clutched a piece of paper that he seemed to be waving in impotence at the building. Surely my nice note could have no such effect! Was this person truly unstable? What had I done? I was praying that no one saw me go out there last night when I noticed my note was still untouched on the passenger side of the windshield still snugly tucked under the wiper.

A wave a relief washed through me. Someone else had written a note too and put it on the car. As the revelation came I watched the man stalk to the passenger side and rip my note out from under the wiper and throw it on the ground without so much as looking at it. I wondered on my way to work what the other note said. It was obviously not as nice as mine had been. I could only hope that it would get results as my note went unread. I did fall asleep in the break room during lunch that day. I was operating on 5 hours of sleep in a 48 hour time frame. My college room-mate can testify that I get nasty, moody and mean without sleep, but that is another story.

I skipped the gym on the way home and contemplated going to sleep at my mom's house for the night but there was hope that the nasty note left by another sleep deprived resident would have the desired effect and I'd be able to sleep all night in my own bed.

Apparently the note made no impact other than to piss-off the owner of the blazer. Once again I was ripped from my sleep at midnight to the terrible beeping and wailing of the car alarm. In sleep deprived hysteria I laughed and laughed; I couldn't stop myself. I have had a small taste of what sleep deprivation torture can do to a man and it isn't pretty but I'd imagine it is high effective. I was no longer the mild-mannered, sweet, southern Georgia girl but a stark raving mad beast bent on destruction. Before I knew what I was doing I was out of my bed searching the apartment for something, anything that would be suitable for smashing windows. I had a plan, rather ill formed but a plan. SMASH IT!!! That was the grand plan; the one clear thought in my brain that was consuming all other thoughts except the frantic search for a weapon and I lamented that neither Jonathan nor I played baseball.

Suddenly alternating blue and white lights flashed through my windows. The police! I hadn't even left my apartment yet but my muddled mind knew they'd come to arrest me for property damage. The flashing continued and my mind slowly comprehended what was going on and I felt intense relief at the prospect of being able to sleep. I dropped the metal cooking spatula I was carrying and rushed to the window. The cop was taking down information from the blue blazer, all the while the alarm screamed in protest. I watched in amazement as the cop simply took down some information, left a ticket then got into his cruiser and left! What? No dragging the offending party into the street? No handcuffs? The alarm was still blaring and my rage doubled.

The daylight brought more sense although I was tired. There was naive hope once again that the ticket left by the cop would inspire the man to quite the alarm. It was a rainy Saturday so I slept most of the afternoon. That night I woke to the quite "beep, beep, beep" that warned of what was to come. The insanity was instantly upon me. I began to pace my apartment. I called and left a very nasty, this time anonymous, message at the management office but it didn't give release to the all-consuming rage building in me. I paced, tossed and turned in bed and screamed my own protest as the night wore on and the alarm repeated its cry every five minutes.

Amid my delirium a new sound reached my ears from the parking lot below around 3:30 am - a soft and pleasing "whoosh". I stopped pacing and ran to the window. A man was walking across the parking lot to the building across from mine, away from the flashing lights of the offending car. My muddled and mad mind finally grasped what had taken place just as the mysterious man disappeared into his building. He slashed the tires! Oh what justice! What relief! I prayed blessings upon the vigilante who took matters into his own hands. Perhaps he was the one who left that nasty note too. Oh that I could be so brave and daring in the face of such torment!

Several hours later I watched with glee as the owner of the blazer discovered the rewards of his inhumane treatment of myself and others. He swore and yelled more obscenities into the morning and it felt like sweet music in my ears. My euphoria was in part due to the lack of sleep over the past three nights but what a beautiful morning it turned out be - I never heard that car alarm again.

I will admit that it has scared me for life. To this day (some six years later) when ever I hear that particular car alarm my mind has to fight off the madness that gripped me those sleepless nights and I cringe as I fight down the rage that builds up in my mind.

May you rest in peace tonight.

How do I make a baby?

With my husband in the military, I'm staunchly opposed to government health care based on the level of service and care I receive from my doctors on base. Here a funny but true story.

My husband and I are planning to start a family and my OBGYN suggested I have several tests done before we even attempt to conceive. Because I needed my insurance to pay for the tests, I had to get my primary care physician on base to order the tests. I tried to be hopeful, but thoughts of "here we go again" kept rolling through my head. At least this time I knew what I needed and hoped I could bully the doctor into the tests if he was not so inclined.

I made the appointment and once in the office and explained the reason for my visit.... that my OBGYN wanted some tests done and I wanted them done for free on base. The doctor (a different one) was a young guy, probably late 20's early 30's with no wedding ring. To my delight he agreed to order the tests for me. I was having such good luck I decided to press it a little bit. Because I've never had a child before I didn't know if I had to use base doctors or if I could get referred to use my private OBGYN (which I really want to do). So I asked the doctor... "If all the tests come back great, what do I do from here. Which office on base do I contact?"
He responded with a sheepish grin and a slight blush, "well, there are all kinds of websites and information on line on how to best conceive a child." Wow.... I quickly interrupted him, "I'm quite clear on "how" to conceive a child. Let me rephrase my question. Once I am pregnant which office on base to I contact next? I realize that you don't do pregnancy care here do you?"
He cleared his throat and turned a deeper red, "No we don't do that here. I don't know what office you would contact after you are pregnant. I'll get one of the nurses to help you."

Crazy! I sincerely hope that once I am pregnant I am able to get referred off-base.. the prospect of having a baby in the hands of these government doctors is scary. Wish me luck!

Batman Relocated

Around 8:00 last night Jonathan and I were playing X-Box when Daisy starting acting like my workout mat had grown wings. My workout mat stays wedged between the wall and the TV so even though we were thoroughly engrossed in the video game we couldn't help but notice. She was smelling quickly then jumping away only creep closer and hesitantly sniff again. This process repeated about two times when I sang out, "Daisy found the bat!!!"

And while the excitement was kept to a minimum our gallant Daisy found our Bat. It was snuggled neatly in the mesh pocket, which made carrying the whole ensemble outside quite easy. Once outside I ran in to get my camera while Jonathan held the dog close enough to let her get a good smell of the tiny thing. There is a picture on the left.... kind of cute and furry.... outside.

Funny how little mammals can almost always appear cute in the right circumstances. The whole ordeal has prompted me to consider getting a bat box for our back yard. After all they can eat up to 10,000 misquotes in a single night... who wouldn't want that! The bat box might also be more appealing than attempting to live in our house.

Click the word "Bat" next to Labels to read original post.

Men in Uniform

I met Jonathan for lunch at a cute and very good French restaurant today. We decided to have lunch because, like everyone else we are watching what we spend and since this is a pricey place we opted for the cheaper lunch menu.

The moment we walked in several ladies in their late 50s were eyeing me. I'm not so gorgeous or so ugly that people stare so I was a little uncomfortable under their gaze. There looks were just looks, no condemnation - no praise. What could they be thinking? Not that I really mind or care... just curious.

Then the host offered us a table right by the door. If you've been out with Jonathan and I a few times you'll realize we've no problem refusing a table in a "high traffic" area. We feel if we're going to spend our money we're not going to enjoy it in peace. Not surprisingly when the host offered another table in a more secluded spot we said we'd wait while he cleaned, cleared and set the table. Waiting... I tried to stand up straight, smile at Jonathan... so handsome with his fresh haircut and in uniform. They were still watching just not as openly now.

Finally I was in the safety of my seat and could devote my attention away from the two women. Food... ahh how we love good food. Jonathan had some wonderful-smelling lamb on faccaccia bread and I had my dinner out usual - mixed greens salad with steak and goat cheese. The lunch began uneventful in that we talked about what we always do... the house and it's state of disrepair.

The owner of the restaurant (also our host that cleaned and set our table) was having a gathering in the restaurant at the same time and our server informed us that the owner's mother was the chef of the day for the little party. We watched curiously as the appetizers came out and that curiosity got the best of us. We asked our server what was on the appetizer plate; she didn't know. A few minutes later she returned with a small appetizer plate for us and said, "There were extras in the kitchen; not everyone showed up so you are welcome to have this." She didn't offer an explination of what it was but it was obvious close up that there were two muscles, some pate and another baked unidentifiable treat. Have I mentioned that we love excellent food.... we would eat ourselves to death if the prospect wasn't so unattractive.

To end the meal we shared a little cup of chocolate moose. Our server cleared away the empty cup; my eyes watching its voyage away from the table (ahh I love food!) The server returned promptly and told us that someone had taken care of our check and wished to remain anonymous. As she was speaking I was immediately looking for some joke or sarcasm or something to indicate that I had not heard her correctly. Still shaking visions of chocolate moose from my mind, dumbly I said, "So we can just leave?" She smiled and nodded then left.

Jonathan and I looked at each other not knowing what to think. I was still attempting to work out the puzzle and he finally spoke, "I guess I should leave a tip." To which I quickly answered, "Absolutely." We left the tip and started toward the door. I was still waiting for someone or something to jump out and embarrass us. As we closed the door behind us Jonathan put his blue uniform hat on and it dawned on me that someone had bought our lunch as a show of support for the military and his service! Jonathan was speechless and then giddy. His faith in mankind renewed after so many years with so little show of support.

Was it the owner? Was it the ladies who may have been looking at Jonathan standing right behind me? Will it be me or you next time? Only God knows. I pray that God will bless the giver and continue to humble our hearts.

So thank you with all my heart to all of you out there who are brave enough to put your money where your heart is!

Bats and Vampires in the Night

It just so happens I was up late reading the latest teenie bopper vampire novel and eventually attempted to sleep, my head whirling with questions about the stupid heroine and vampire hero. All the while my faithful yellow lab and husband lay snoring through all the excitement in my head. Finally blessed with sleep and sweet dreams of immortality and running without growing tired (yeah... if you ever pounded away on a treadmill you understand.) The happy sound of my lab running playfully around the bedroom woke me from my dreams. My husband snored on as I strained to listen in the darkness; Daisy was chasing something......

Then I heard a faint whoosh whoosh of wings and felt something plop softly on my down comforter. Not moving I said nervously to my husband, "There is something in here." He woke up at once, listening to the dog prance happily around the room. Before my husband could reply I felt his question and responded, "It's an animal." Then I kicked the comforter right as my husband clicked on the light to reveal a large black object soring effortlessly around the room. Jonathan was standing beside the bed as I pulled the blankets up to my chin. "Its a bat!" he finally breathed as we both watched it disappear into the hallway through the open door.

Instinct took over and I went to the bedroom door and closed it. This seemed a logical way to have uninterrupted planning time for how to combat this new foe. My husband viewed it as peace and quite and climbed back into bed, turning off the light. Even my excitable Daisy laid back down and went to sleep. Deciding I did not want or know how to fight the terrible thing alone so I climbed back into bed and attempted to go back to sleep.

I think it goes without saying that I didn't sleep AT ALL. This terrible, perhaps rabies ridden rat with wings was now soaring around my house. I tried to calm myself with stupid thoughts that made the bat out to be smarter that it is... "maybe it will get back outside on its own." The night continued on and my bladder began to grow heavy with the morning ritual calling but I didn't want to leave our bat-free sanctuary until the first rays of dawn came through the window (because they are afraid of the light right?) When dawn saved me, I crept carefully into the hall and made my way to the bathroom. No sign of the bat anywhere. At first I was relieved, then I started wondering where it went. While getting ready for work Jonathan remarked, "Maybe it was a mistake to not get it outside last night. No telling where it is now." I sighed; I'll have bat and vampire nightmares now I'm sure.

It is now 10:00 am and I still have no idea where the bat is.... maybe in one of the many open holes in our house. (Our house is being remodeled and there are lots of holes in dry wall for light fixtures, vents and the like.)

I'll let you know if we ever find it.