Blake is old.

Just kidding.  He's not old.  He did, however, turn 25 this week.

People, the only way I could have made that cake more chocolatey would have been to cram Hershey bars in the top.  I used dark cocoa powder for the frosting.  Heaven!  Why haven't I made friends with dark cocoa before?  Seriously, changed my life.

I put a lot of thought and care into Blake's birthday present.  So much so that he came up with the idea and researched it himself.

Usually when I ask what he wants he shrugs.  If he wants it, he'll get it.

Not so this time.  Ever since he got his bike, he's been reluctant to shell out the dough for a bike stand.  It's well over a hundred bucks so I understand the hesitation.  Anyway, his birthday was a good excuse.

I had no idea Blake could do research.  Usually, I'm the one scouring review sites and Amazon.com for hours before we make a purchase, but when it comes to the bike, all bets are off.  He's a man obsessed.

Luckily, the one he wanted was in stock (and amazingly on sale), at a hardware store not far from where we live.

Happy Birthday Blake, may you easily lube your chain from now on.

Biketoberfest

Mostly, Blake and I like the old ones

Anyone who knows me does not automatically equate Jeeana with Biker Chick.

I don't wear a lot of leather, no tattoos (not even a heart with MOM), and people are not, generally speaking, afraid of me on sight.  Go figure.

Nevertheless, last Friday Blake and I went to Biketoberfest in Daytona Beach.

I "hem" and "haw" over many decisions.  This was absolutely no exception.

Four hours round-trip sitting on a hard lump, legs and feet locked into one position, back aching from the awkward riding position.  Blake's Thruxton is notoriously passenger-unfriendly, but when was I going to get another chance to see something as interesting as this?  Plus, childish as it was, Blake was going, so I wanted to go.

We rode down in a group, command ride, mostly with people we don't know, but one guy Blake sort of knows who is a class(?) behind him.  This guy's got his 8th kid on the way. I'll give you a minute to process that................. ................. ....................... done?

.:. side story.:.
My mother-in-law, Dana, is not impressed because she is part of a gigantic family herself. Seriously.  She's one of nine kids.  Wait, is it ten?  It's a lot.  The first time I met her side of the family, it was for a holiday party.  A few days before I went to the doctor's office and found out I had some kind of protein buildup on my eyeball from sand or something in my contact.
Doctor:  You have to put drops in your eye twice a day.
Me: Okay.
Doctor: You have to wear an eyepatch.
Me: ........  I'm meeting my broyfriend's entire family in three days.
Doctor:  Oh.
Me: Yeah.
Doctor:  You don't have to wear it.
So that's the story of how I almost had a lifetime of three hundred people calling me "matey" and asking me where my parrot was.  Crisis averted.
Okay, moving on.
.:.

Bikes!

Love the old school lettering

Prices in at over $37,000 dollars.  Whoa.

This raced at Bonneville.  Awesome!

Japanese.  Notice the intake is a pagoda.

Corrupted Triumph.  One of the few non-Harleys on the beach.

The command ride was really cool.  I'd never ridden in a group before.  There were six or seven bikes, all different types, so not only did we look cool, but we were safe.

We split up at the beach because Blake and I wanted to go to the triumph dealership right away and no one else really did (Harleys and crotch rockets).

The dealership also sold BMWs and Ducatis, but the Triumphs were where it was at for us!  They had a whole demo area set up with all the different Triumph models.  Including Blake's first bike, which he had for like, two weeks because it caused issues, and looked like death on two wheels... the Street Triple.  Bright, neon green, just like Blake's was.  Even Blake admits it wasn't the right bike for him.  Too sporty, too much power, too much temptation to do unnecessary speeds.

After we exhausted every inch of that dealership, we did a lot of walking.

Bike stores everywhere.  Custom shops, Harley, Indian, and a great little Mexican place where we got an awesome lunch for like, ten bucks total. 

Then we went over to the beach side.  More walking.  They'd actually shut down streets on Daytona Beach.  Bikes were parked in long, shiny rows up and down every street.  There were a lot of stock-looking Harleys, but Blake and I wandered up and down every street because once in awhile, you'd find something really interesting just sitting around.

Also, there were a lot of trikes.  Here's an example: Lehman Trikes. Basically, a cruiser bike with three wheels.  Some are built up like cars and have actual car engines in them (sometimes hybrid) and have actual doors and trunks.

Okay, not that we've got the Bike part of Biketoberfest explored.  Can we discuss the People of Biketoberfest?

I didn't expect to go there, stand in the middle of the street, take a deep breath and decide "these.... these are my people."  I expected to be surprised.  I was.

Let's talk about the very mature woman, skinny as a twig, wearing a black bodysuit that had slits cut up an down the entire side, the entire front and the entire back.  While this woman obviously had serious balls, she did not have underwear... or actual balls for that matter because she would have been arrested for flashing hundreds of people.  Maybe she should have saved that little number for later.  It looked like that crowd was going to get rowdy later on.

I was exhausted by 3 o'clock.  All the walking.  All the heat.  The exhaust fumes.  We made one last trek up and down the main street so Blake and I could get winged triumph patches sewn on our jackets (right where Blake's aviator wings go).  Then, we set out on the ride back.

My butt was killing me the whole day.  It was better we didn't have to sit down because I would've needed one of those doughnuts they give people with hemorrhoids. 

About a half hour into the trip, my eyelids got heavy.  I tried to focus on anything and everything, but it was tough.  The next thing I knew, Blake's elbow nudged my arm and he said, "are you asleep back there?"

I was.

I was asleep on the back of a motorcycle.  It's a good thing Blake's not a show-off or he would have accelerated me right off the back.

We pulled into a gas station and after Blake was done laughing at me, we had a snack and I felt much better.

We were ready to pull out and Blake noticed gas GUSHING out of car whose gas pump nozzle had been left unattended.  Seriously people, those signs don't lie.  Watch out.  That woman had at least twenty bucks of gas all over her car and draining into the gutter.  She ran out of the gas station and Blake was going to put it back in the holder, but the lady thanked him and said she could do it.  Blake was wearing heavy steel-toed boots.  That woman was wearing those sandals that make you feel like you're bare-footed. Hope she likes the smell of gasoline.    I do.

I'm happy to report I stayed awake the whole ride home and we arrived safe and sound back home just before dark, tired, but happy.  My butt, back and legs hurt for two days.  Yes, I complained about it, but I did it with a smile.

This one I will write in

Took a long hiatus from the blog, message boards, all kinds of things.  It's been like a vacation.  I'm back.  I promise.  I have no abandoned my blog, though I have done so before.

This one, I will write in.

The Big Day: WINGING

Winging kicked my butt.

Late nights, early mornings, but so much fun!

Uncle Dan arrived in Pensacola on Wednesday evening. We took him down to Pensacola and ate awesome seafood. Uncle Dan converted us to raw oyster lovers. They were so good! I think whenever Blake and I had tried them, they were just bad oysters. These ones, though, were AWESOME. Great meal and great stories from Uncle Dan.

The next day we got up early and headed off for the Naval Aviation Museum. Uncle Dan is a retired aviation maintenance duty officer who now works for Pratt & Whitney. So, as you can imagine, it was mind blowing to go through the museum. Between Blake and Uncle Dan, it was like going through the museum for the first time ever and I learned so many interesting things. Plus, I love that museum. They always have new exhibits, the staff is so friendly and nice, and the Cubi Bar makes good food.

We didn't stay the whole day (though we could have) because we had to get back for the soft patch ceremony. Blake went ahead of us to base because he had some paperwork to finish up. And here's where the messy confusion starts. Blake got orders to report to Mayport on July 26th, as in a week and three days from when he got his orders. Meaning we would have to find a place to live, set up the move, get all our stuff in order in basically five days because of weekends. It was an almost impossible task. So that kind of put a downer on the day. Anyway, on to the soft patch we went.

Lots of funny stories (and frankly, some not funny ones), but it was fun and I finally got to see some of the instructors I'd heard so much about.



After the soft patch we went to Texas Roadhouse because it's awesome to eat there.

The next day was busy. SO busy, it went by in a blur. Most people got to have a leisurely breakfast and maybe the church service. Not us. We had things to do, paperwork to fill out, and things to be stressed over.

First, though, the most fun thing ever in my life. The Sim. Blake has spent many hours in the helo sims (in fact, he's in one as I'm typing this, observing for someone). I've asked many questions about the hydraulics and how realistic it is. Well, I finally got to sit in one. Let me tell you... it is REAL. I sat in the student seat and Blake sat in the instructor seat and it was just like looking out at Whiting. It was weird. The guy running the sim had turned off the hydraulics, which I must say, was not a nice thing to do because I was flying around and my body wasn't moving, but my eyes were saying I was and I got a little nauseous. I didn't feel bad, though, because Blake said he was too.

I took off, flew around Whiting. I tried to hover, which, needless to say did not go well. I didn't crash! And it was super super fun. I could have sat in that thing for hours. Best. Video. Game. Ever.

Then, it was Uncle Dan's turn. The guy running the sim put them on a carrier. Man, was I glad I had the nice solid ground for mine. All that blue water and blue sky was seriously disorienting.

I sat behind them, near the control panel and the guy running it saw my curious looks at the panels and started showing me everything he could do. It was amazing! He was like, "look I can put them in a snowstorm!" And he pressed a button and all of a sudden, there it was, a huge snowstorm and they couldn't see anything. haha. He put it back to moderate snow so they could actually see where they were landing. They did go belly-up once in the ocean and got the red screen of death. They got reset and Uncle Dan successfully landed on the carrier. Yay!

The fun part over, we headed to the moving office to see if it was possible to move our stuff on such short notice. It was. So we did all that paperwork, went home, had lunch, changed into respectable clothes for the winging!

It went by so fast. It was a huge winging class, but it was all a blur. When I pinned Blake's wings on (ever-so crooked), it was the proudest moment ever. Also, the Rear Admiral who was the guest speaker, was SO unbelievably nice.



We did the picture thing and headed to the after party. Speeches, toasts and chick-fil-a ensued. Everyone jokes about how newly winged aviators spend all their time in front of mirrors and can't stop looking at their wings. Well, I was the one who couldn't stop looking. It was unbelievable that the day was finally here. Plus, they're very shiny and I'm like a magpie.

For dinner we went to Frank and Lola Love Pensacola in the new Margaritaville Hotel. The food was really, really good, but it was so loud in the place that I would never consider going back. By the end of the meal, I was a little hoarse from trying to talk/having to ask Blake and Uncle Dan to repeat what they'd said.

It was a beautiful view, though, and a nice place.

The winging party was right next door at the Land Shark Bar. That place rocks. The bar itself is normal, but they have a huge open space behind it with Adirondack chairs and hammocks and palm trees and fire pits. They have a volleyball net and ping pong. It's just a really relaxing place. We stayed there until about 2. Then, I drove Blake, Evan and Uncle Dan home. Everyone (except me, the DD) took advantage of the open bar.

As an aside, Blake met the other two guys and their wives, who are also going to Mayport. They said their orders had gotten changed to a later report date and Blake's was too, but no one could find him during the winging to tell him because everything was so busy.

We got back, Uncle Dan went to bed, and we headed over to a friend's house where there was supposed to be another party, but instead, we sat outside of his house for 45 minutes because he'd locked his house key inside the house. Good times.

We all slept in Saturday. Uncle Dan's plane didn't leave until later so we headed downtown for lunch at McGuire's, which is always delicious. I'm seriously going to miss that place. Just like I miss McGillicuddy's in Montpelier. I'm sensing a trend in my life.

We dropped Uncle Dan off at the airport, dropped Evan at his truck down at the beach and commenced to vegging out because Blake and I were completely worn out.

The story has a happy ending. Monday morning, bright and early, Blake went to base to see if his orders had changed and indeed (after phone calls and much confusion), they were. In fact, we were already on our way to Jacksonville to look for a place to live when we got the call that his report date had been changed to a more reasonable one.

We went anyway, though, and have found a very nice 3br house with a medium-sized commute. But that is another story...

Winging Banner!

I asked Blake what he wanted for a winging present. He said, "I got a motorcycle." I really couldn't argue with that, after all, it's very pretty and very shiny and very expensive. He already knew I was going to make him a winging banner so we called it a present.

Thanks to Whiting Field's SOSA instructions, I knew what materials, what quantities, and directions. For a novice like me, though, there was still anxiety.



The Cutting: this was the easiest, if most labor intensive part. I spent an entire Sunday cutting out Congratulations LTJG Blake Shaffer. I couldn't cut out the helo or duty station because we didn't know those. So, it was just me, a pair of brand new Fiskars scissors, yellow cloth and Bridezillas. Those women are batshit crazy, but hilarious. At the end of the day, my letters looked awesome, but I had to ice my hand to quell the swelling in my middle finger and the pain in my wrist. Yes, I should have done the letters in increments, but it was fun and Bridezillas was funny and I just couldn't stop.

The Borders: I had to cut my borders twice because the first ones, while cut to instructions, were a bit sparse looking on the large expanse of banner. So, I recut them a little bigger and with room to fold them over the back for a crisp edge.

I also cut the blue background of the banner a few inches longer on each side to make a flap for the 1" wooden dowel I used to hang it. The dowel in the bottom was more for stability than anything.



Then I used double stick tape to tape the letters onto the banner and see what they looked like. It was exciting. :)

Then.....



The Wings: The scariest part by far. When I went to Hobby Lobby, I was directed to two types of gold lame. The nicer looking one had an obvious tendency to fray. The other was more stable. I decided to be daring. It paid off. The key was in the SOSA instructions. Before cutting the wings, peel back the wonder under a bit first. But first, the drawing.

I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I am the world's worst drawer. You know those pictures you make in elementary school of slanty-sided box houses with lopsided windows and a huge, squiggly tree in the yard? I still draw like that.

Yes, this is tracing, but I only wanted to do it once. So, I taped up the wings pictures (which is a pixelized mess, but definitely works for the basic outline). Then, I added an extra step to the directons. Instead of using a Sharpie and immediately tracing the wings, I turned them around, and used a pencil to trace the wings onto the paper wonderunder backing. I filled in details too. It was definitely worth it because I needed the practice. Then, I turned it around and Sharpied away. For a non-artist, I think they came out pretty good.

The real anxiety came when it was time to iron on the letters. One wrong move and the whole thing was ruined. I ironed two or three letters at a time. I freaked out during the whole word "Congratulations."

Then, a week and a half later, Blake got orders. Final destination, Japan. Once again, the ironing freaked me out, but here it is, the final product:



The whole time I made this, I said to myself, "it doesn't have to be perfect." It was stressful, but fun and hopefully, he'll have it for a very long time to come.

Orders!

Woo Hoo!

The day has finally arrived. Orders! Not only do I get to finish the winging banner and post pictures, but we get to look for a place to live... temporarily.

Japan, here we come. I am so excited to live there and in my heart, Japan was my first choice (even if it wasn't first on Blake's dream sheet). The not so awesome news? Training for the SH-60 Bravo takes around a year... and it's in Florida. That's right, the state we were so eager to leave behind has claimed us once more. At least we get to move, though. We'll be stationed at Mayport in Jacksonville, FL. The hunt is on for a place to live. We didn't have a chance to contact the housing office today, but word is, there is a waiting list for housing. Bummer.

So we shall see.

In other news, we went back to the watch store at Tanger Outlets to return Blake's awesome watch. The salesman (who looked like a lost, shy member of the Jonas Brothers) mistakenly told us we could replace the icky plastic band on the awesome watch with a beautiful metal one. We got home (1.5 hours later) and found out they don't make either the watch or the band anymore. I know it's an outlet, but shouldn't the salespeople... I don't know... maybe have correct information?! Oh well. We got to go back and shop, which is never a bad thing. Except, the first half was better, infinitely better. You can't compare the outlets of Charlotte Russe, Banana Republic, Old Navy and Le Creuset to the second trip's Bose, Black and Decker, and some terrible, terrible, random book store.

Tomorrow, the Pensacola Beach air show. Sunday (please, God) we're going to veg out. Monday the work begins because a week from today...

WINGING!

Fireworks & Keys

Fourth of July. Last year, we went downtown and watched Pensacola's fireworks show. It was great. Very crowded, lots of lawn chairs and lots of people setting off their own fireworks. I remember thinking, "are those people crazy? They could shoot their eyes out, kid."

Flash forward a year.

DIY fireworks. Thank you, Sheldon fireworks of Alabama.

You know what's crazy? Growing up in a state (New York) where fireworks are so illegal that if you so much as touch one, they put you away for life. Then, moving to a state where they are not only legal, but you can buy them at Wal-Mart.

This is Sheldon Fireworks:



Let me clarify. This is half of Sheldon Fireworks. As soon as we walked in, all the guys' faces lit up like someone had just given them a big ice cream cone with sprinkles. At least, that's the only thing that would make me smile like that.

It was a little scary at first. I mean, come on. You're in a warehouse of high explosives with random people who, for all you know, could have quit school after the fourth grade. The No Smoking signs everywhere aren't put up just for the irony.

So we all stocked up and headed out to Orange Beach. Note: We couldn't bring them back to Florida because only Alabama allows the "good" fireworks. The ones that shoot into the air and explode in large, brightly colored bits. Because, those are dangerous and could kill people. More on that later.

The beach was windy. From the second we stepped out of the cars, it was like a high-priced exfoliation. Sand buffeting the legs, the face, the hands and worming its way into the very fabric of everything we wore.

We set up the grill and, eventually, got to grilling. That food was good. A little sandy, but some things can't be helped.

As the sun set, the clouds came in and it looked like rain. The guys were all like, "oh, the radar looks fine. The radar doesn't lie." and the girls were like, "thank you aviators, how do you explain the water droplets hitting my face?"

Fireworks commenced. It was crazy. The wind was out of control, as were the men lighting the fireworks. I had sparklers. Just call me Indiana Jones, lover of high-flying adventure.

One guy we were with is from Texas and has experience with the "good" fireworks. He knew what to buy for the biggest explosions. As the night wore on, the big ones came out. Fireworks, I mean.

It's a mortar. You know, like in warfare. Same concept. Almost same result... You get a tube that you dig into the sand so it's stable, you put in your mortar and BOOM. Except, you know what doesn't work so well? When your tube isn't stable. Because the force of the explosion is substantial and if you don't bury it, the force of the firework will cause the tube to fall sideways and fire laterally... into the people setting off their own fireworks a hundred feet away... into the two guys and their father who have their own stockpile of very flammable materials. We almost eradicated an entire family line.

It was a beautiful firework, but it lost its charm when its light only served to show the horror and fear on the other people's faces. Oh well. They understood. They'd been there before.

The other thing that doesn't work so well? Putting in the mortar upside down. Because then, and this is the exciting part, it doesn't launch at all. It explodes at ground-level, barely giving enough time for the men people who lit it to run away with a hearty "oh shit."

Amid all this excitement was another drama. Blake lost the car key. As much as we all searched for it, we all knew it was gone. So we hitched a ride home with someone and had to drive all the way back to Alabama the next day.

But.

It was a good thing, because we went to the outlet mall in Foley. So, I'm not complaining. I got a dress for the winging that I'm very happy with. :)

Also, Blake got an awesome watch, which we have to return this weekend. The thing about shopping at outlet malls is that a lot of the stuff is discontinued. So it was with said watch. They don't make it anymore. Therefore, they don't make the bands anymore so Blake has almost no hope of replacing the rubber one with a sturdy metal one. Why the company doesn't make bands a more standardized thing, I have no idea.

Again, I'm not upset because we only got through half the stores on Monday and when we go back Friday, we can visit the other half. So, things all work out in the end. Well, at least, for me they did.

p.s. When Blake paid for our drinks and fudge at the Fudgery... the lady told him to "have a fudgey day."

I'm back

Yo.

I took a break. But I'm finished.

Lots of things have happened since the last update.

Blake got a motorcycle. It's freakin' summer in Florida which means hot, muggy, gross, yuck.

And the project you'll be hearing a lot about probably... the winging banner. I'll probably get the materials sometime this week and start it because with all the moving and craziness, I don't want to wait until the last minute. I want to have time to start it all over if I screw it up.

This is the time I wish we lived by family because my mother-in-law and her family are excellent sewers and all-around crafty awesomeness. I, however, scrapbook. Which is a craft, but not exactly something you need a sewing machine for. I for one plan on using some kind of heat and bond thing because a month is not enough time to learn how to sew properly. I know the banners never come out perfect, but I don't want it to look too jacked up.

So I've printed my instructions, researched my coupons and it will be a great adventure.

Just another update

Another Friday. About time. I, for one, cannot wait for this day to be over and yet, it has hardly begun.

Last night I had dinner with a friend at O'Zone Pizza Pub in Pensacola. Very good. Kind of dark and posters of The Ramones and Pink Floyd. It was Ladies' Night last night (I've never liked that name. It says "ladies" but it really means "for men." Plus there's that really bad song about ladies' night). Anyway, my pizza cost less than my beer which was both wonderful and a travesty. It was 7" of crispy goodness with chicken, roasted garlic and artichokes.

I didn't get home until almost 10 and a few minutes later, Blake got home. It's been a long week for both of us. The good news is that I got to pull the car all the way into the garage for the first time ever.

Blake sold his 4-wheeler. It was bittersweet for him, I know. I, frankly, couldn't have cared less one way or the other. I hadn't been on it since college. Whatevs. He got very good money for it considering how old it was, but he took good care of it and replaced a lot of stuff when he got it. So it's gonesky. The money is deposited, awaiting the day when Blake will buy his motorcycle.

I am currently in the "I'm okay with it" phase of the motorcycle. In a few months I will be in the "do you have to get one?" phase. It's how it works.

He showed me the jacket he wants. It is cool in its retro-y way. He is completely in love with it. I think it looks like a tube sock. Google it yourself because I'm to lazy to do it for you. It's the Triumph Romero.

Free Starbucks Courtesy of Elias Clark (no free coffee actually involved)

No, I'm not giving away free coffee. I'm refering to The Devil Wears Prada (the book, not the movie), where Andrea Sachs buys coffee for the homeless on her daily trips to get coffee for her satanic, evil boss as a way to passive-aggressively stick it to the company.

What has this to do with my day? Unfortuantely, not fabulous free clothes or Starbucks. No, my friends, the common thread is the homeless.

The building I'm temping in has had a homeless problem for a month. It started a month ago with a man lurking around the parking lot and exposing himself to passersby. Since then, there have been multiple sightings in and around the building, on various floors. By the way, if I was going to take up residence in a business building that didn't want me, I'd wait until they kicked me out at least once before I started exposing myself. Anyway....

I come into work yesterday and read about it in the "while I'm gone" e-mail. It sounds kind of, well, creepy as hell. This is an office building, though, with lots of people in it.

Then, there is the second floor.

The second floor is where I must trek at least once, probably three, times a day. The mailboxes and FedEx drop box are located there. It is quiet. One of the fluorescent lights is busted. There is various mail trash on the floor. It's basically one Freddy Kruger away from being a horror movie. BUT, this is an office, and there are people around.

Today, the main receptionist called to check in. She hoped I wasn't too creeped out when I read her e-mail about it. I told her that yes, it was indeed kind of scary. Why sugarcoat? The tone of the e-mail was, "they haven't harmed anybody....... YET!"

She then proceeds to tell me not to worry, that the building engineer walks around and everyone's really good about reporting incidents.

Except for the second floor.

There are no tenents there.

Read: There is no one to hear you scream.

P.S., she never goes down there alone. She always asks a coworker to walk with her.







THANKS FOR TELLING ME IN YOUR E-MAIL!!!!!!!!!









that is all.

Hmmm

It would appear that I've stopped blogging. Well, my friends, appearances can be deceiving.... but in this case they're not. I've just plum forgotten to tell the world what I've been up to. So here it is:

........
.....
...
..
.

Damn, my life is exciting.

Blake's still working hard training. Still loving helicopters. Tonight he's got watch out at some random airfield. So it's just me, the cat and some kind of over-salted fast food. Yum.

It's Blake's fault. All my meals are planned for two. So if I cook the meal anyway that would mean I eat my portion and his turns into leftovers. Well, that's not practical because he can't exactly pack salmon, brussel sprouts and roasted potatoes for lunch the next day. The man wants a sandwich. And he can't eat it the next night because I'll cook a new meal because well, I'm hungry too. I'm really overthinking this thing.

Anywho, big news- we got a Wii. I mainly got it because I'm to lazy to drive 15 minutes to the base and hop on an elliptical. I, like many others, am loathe to exercise in public. So we got a Wii Fit Plus. It's super, super fun. Like, play it for two hours, sweating, exhausted, but still want to play. I hope it's doing something about those extra five pounds that somehow found their way to my mid-section around the holidays.

So what else? Well, it's almost quitting time. I'm temping this week (last Monday and today). The hours are 8-4. It's awesome getting out at 4 and not 5. An hour isn't that much time really, but it feels so good to get out at 4. Plus the traffic isn't as heavy.

So that's what's up.

Oh, and let's not talk about the friggin' Hoyas and the friggin' Big East quarterfinals okay? OKAY? OKAY?

Photo by Tim Shaffer

My father-in-law sent this picture he took of Blake and me on the beach. It makes me smile.

quick plug: see more of their work at their website and blog.

So I mentioned before I forgot to take pictures while they were here. Luckily, my mother in law, Dana, reads this (get back to work! haha, just kidding). So Tim sent a few; this one, one of Blake by the TH-57, one of Blake, Dana and I by the helicopter when Blake's explaining mind-numbingly complicated things.

It's been busy since they left. Blake's been out every day flying. He gets up before the sun and gets home by dinner. I don't know how he gets up so early. I have a hard time recognizing him when he comes to kiss me goodbye every morning. My eyes half open and I wonder where I am and what's going on. I listen for the front door to lock and go back to sleep. I wake up a few hours later wondering if I dreampt the whole thing.

This week and next week will be busy. I'm working full time, but it's okay because Blake wouldn't be home anyway. And at the end of the two weeks, the house will be a mess, the cat will have clinical depression from so much loneliness and everything will be okay because it will be Valentine's Day. And everyone knows that eating a box of chocolates makes everything better.

Avisiting

My in-laws are have been in town since Thursday. It's so nice when family is here. Makes the whole state seem friendlier. We didn't expect to see his parents down here until winging later this year. Blake's sister visited in '08 (holy crap has it really been that long?) and his cousin early last year.

One of the nice things about all the places we'll move is that our family can come. It's like visiting and vacation all in one. Not that there's a lot to see in Milton... but Pensacola is a little more lively.

My family isn't much on traveling. The farthest my aunts/uncles/cousins have gone is probably Orlando, FL and only a few have gone that far. My parents did their traveling in their younger days and are now content to stay home and play with the dogs. They didn't even visit us when we lived in Vermont, and they live in New York. Though in their defense, we weren't equipped for visitors. We lived in a crummy apartment and only had a bed. Even our only roommate had to sleep on his couch.

Our house now, is more conducive to visitors. Extra bedrooms, extra bathroom, big kitchen. It's a huge difference, having four people living here as opposed to two. Lots more house-noises, you know? Doors and running water and talking. The cat is happier two. Twice as many fingers to pet her fuzziness.

I'm now realizing, however, that I have taken zero pictures of the visit. I guess I just forgot. Maybe I can beg a few off my in-laws for the ole scrapbook. I frequently forget to take pictures of things. Oh well.

Now I'm off to make dinner. Chicken stir-fry. I gotta tell you, it's kind of nerve-wracking, cooking for your in-laws. Especially when your in-laws make good food. And my in-laws are nice. They're not even critical, mean-spirited people. Can you imagine if they were? I'd probably have an anxiety attack.

Okay, that's all.

Aha! Christmas

Our first Christmas morning solo, but together.

You can't tell, but Lilly has the much-loathed Santa hat on in that picture. This was taken right after we got up, presents still carefully wrapped under the tree. We dug in after the picture.

Here's a slightly better one of me and Blake. We weren't going to get dressed up for Christmas, but Blake bought me a dress and jewelry so we figured what the heck.



Fancy.

-------------------------------



The remnants of Christmas. In front you can see the box for the awesome pizza stone Blake got me which I used later that day to make delicious, crispy on the outside soft on the inside rolls. You can also see on the left, the box for Scrabble that my in-laws got for us. It's a really cool edition with slots in the board so the letters don't go flying and drawers under the board so you don't lose pieces, and wheels. Blake and I have played several times. We trade off winning. I'm a better speller, but he's so strategic he's hard to beat. Strike that. He's so strategic it's frustrating to play with him..... there, yeah, that sounds more accurate.

The other board game we played was one of Blake's presents from me: Guess Who? Yes, the board game with the cartoon faces that everyone played when they were eight. Well Guess What? Guess Who? Is still super cool so don't hate on me.

All in all it was a nice Christmas. Our first Christmas away from home. We didn't eat turkey. Didn't wait to open presents. And there wasn't any snow.

Although apparently, there might be later this week.

Not that sad

Christmas makes me smile.

I had a great Christmas. I'll post pictures sometime this century.

But for now, let's talk about yesterday. Last night. When *sigh* we dismantled Christmas. I went to Wal-mart to get a box for our tree and another for ornaments and I got them home and Blake looked at me (half afraid to even utter the words) and said, "you want to just.....?" And I said, "Yes."

I was sad at first and then I realized I was just being sad for being sad's sake. Have I used the word sad enough yet? Probably not. sad sad sad sad sad.

We took the ornaments off the tree and wrapped them up, took the lights down from around the windows and took our tree apart. Blake had to sit on the plastic box to close it, and then tie rope around it. Tonight, we may hear a huge POP! and open the storage room to see nothing but plastic green needles and metal shards sticking to the walls.

Then I spent twenty minutes vaccuuming the needles up. Talk about your unforseen inconvenience.

FAKE Tree = FAKE Needles = Might as well have gotten a real tree if i was going to have to vaccuum all the time and my cat chomped on the branches anyway.

So now the living/dining/kitchen area looks empty. Like we just moved in last week and haven't gotten our knick knacks and pictures out of the boxes yet. The corner where the tree stood proud and shiny is now bare and rather lonely looking. Maybe I'll get a mirror to hang, or a sconce, or I'll hang a big plastic cupid-in-a-diaper for Valentine's Day.