This weekend was the Thanksgiving holiday weekend and as such I took time off from you, my little blog.
Erik's company was let off from work early on Wednesday so that the holiday break could start for everyone. When he got home, I was in the middle of baking a couple of peach streusel pies and trying to get out mini-grill to stay lit. We decided we'd try to finish up dinner and the pies, eat, then get packed and head to Cloyse's house Wednesday evening instead of waiting until Thursday. Three hours later, we finally left the house.
Now, I am the first to admit the following: Not only am I terrified of driving after dark, but I'm also not very good at it. For some reason my brain reads directions, signs, etc all differently in the dark because I am panicked that I will miss a turn, make a wrong one or some other catastrophic world-ending mistake. However, I wanted to let Erik rest so I offered to drive. Never. Again. A trip that took me two hours and fifteen minutes the first time I drove there somehow took me almost four hours. On our way home I realized I had missed literally every turn except the one off the interstate. Regardless, we did reach Cloyse's house and were there and awake long enough to visit and be prepared for the events of the next morning: Hunting.
Erik and I, being new to the area of Fort Drum, have thus figured out a few things. For one thing, it is cold here from about October until April or May. That's a hefty chunk of the year to be in outerwear. Secondly, because of the cold there's not a whole lot to do, but what there is to do is typically outdoors and adventurous type activities. There are a ton of ski lodges in the area, archery, arts and crafts and of course, hunting. Erik and I, both within the last year or so learning to shoot guns, had decided to try our hand at hunting, and Cloyse, being an avid hunter, offered to help us learn when we showed interest. I'm not sure he knew what he was in for. You see, I am cold in summer when others are wearing tank tops. I've always got a hoodie or a sweater with me. My hands and feet are like ice 90% of the time. I explained all this and was told to pack layers.
Thursday morning came around. Erik and Cloyse were up and dressed and chatting when I emerged from the bathroom. My emergence was probably more akin to a waddle, as I closely resembled a round black marshmallow with blue jeans and a blast of orange blindingly glaring out from my safety vest. The guys held back laughter. Which was good for them, or I may have tested my hand at sumo wrestling at the time. As I squished myself up and into the back of Cloyse's truck, I got another treat: Cloyse's truck has those tiny laptop backseats. You know, the ones that shouldn't even legally be able to be called seats? Yeah. After squishing my Michelin-man ass down into those seats I began to wonder if I'd ever get out. Luckily for me, I managed to get out (with a little of Erik's help) when we arrived at out hunting area. Here, I was given something they referred to as a "neck gator" that covered my nose, ears, neck, etc. I sort of looked like a ninja, only puffy and cold and definitely not agile. It provided immense relief from the cold for my face, however it caused another dilemma. Apparently wearing a neck gator makes your glasses fog. Yeah, who'd have thunk it, right? No one clarified that hunting was a sport wherein contacts are preferential to glasses.
I waddled up the hill through the mud and yuck and grass to the area Cloyse had picked for us to hunt. I settled in and stood and watched for...well, anything really. We were primarily looking for deer, but had already decided anything that looked shoot-able was going down.
The first fifteen to twenty minutes I was good. I was the ideal huntress on the prowl. I was scoping out the land, being quiet, watching the others diligently to take note if they spotted anything. And then it happened. White flakes started falling all around us and suddenly my mental processes looked something like this:
Lots of tiny white flakes are falling on me. Ew. Is it getting colder? And wetter? Wow. My face hurts. My hands hurt. My legs hurt. Everything is getting colder. And hurtier. YAWN. Cough. COUGH. Sneeze. Rustle leaves. Stand on the log, step off the log, stand on the log, off the log, balance on the log, WHOOPS FELL OFF THE LOG. Hey, is Erik's hat on the ground? Yep. That's his hat. I bet he forget's his hat. Wow it's cold. I wonder if it's going to keep snowing. How long has it been? Ugh. Should we move? I don't see any deer.
Two things occurred to me as I swished back into the backseat of the truck: I might not like hunting after all and hunting would be better if it were warmer.
After getting back to Cloyse's house, we changed clothes and headed over to Grandma and Grandpa Hoad's house. (Cloyse's parents.) Erik and I had been invited to have Thanksgiving dinner with them. We got there about noon and were the last to leave that evening. It was a really good time. There were some big differences between it and the Thanksgivings I had grown used to in my family. Growing up our Thanksgivings were always enormous with friends, family and everyone you could think of popping in. I remember one year we counted 70+ people at one Thanksgiving. Cloyse's family's Thanksgiving consisted of about 20 with us there. After we'd eaten we headed back to the house, spend some time up with everyone and then slept off our turkey. Black friday I headed out with Stacy but didn't find anything worth spending on for myself, but she cleaned up pretty well. The rest of the day was pretty lax, and then Saturday we unfortunately had to leave early due to lake effect snow storms hitting home. We were afraid if we didn't head here early we might not make it. Good thing, because past Syracuse the storm was so bad we could barely see to get home.
We're here now though, and after finishing up our weekend with Naked Saturday and Do Nothing Sunday, here we are at Monday evening and everything is back into our routine. Life is good.
<3s
Fae
Monday, November 29, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
It's Too Late To Apologize...
Sorry for the lack of post last night and what may end up being short this evening depending on how much I hold my tongue.
My husband is home from JRTC! That made what could have been a very angry evening last night and day today much better. When he is home all my stresses melt away and my life is back to normal.
Family drama ensued unfortunately yesterday evening, but to be honest, I don't want to delve into it right now. Let's just say that people make big mistakes that affect their entire lives. I think they were seeking sympathy for their situation, but because it has negatively effected Erik and myself in a way now as well, we are angry instead of sympathetic. That will pass, but for now it is the impasse that we are at.
Erik greatly enjoys the chocolate covered cherries I made as well as the no-bake cookies Heather, my best friend, send to us. He get's spoiled when he gets home from anywhere. This morning after his welcome home, I snuck out of bed while he slept to make him his favorite breakfast (biscuits and sausage gravy) and woke him up with it. He loves it when I do that.
The last time I was at the commissary (read back a few posts to hear about that "adventure") I got a mini-grill for us because i bought 3 Lawry's seasoning/marinade items. We've thus decided before the snow hits we're going to get it set up and grill burgers tomorrow. Well, I'm going to make the patties and Erik's going to grill them. What is it with men and grilling? Sauteing doesn't do it for them, but grilling is okay? How silly. I'll let him have his way this time though.
I'm off to get some sleep with him soon. Back into our routine tomorrow then a vacation for the Thanksgiving weekend.
<3's
Fae
PS. Thanks for subscribing. I have five subscribers and it makes me quite happy to even have one.
My husband is home from JRTC! That made what could have been a very angry evening last night and day today much better. When he is home all my stresses melt away and my life is back to normal.
Family drama ensued unfortunately yesterday evening, but to be honest, I don't want to delve into it right now. Let's just say that people make big mistakes that affect their entire lives. I think they were seeking sympathy for their situation, but because it has negatively effected Erik and myself in a way now as well, we are angry instead of sympathetic. That will pass, but for now it is the impasse that we are at.
Erik greatly enjoys the chocolate covered cherries I made as well as the no-bake cookies Heather, my best friend, send to us. He get's spoiled when he gets home from anywhere. This morning after his welcome home, I snuck out of bed while he slept to make him his favorite breakfast (biscuits and sausage gravy) and woke him up with it. He loves it when I do that.
The last time I was at the commissary (read back a few posts to hear about that "adventure") I got a mini-grill for us because i bought 3 Lawry's seasoning/marinade items. We've thus decided before the snow hits we're going to get it set up and grill burgers tomorrow. Well, I'm going to make the patties and Erik's going to grill them. What is it with men and grilling? Sauteing doesn't do it for them, but grilling is okay? How silly. I'll let him have his way this time though.
I'm off to get some sleep with him soon. Back into our routine tomorrow then a vacation for the Thanksgiving weekend.
<3's
Fae
PS. Thanks for subscribing. I have five subscribers and it makes me quite happy to even have one.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Big Girls Don't Cry is by Franki Valli, Not Fergie...
Sorry for the lack of a post last night. I actually got to talk to Erik (for quite a long while) so, as much as I do love you, blog, you simply don't compare to my husband. We figured out he'll probably be back either the night before or morning of Thanksgiving, so he's determined we're still going to Grandma and Grandpa Hoad's for Thanksgiving. I've gotta make sure we have some warm clothes packed and boots as well because we're going to hunt afterward.
I've never been hunting and neither has Erik. Since we've moved to Fort Drum, we have realized that the recreation in this area is mostly focused on outdoor activities. We thus decided that we should try to look into these sorts of activities. One of the previous times Erik was in the field I learned to assemble, load, fire and disassemble the rifle Cloyse gave me. (Cloyse is my sister, Susie's, ex husband. He is still a big part of our family and a sort of father figure to me, especially since my Dad is so far away now.) According to Cloyse, Grandma and Grandpa Hoad, I'm a great shot so we're pretty excited to go hunting. I think I'll be super excited until I realize the following: A.) I am the reason that Bambi/Thumper/etc is dead and B.) Bambi/Thumper/etc now must be gutted and cleaned so that I can eat them.
Trust me, I love eating them, but I've never been a part of the getting-them-to-the-pan process. We'll see how this goes!
As for today, I finally made some movement in laundry. Only one load left for the dryer. I always save my bleach load for last so that I don't spill bleach on anything. Too many of my favorite shirts came up with bleach spots when I was a growing up. After getting almost all of it done, whilst playing Assassin's Creed Brotherhood, Shaylee texted me asking if I'd like to go to dinner. Actually, the way the text came across was rather comical. It read something along the lines of "Dinner tonight?? Anywhere?!" which in my head translated what I was feeling the last few days: PLEASE GET ME OUT OF THE HOUSE. PLEASE.
I happily accepted the invite. We went to TGI Fridays where we proceeded to have a great time talking while our server was terrible and ignored us and nearly spilled lemonade on Shaylee's lap and offered neither of us refills on our drinks. At all. The entire hour and a half we were there.
We headed back to my house to play some Buzz! Trivia on the PS3 and Shaylee enjoyed it. She got a call from her hubby (he's with Erik at JRTC) while we were playing and I was happy for her. She also showed me her sonogram pictures of their baby. She's 11 weeks, I believe. Everyone I get near gets pregnant. It's pretty hilarious. I get to live vicariously through all you mommies when I visit and then when the crying and pooping happens I get to pass the little bundle of joy back and head for the nearest exit.
Oh, and Shaylee was also kind enough to taste test the Chocolate-Covered Cherries. She ate a few and seemed to really like them and said they were "so good!" Mission successful.
<3s
Fae
I've never been hunting and neither has Erik. Since we've moved to Fort Drum, we have realized that the recreation in this area is mostly focused on outdoor activities. We thus decided that we should try to look into these sorts of activities. One of the previous times Erik was in the field I learned to assemble, load, fire and disassemble the rifle Cloyse gave me. (Cloyse is my sister, Susie's, ex husband. He is still a big part of our family and a sort of father figure to me, especially since my Dad is so far away now.) According to Cloyse, Grandma and Grandpa Hoad, I'm a great shot so we're pretty excited to go hunting. I think I'll be super excited until I realize the following: A.) I am the reason that Bambi/Thumper/etc is dead and B.) Bambi/Thumper/etc now must be gutted and cleaned so that I can eat them.
Trust me, I love eating them, but I've never been a part of the getting-them-to-the-pan process. We'll see how this goes!
As for today, I finally made some movement in laundry. Only one load left for the dryer. I always save my bleach load for last so that I don't spill bleach on anything. Too many of my favorite shirts came up with bleach spots when I was a growing up. After getting almost all of it done, whilst playing Assassin's Creed Brotherhood, Shaylee texted me asking if I'd like to go to dinner. Actually, the way the text came across was rather comical. It read something along the lines of "Dinner tonight?? Anywhere?!" which in my head translated what I was feeling the last few days: PLEASE GET ME OUT OF THE HOUSE. PLEASE.
I happily accepted the invite. We went to TGI Fridays where we proceeded to have a great time talking while our server was terrible and ignored us and nearly spilled lemonade on Shaylee's lap and offered neither of us refills on our drinks. At all. The entire hour and a half we were there.
We headed back to my house to play some Buzz! Trivia on the PS3 and Shaylee enjoyed it. She got a call from her hubby (he's with Erik at JRTC) while we were playing and I was happy for her. She also showed me her sonogram pictures of their baby. She's 11 weeks, I believe. Everyone I get near gets pregnant. It's pretty hilarious. I get to live vicariously through all you mommies when I visit and then when the crying and pooping happens I get to pass the little bundle of joy back and head for the nearest exit.
Oh, and Shaylee was also kind enough to taste test the Chocolate-Covered Cherries. She ate a few and seemed to really like them and said they were "so good!" Mission successful.
<3s
Fae
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Life is Like a Box of Chocolate Covered Cherries...
So today has been rather busy. I've been trying to do laundry, clean, organize as well as work on some baking and cooking.
I decided to start the day by continuing to sort the laundry while tossing already sorted loads in. My laundry room is directly across from our spare room, currently Erik's man room. Well. That room has his man things and his army stuff in it, but at the time it was also sort of the catch all room for unpacked boxes, partially unpacked boxes and things we hadn't organized yet. While constantly bending to reach for laundry I kept staring at the room and it kept taunting me, so finally once the loads were sorted, I tackled it full force. Erik's man room is now clean, organized and functional. His weight bench is not longer a shelf, his behemoth of a television is no longer a table and the spare desk is now usable. I even put our posters up in there. I think it will make him happy.
Of course, cleaning the man room meant the boxes had to go somewhere. Our garbage men won't take them unless its "bulk day" which they have yet to tell us when that is...so they were sort of everywhere in the garage and as I transported boxes from the man room to the garage, something snapped and I simply could not stand it anymore. All of those boxes that are empty are now in the storage cubby at the end of the garage. The storage tubs are still near the shelves stacked, but neater, and getting to the car isn't an obstacle course. The Halloween decorations are tucked back away and the Christmas decorations and tree are easily accessible. Go me!
After the boxing, I proceeded to frame the rest of Erik's certificates that I'd finally found in his things. They are now hanging on display down our hallway.
When I got back to the kitchen, i tidied up a bit and found that my bananas were getting spotty too quickly, so now, at random intervals on the counters of my kitchen there are bananas. Bananas release a gas that causes them and other fruits around them to brown faster, but when they aren't kept in a bunch they brown much more slowly, so silly as it seems, there is a reason for my bananas to be randomly strewn across the kitchen.
After strategically placing my bananas, I decided to finish up my project of making homemade chocolate-covered cherries. Remind me next time that I don't want to make these again, please? Someone? Anyone?
Though they are tasty, the time it takes to make them combined with the mess is just not worth it in my opinion. It was messy and frustrating. First you have to drain and freeze the cherries. Then cover them in a very sticky, very temperamental coating that eventually turns into that creamy filling around the cherry. After coating them in that and freezing them again, you must quickly dip them in chocolate and get them onto wax paper. If you don't dip them quickly, the coating gets into the melted chocolate and makes it clumpy. Here are some pictures:
After all that, you're supposed to let them cure two weeks in the fridge for the middles to get soft and creamy and the flavor to develop. Erik is home next week. Good luck on that two week curing process happening!
<3s
Fae
I decided to start the day by continuing to sort the laundry while tossing already sorted loads in. My laundry room is directly across from our spare room, currently Erik's man room. Well. That room has his man things and his army stuff in it, but at the time it was also sort of the catch all room for unpacked boxes, partially unpacked boxes and things we hadn't organized yet. While constantly bending to reach for laundry I kept staring at the room and it kept taunting me, so finally once the loads were sorted, I tackled it full force. Erik's man room is now clean, organized and functional. His weight bench is not longer a shelf, his behemoth of a television is no longer a table and the spare desk is now usable. I even put our posters up in there. I think it will make him happy.
Of course, cleaning the man room meant the boxes had to go somewhere. Our garbage men won't take them unless its "bulk day" which they have yet to tell us when that is...so they were sort of everywhere in the garage and as I transported boxes from the man room to the garage, something snapped and I simply could not stand it anymore. All of those boxes that are empty are now in the storage cubby at the end of the garage. The storage tubs are still near the shelves stacked, but neater, and getting to the car isn't an obstacle course. The Halloween decorations are tucked back away and the Christmas decorations and tree are easily accessible. Go me!
After the boxing, I proceeded to frame the rest of Erik's certificates that I'd finally found in his things. They are now hanging on display down our hallway.
When I got back to the kitchen, i tidied up a bit and found that my bananas were getting spotty too quickly, so now, at random intervals on the counters of my kitchen there are bananas. Bananas release a gas that causes them and other fruits around them to brown faster, but when they aren't kept in a bunch they brown much more slowly, so silly as it seems, there is a reason for my bananas to be randomly strewn across the kitchen.
After strategically placing my bananas, I decided to finish up my project of making homemade chocolate-covered cherries. Remind me next time that I don't want to make these again, please? Someone? Anyone?
Though they are tasty, the time it takes to make them combined with the mess is just not worth it in my opinion. It was messy and frustrating. First you have to drain and freeze the cherries. Then cover them in a very sticky, very temperamental coating that eventually turns into that creamy filling around the cherry. After coating them in that and freezing them again, you must quickly dip them in chocolate and get them onto wax paper. If you don't dip them quickly, the coating gets into the melted chocolate and makes it clumpy. Here are some pictures:
After all that, you're supposed to let them cure two weeks in the fridge for the middles to get soft and creamy and the flavor to develop. Erik is home next week. Good luck on that two week curing process happening!
<3s
Fae
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Commissary Turned Commiseratery...
I have never seen so many grumpy and rude people in one place. Holy cow! The commissary was supposed to be slower today. The ladies inside said it was slower today, but if it was then i am truly thankful I did not go the other days. I had to park in Egypt, which really didn't bother me that much because when I went earlier it was cool, but sunny.
The moment I stepped inside though, it was like stepping into a room full of snapping turtles. Sudden movements and you're gonna have something nasty to deal with and you might lose a finger.
It started off with some old man butting in front of me for a cart. Twice, might I add, because the cart we both reached for the first time was stuck so when I went to get a different one he reached in front of me and grabbed it. After making a third and successful attempt at getting a cart, I got inside and realized with it being so crowded it was really hot, so I stopped in an empty display area near the front and took off my hoodie. The process that probably took me all of thirty seconds was not fast enough for the old woman behind me who "ahem"-ed at me and then tried to move her cart around mine through the narrow way which caused her to bump my cart which then bumped the display and knocked over twelve or so cans of evaporated milk. When she realized she did this, she tried to turn away from my cart, apparently in a move to get away quickly, and ended up knocking into a cardboard Jell-O display and knocking a bunch of boxes off of it. An associate who had been passing out coupons nearby ran over to help and I thanked her while listening to the woman who caused the incidents lecture her on how crowded the commissary is and how ridiculous it is to have the aisles so close together. Making my way past the Thanksgiving-is-coming-so-here-is-a-bunch-of-random-sort-of-Thanksgiving-related-stuff displays, I got to produce in time for stocking. For some reason, stockers don't get that I'm there to buy the things they are stocking, so they still have to let me through. I was trying to get to the bananas and I reached over one of the stockers' boxes and she said "We're stocking right now, it'd be easier for you to get to things if you came back." Which translated as: "I hate my job, you're in my way, go away." I responded by moving her cart of boxes and getting my bananas and moving on.
I finished up my produce shopping, which by the way was quite disappointing. Wal-Mart's prices are far better on produce right now than the commissary on everything but onions and potatoes. So much for better prices for our military. Anyway, I did more of my usual shopping then headed to the section I dread the most: the meat department. One thing the commissary is awesome about is meat prices. I literally pay half and sometimes even less than half the price for meat that is usually way better quality at the commissary rather than a grocery store. However, everyone else knows this little tidbit too. The meat department is always swarmed with people picking and poking and thinking and talking. I go in with a plan. I know what I want, how much, and what price I'm looking for. I parked my cart, focused on my target and moved in. Someone apparently is having the biggest barbecue of their life or is feeding Africa this weekend, because I barely got away with one package each of chicken breasts and chicken thighs and two turkey roast things. (Its made by Butterball, its like turkey meat but they deboned it and mushed it all together. The regular turkeys are too much for just Erik and myself!) I surfaced and found my way back to my cart just as some woman with a pack of six children, all appearing under age 8, came rushing up to buy chicken only to be informed they were out of drumsticks. I heard her, quite angry, three aisles down while getting milk five minutes later. I feel sorry for the man who told her they were out.
Finally I finished and was on my way to the line to wait for a checkout lane, when suddenly I felt metal brush against my leg abruptly and slightly painfully. Apparently, I was not moving fast enough for a woman and her husband with two cars, so she nudged me with her car and wedged it past me and my cart, then sharply told her husband to "Come on" and "Hurry up." He apologized and said "excuse me" with which she turned around and gave him quite an angry face and responded again with "hurry up."
I had a private moment of laughter when she rushed him over to the express lane only to be told that they had to wait to be called by the machine for the next customer because otherwise they might be jumping ahead of someone. In the mean time, I was called next and smiled as I pushed my cart passed her on my way to the checkout and on her way back to the waiting line which was now twice the size it was before.
After the terrors of grocery shopping far too close to Thanksgiving, I popped over to the PX because it is connected to the commissary. Erik and I had pre-ordered Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood. He knows I liked the first, loved the second, and was interested to try the third so he made sure we pre-ordered it for me. :) I also picked up a surprise for him. Call of Duty: Black Ops. He didn't ask for it, but I know he loved Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 and I think that with everyone else he knows wanting to play Black Ops, he'll enjoy it.
After putting groceries away and checking the mail and mailing out forms for insurances and what not, I tried out the new game. It's really good so far. Now I'm tired though and my power is flickering on and off thanks to the wind being ridiculous. We have a wind advisory for the next eight hours. I think I'll head to bed and enjoy not hearing the neighbors cars being hit with garbage cans and branches.
<3s
Fae
The moment I stepped inside though, it was like stepping into a room full of snapping turtles. Sudden movements and you're gonna have something nasty to deal with and you might lose a finger.
It started off with some old man butting in front of me for a cart. Twice, might I add, because the cart we both reached for the first time was stuck so when I went to get a different one he reached in front of me and grabbed it. After making a third and successful attempt at getting a cart, I got inside and realized with it being so crowded it was really hot, so I stopped in an empty display area near the front and took off my hoodie. The process that probably took me all of thirty seconds was not fast enough for the old woman behind me who "ahem"-ed at me and then tried to move her cart around mine through the narrow way which caused her to bump my cart which then bumped the display and knocked over twelve or so cans of evaporated milk. When she realized she did this, she tried to turn away from my cart, apparently in a move to get away quickly, and ended up knocking into a cardboard Jell-O display and knocking a bunch of boxes off of it. An associate who had been passing out coupons nearby ran over to help and I thanked her while listening to the woman who caused the incidents lecture her on how crowded the commissary is and how ridiculous it is to have the aisles so close together. Making my way past the Thanksgiving-is-coming-so-here-is-a-bunch-of-random-sort-of-Thanksgiving-related-stuff displays, I got to produce in time for stocking. For some reason, stockers don't get that I'm there to buy the things they are stocking, so they still have to let me through. I was trying to get to the bananas and I reached over one of the stockers' boxes and she said "We're stocking right now, it'd be easier for you to get to things if you came back." Which translated as: "I hate my job, you're in my way, go away." I responded by moving her cart of boxes and getting my bananas and moving on.
I finished up my produce shopping, which by the way was quite disappointing. Wal-Mart's prices are far better on produce right now than the commissary on everything but onions and potatoes. So much for better prices for our military. Anyway, I did more of my usual shopping then headed to the section I dread the most: the meat department. One thing the commissary is awesome about is meat prices. I literally pay half and sometimes even less than half the price for meat that is usually way better quality at the commissary rather than a grocery store. However, everyone else knows this little tidbit too. The meat department is always swarmed with people picking and poking and thinking and talking. I go in with a plan. I know what I want, how much, and what price I'm looking for. I parked my cart, focused on my target and moved in. Someone apparently is having the biggest barbecue of their life or is feeding Africa this weekend, because I barely got away with one package each of chicken breasts and chicken thighs and two turkey roast things. (Its made by Butterball, its like turkey meat but they deboned it and mushed it all together. The regular turkeys are too much for just Erik and myself!) I surfaced and found my way back to my cart just as some woman with a pack of six children, all appearing under age 8, came rushing up to buy chicken only to be informed they were out of drumsticks. I heard her, quite angry, three aisles down while getting milk five minutes later. I feel sorry for the man who told her they were out.
Finally I finished and was on my way to the line to wait for a checkout lane, when suddenly I felt metal brush against my leg abruptly and slightly painfully. Apparently, I was not moving fast enough for a woman and her husband with two cars, so she nudged me with her car and wedged it past me and my cart, then sharply told her husband to "Come on" and "Hurry up." He apologized and said "excuse me" with which she turned around and gave him quite an angry face and responded again with "hurry up."
I had a private moment of laughter when she rushed him over to the express lane only to be told that they had to wait to be called by the machine for the next customer because otherwise they might be jumping ahead of someone. In the mean time, I was called next and smiled as I pushed my cart passed her on my way to the checkout and on her way back to the waiting line which was now twice the size it was before.
After the terrors of grocery shopping far too close to Thanksgiving, I popped over to the PX because it is connected to the commissary. Erik and I had pre-ordered Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood. He knows I liked the first, loved the second, and was interested to try the third so he made sure we pre-ordered it for me. :) I also picked up a surprise for him. Call of Duty: Black Ops. He didn't ask for it, but I know he loved Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 and I think that with everyone else he knows wanting to play Black Ops, he'll enjoy it.
After putting groceries away and checking the mail and mailing out forms for insurances and what not, I tried out the new game. It's really good so far. Now I'm tired though and my power is flickering on and off thanks to the wind being ridiculous. We have a wind advisory for the next eight hours. I think I'll head to bed and enjoy not hearing the neighbors cars being hit with garbage cans and branches.
<3s
Fae
Monday, November 15, 2010
Yeah....I Clean My Vacuum...
Got back into the swing of things today. Cleaned up around the house. (Still have a lot to do PLUS laundry and groceries tomorrow. Not too many groceries though since I realized we won't be needing too many for the next couple weeks.) I did some sweeping and vacuuming and realized my filter and canister were dirty so I went to clean them out and of course they need to dry so they're drying in the rack, so tonight when my friends Shaylee came over to eat dinner with me she asked what was on the counter and I told her I had cleaned my vacuum and she laughed at me. I guess it does sound silly, but its necessary! :P
I've been researching different methods for candy making and different tools. It seems like some people do a great deal of unnecessary steps that truly seem to just make their lives more difficult when it comes to candy and confection making. My hero, Alton Brown, had a few specials around Halloween (and other times) about candy-making and I like that he knows ways to make it easier without cheapening the integrity of the food. I like to cross reference his techniques versus others to choose which is best or even sometimes take a middle-ground approach. I've got an idea for a Banana-Mallow pop covered in fudge and dipped in chopped peanuts. I don't even usually like those things combined but it sounds delicious to me.
I can't wait to get some things together and start testing recipes. Shaylee said she'd be happy to taste test. I really hope things work out to where she stays in the area during the deployments so that she and I can hang out. She's the only friend I've made here so far.
It's weird making friends as an adult. In school you're around people all day and get to know them and make friends so easily, but as an adult its like all that ease is taken away and you have to try to make friends and then you're stuck in this awkward limbo where you don't want to seem needy or pushy but you don't want to be stand-offish or mean either. I think my shyness may cause others to assume I am the latter, and to be honest, quite often I can be a little rough but not mean. I'm just honest, and I think that that's something people aren't accustomed to. I don't tiptoe around things very often. Don't see a point to fibbing when I can just get to the point faster.
I'm quite cold now and my cocoa is calling my name.
<3s
Fae
I've been researching different methods for candy making and different tools. It seems like some people do a great deal of unnecessary steps that truly seem to just make their lives more difficult when it comes to candy and confection making. My hero, Alton Brown, had a few specials around Halloween (and other times) about candy-making and I like that he knows ways to make it easier without cheapening the integrity of the food. I like to cross reference his techniques versus others to choose which is best or even sometimes take a middle-ground approach. I've got an idea for a Banana-Mallow pop covered in fudge and dipped in chopped peanuts. I don't even usually like those things combined but it sounds delicious to me.
I can't wait to get some things together and start testing recipes. Shaylee said she'd be happy to taste test. I really hope things work out to where she stays in the area during the deployments so that she and I can hang out. She's the only friend I've made here so far.
It's weird making friends as an adult. In school you're around people all day and get to know them and make friends so easily, but as an adult its like all that ease is taken away and you have to try to make friends and then you're stuck in this awkward limbo where you don't want to seem needy or pushy but you don't want to be stand-offish or mean either. I think my shyness may cause others to assume I am the latter, and to be honest, quite often I can be a little rough but not mean. I'm just honest, and I think that that's something people aren't accustomed to. I don't tiptoe around things very often. Don't see a point to fibbing when I can just get to the point faster.
I'm quite cold now and my cocoa is calling my name.
<3s
Fae
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Home Sweet Home...
I arrived back at my house a couple of hours ago. The drive is gorgeous through the mountains to get from here to Connecticut, but I hate driving so that's a critical flaw.
John and Beth nearly had me convinced to stay another night. I was back inside with the laptop and the puppy in tow but then I remembered my meds, Rory's meds & my calls with insurances this week not to mention my need to schedule a make-up appointment for the one I missed. That on top of feeling like I was being lazy because I wasn't home cleaning and cooking and those sorts of things that are part of my daily routine.
I miss them already though. I think Rory does too. She's moping on the couch on Erik's socks. (That he left stuffed between the cushions of his recliner, might I add. I could beat him.)
It was nice to visit with John and Beth. When I spend time with John its like I'm having that big brother-little sister bond that I really want to have and I feel that whole "I'm safe because this is my big brother and he's going to look out for me" thing going on that I don't have so much with my brother James. We used to have that, but I guess we just sort of drifted apart. And Beth is like a best friend. She and I can talk and laugh about anything and we have alot in common. She'd be the perfect addition to the Heather-Lethia-Yuri-Bunny quartet. We could be a...err...group of five...one sec, I'm Googling... Ah-ha! Quintet!
I did miss my house though. It's weird to think that Erik and I have lived four places together now. We lived at my parent's in Tennessee, then with my biological mom's in Kansas, then we got our very first place together in Kansas and now we have our first place here in New York. Each place felt like home, just like this one now does. It's nothing grand or to brag about, but its ours. We live here and we fill it with love and laughter and make it our own.
It's good to be home.
<3s
Fae
John and Beth nearly had me convinced to stay another night. I was back inside with the laptop and the puppy in tow but then I remembered my meds, Rory's meds & my calls with insurances this week not to mention my need to schedule a make-up appointment for the one I missed. That on top of feeling like I was being lazy because I wasn't home cleaning and cooking and those sorts of things that are part of my daily routine.
I miss them already though. I think Rory does too. She's moping on the couch on Erik's socks. (That he left stuffed between the cushions of his recliner, might I add. I could beat him.)
It was nice to visit with John and Beth. When I spend time with John its like I'm having that big brother-little sister bond that I really want to have and I feel that whole "I'm safe because this is my big brother and he's going to look out for me" thing going on that I don't have so much with my brother James. We used to have that, but I guess we just sort of drifted apart. And Beth is like a best friend. She and I can talk and laugh about anything and we have alot in common. She'd be the perfect addition to the Heather-Lethia-Yuri-Bunny quartet. We could be a...err...group of five...one sec, I'm Googling... Ah-ha! Quintet!
I did miss my house though. It's weird to think that Erik and I have lived four places together now. We lived at my parent's in Tennessee, then with my biological mom's in Kansas, then we got our very first place together in Kansas and now we have our first place here in New York. Each place felt like home, just like this one now does. It's nothing grand or to brag about, but its ours. We live here and we fill it with love and laughter and make it our own.
It's good to be home.
<3s
Fae
Shorty...
Eating a Greek salad at 2:30 AM. Watched my brother John beat Star Wars: The Force Unleashed 2. Made him fight Darth Vader a second time because he picked Dark Side ending the first time and I wanted the happier Light Side ending. Realized I hadn't posted my blog and so I figured I'd atleast make this shorty update.
Most importantly: I got a call from Erik finally tonight. It was so nice to hear his voice. One phone call from him can make the entire time he's gone melt away and seem so much shorter.
A negative though: His hip muscle, we knew, is torn. He's been doing physical therapy for it and has been on profile. (He wasn't really supposed to go to JRTC but they had him go anyway.) And now an officer there examined him and its worse then they thought. His cartilage is torn so he is scheduled for MRI's & X-rays when he gets home so that it can be examined. There is a 90% chance he'll be needing hip surgery to fix it and not only is that very painful but it also has a long recuperation time. I'll be right by his side for all of it.
Going to go finish my salad now.
<3s
Fae
Most importantly: I got a call from Erik finally tonight. It was so nice to hear his voice. One phone call from him can make the entire time he's gone melt away and seem so much shorter.
A negative though: His hip muscle, we knew, is torn. He's been doing physical therapy for it and has been on profile. (He wasn't really supposed to go to JRTC but they had him go anyway.) And now an officer there examined him and its worse then they thought. His cartilage is torn so he is scheduled for MRI's & X-rays when he gets home so that it can be examined. There is a 90% chance he'll be needing hip surgery to fix it and not only is that very painful but it also has a long recuperation time. I'll be right by his side for all of it.
Going to go finish my salad now.
<3s
Fae
Friday, November 12, 2010
Gettin' My Craft On...
Thanks to Beth of Let's Get Crafty, I got some instruction in box/favor/bag creations as well as decoration. As I have mentioned, I'm planning for this small business project of mine where-in I will be creating, making and selling all sorts of sweets from candies to chocolates to cake truffles, cookies, cupcakes, cakes and more as well as the occasional small gifts and gift sets. I wondered how hard it would be to make my own decorative packaging or even take pre-made packaging and design or decorate it. Thanks to her advice and guidance, I made my first small package and now know that it's really not hard, its fun and there are literally millions of options for color, texture and pattern combinations. I created a small favor bag that could hold two homemade mallows or two to three truffles. They'd make good quick-grabs for me to sell around my area or to sell in bulk as favors or other things like that.
I know this project won't be easy, but I think in life the things worth doing may not always be the easiest things. Its worth it to try, right?
Below are a few snapshots with my phone of the package I made:
Oh. Good news: I got a call from my husband earlier. Well, actually my voicemail did. Because of course the ONE time since he's been gone that I walked away from my phone to get a drink is when he called and I didn't hear it. Atleast I got to hear the voicemail. Just hearing his voice made the day better.
I go home Sunday. That means tomorrow is my last day here. Better make it count! Goodnight, readers, whoever you are.
<3s
Fae
I know this project won't be easy, but I think in life the things worth doing may not always be the easiest things. Its worth it to try, right?
Below are a few snapshots with my phone of the package I made:
Oh. Good news: I got a call from my husband earlier. Well, actually my voicemail did. Because of course the ONE time since he's been gone that I walked away from my phone to get a drink is when he called and I didn't hear it. Atleast I got to hear the voicemail. Just hearing his voice made the day better.
I go home Sunday. That means tomorrow is my last day here. Better make it count! Goodnight, readers, whoever you are.
<3s
Fae
A Small Post. A Postito, If You Will...
Don't expect multiple posts a day to happen too often. Today I just feel like it. I have all of these thoughts and little ideas I'm tossing around that I think I'll be able to sort out better if I see them typed up.
I'm considering trying to set up a sort of tasting party perhaps through my FRG here. (For those who may not know, FRG stands for Family Readiness Group. Its a group for families of soldiers, especially those who are deploying. It's like a support group.) I figure if I could get a tasting party set up prior to the holidays that maybe before or after the holidays I could make a few sales of cookies and stuff. At the same time though, I'd sort of rather worry about the business once Erik's deployed and just collect and organize recipes (maybe a test a few on him) now and then do the parties after he's gone when I'll need it to fill up time and occupy me.
I'm also torn as to whether to get a second puppy. Seeing Rory playing with Bella and being so happy and energetic reminds me of her playing with Little Man (my parent's dog) or with Duckie (my biological mom's cat.) It makes me wonder if she'd like another little dog to play with or if she'd feel replaced since it's always been just her since she was a puppy. (She's four.) Another consideration is that if I want to go anywhere while Erik is gone, or if we want to go anywhere together, we'd have to worry about kenneling two puppies or taking two puppies with us. We already have that same concern with Rory now, and then it would be doubled!
And then there's the big issue: Babies. I can honestly say that I don't think we're ready and that I really don't want a child right now. Erik and I want to establish ourselves and be married a minimum of three years (though we're aiming for five) before we have children. Erik also has the concern that with him being in the military he knows he will miss big events in our childrens' lives because of deployments and field duties. He loves the military, but the idea of missing football games, dance recitals, proms, graduations, birthdays & Christmases with our children makes him reconsider his goal of retiring military. The idea of raising children alone more often than with him there sort of terrifies me as well.
But at the same time, I know we could do it. I know we would be fine even if it was hard. And I know that sometimes I want time to speed up and us to be ready and know more clearly what's happening with our lives in the future so we can know when it will be time for us to have a baby. It would be nice to just have a peek into the future to help us pick when the time was right.
I need to go cook something so I stop thinking so much.
I'm considering trying to set up a sort of tasting party perhaps through my FRG here. (For those who may not know, FRG stands for Family Readiness Group. Its a group for families of soldiers, especially those who are deploying. It's like a support group.) I figure if I could get a tasting party set up prior to the holidays that maybe before or after the holidays I could make a few sales of cookies and stuff. At the same time though, I'd sort of rather worry about the business once Erik's deployed and just collect and organize recipes (maybe a test a few on him) now and then do the parties after he's gone when I'll need it to fill up time and occupy me.
I'm also torn as to whether to get a second puppy. Seeing Rory playing with Bella and being so happy and energetic reminds me of her playing with Little Man (my parent's dog) or with Duckie (my biological mom's cat.) It makes me wonder if she'd like another little dog to play with or if she'd feel replaced since it's always been just her since she was a puppy. (She's four.) Another consideration is that if I want to go anywhere while Erik is gone, or if we want to go anywhere together, we'd have to worry about kenneling two puppies or taking two puppies with us. We already have that same concern with Rory now, and then it would be doubled!
And then there's the big issue: Babies. I can honestly say that I don't think we're ready and that I really don't want a child right now. Erik and I want to establish ourselves and be married a minimum of three years (though we're aiming for five) before we have children. Erik also has the concern that with him being in the military he knows he will miss big events in our childrens' lives because of deployments and field duties. He loves the military, but the idea of missing football games, dance recitals, proms, graduations, birthdays & Christmases with our children makes him reconsider his goal of retiring military. The idea of raising children alone more often than with him there sort of terrifies me as well.
But at the same time, I know we could do it. I know we would be fine even if it was hard. And I know that sometimes I want time to speed up and us to be ready and know more clearly what's happening with our lives in the future so we can know when it will be time for us to have a baby. It would be nice to just have a peek into the future to help us pick when the time was right.
I need to go cook something so I stop thinking so much.
Learning to Breathe, Count, Exhale and Punch the Wall and Not the Person...
I had a dream last night that I tried to smother someone with a pillow and then I pushed them off a cliff.
As a military wife, especially of a soldier who is gone often, (whether that be to the field, training, or deployments) you will very quickly learn something important: People are inconsiderate and annoying.
Yeah, that's right, I said it. We all think it and I said it and I'm about to say more.
Now, I get that when we're home and our soldiers are away, we are more sensitive and people shouldn't have to walk on eggshells, but at the same time it would be nice if they would think before they spoke. Perhaps even go so far as to put themselves in our shoes for a moment before making statements or asking questions.
For instance, when Erik was in Basic and AIT he encountered an injury that caused his time in training (our time apart) to be extended. That coupled with the delay of his orders, instead of what should have been 6 months apart, we were apart almost a year. When we were finally back together, one of the first questions people kept asking was: When do you think he'll get deployed?
Really? I mean, really?! My husband and I were finally back together and all people could ask about was when we were going to have to be apart again and each time I heard that question I wanted to scream, cry and hurl them off the nearest rooftop.
Advice from people who aren't going through what you are going through, haven't gone through it, or who you know wouldn't be able to handle going through it is also on the list of things that send you from fine to raging lunatic within about .5 seconds. "Why don't you get a job to help pass the time and distract you?" You're right, because I won't ever think about him there. Also, breaking down in front of a group of people is way better than doing it at home. "Make sure you don't tell him you miss him all the time." Okay, first of all, duh. Second of all, even though that is a duh, how about you try NOT telling your best friend and the love of your life that your heart feels like its being ripped out and used as a hackysack when they walk out of the door is hard. You're torn between wanting to tell them you love them and miss them because you want to make sure they always know that and yet knowing that sometimes the more they know you miss them the more they worry about you and you need their head to be in what they are doing, not on you.
And then their are the people who wanna tell you they know where you are coming from, they get it because their spouse has been off on business for four days. Four. Whole. Days. Whoa. My mind is blown. How do you do it? That must be tough. Oh me? Oh you're right, because my husband is in the military I must be used to it and so great at handling it. Oh? You want to vent to me about how lonely you are? How hard it is to keep things running while he's not there? You wanna wear my shoes for a year, sweetie, then give me that sob story? I didn't think so.
And then there is the worst thing: Another military wife bragging about how her husband has never gone to the field or deployed, or doesn't go to the field or deploy where you all just got stationed. Talk about lack of understanding where you think it ought to come from. Salt in the wound, much? I mean, I'm more than happy for wives whose husbands don't deploy. That is a real blessing. But why be nasty to the rest of us? Why rub that in? Why so callously throw that around to the rest of us who you know are aching and hurting? Its so unkind and truly hurts more because we are supposed to have a sort of sisterhood and understanding for one another.
Thank God for the people who truly work to understand what it's like or who are careful and gentle with their words. We are oversensitive, we do take more things to heart than perhaps we should, but would it hurt for a little consideration for us?
<3s
Fae Fae
As a military wife, especially of a soldier who is gone often, (whether that be to the field, training, or deployments) you will very quickly learn something important: People are inconsiderate and annoying.
Yeah, that's right, I said it. We all think it and I said it and I'm about to say more.
Now, I get that when we're home and our soldiers are away, we are more sensitive and people shouldn't have to walk on eggshells, but at the same time it would be nice if they would think before they spoke. Perhaps even go so far as to put themselves in our shoes for a moment before making statements or asking questions.
For instance, when Erik was in Basic and AIT he encountered an injury that caused his time in training (our time apart) to be extended. That coupled with the delay of his orders, instead of what should have been 6 months apart, we were apart almost a year. When we were finally back together, one of the first questions people kept asking was: When do you think he'll get deployed?
Really? I mean, really?! My husband and I were finally back together and all people could ask about was when we were going to have to be apart again and each time I heard that question I wanted to scream, cry and hurl them off the nearest rooftop.
Advice from people who aren't going through what you are going through, haven't gone through it, or who you know wouldn't be able to handle going through it is also on the list of things that send you from fine to raging lunatic within about .5 seconds. "Why don't you get a job to help pass the time and distract you?" You're right, because I won't ever think about him there. Also, breaking down in front of a group of people is way better than doing it at home. "Make sure you don't tell him you miss him all the time." Okay, first of all, duh. Second of all, even though that is a duh, how about you try NOT telling your best friend and the love of your life that your heart feels like its being ripped out and used as a hackysack when they walk out of the door is hard. You're torn between wanting to tell them you love them and miss them because you want to make sure they always know that and yet knowing that sometimes the more they know you miss them the more they worry about you and you need their head to be in what they are doing, not on you.
And then their are the people who wanna tell you they know where you are coming from, they get it because their spouse has been off on business for four days. Four. Whole. Days. Whoa. My mind is blown. How do you do it? That must be tough. Oh me? Oh you're right, because my husband is in the military I must be used to it and so great at handling it. Oh? You want to vent to me about how lonely you are? How hard it is to keep things running while he's not there? You wanna wear my shoes for a year, sweetie, then give me that sob story? I didn't think so.
And then there is the worst thing: Another military wife bragging about how her husband has never gone to the field or deployed, or doesn't go to the field or deploy where you all just got stationed. Talk about lack of understanding where you think it ought to come from. Salt in the wound, much? I mean, I'm more than happy for wives whose husbands don't deploy. That is a real blessing. But why be nasty to the rest of us? Why rub that in? Why so callously throw that around to the rest of us who you know are aching and hurting? Its so unkind and truly hurts more because we are supposed to have a sort of sisterhood and understanding for one another.
Thank God for the people who truly work to understand what it's like or who are careful and gentle with their words. We are oversensitive, we do take more things to heart than perhaps we should, but would it hurt for a little consideration for us?
<3s
Fae Fae
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
When He's Gone...
It's truly hard to explain all the feelings you experience when your soldier is away. I'd dare to say the description is impossible. There are so many mixed feelings and sometimes they come all at once. Other times one of them consumes you entirely.
Sadness and loneliness come together. They hang around constantly, whether consciously or subconsciously. Distractions help, but even then a random sound or smell or taste can remind you of him and you'll break.
Nights are worst for me. I change by myself with no one watching so that I feel shy. Even though we're married I still hide or change quickly like he's never seen me naked before. I walk through the house to check the locks and lights alone. Since I'm afraid of the dark, this job isn't just lonely, it's a little unnerving. When I brush my teeth the other half of the mirror is empty and I have no one to compete with over whose turn it is to spit in the sink. And then comes the bed. The big empty side of it that looks undisturbed. The pillows that haven't moved and are still fluffed up with no dent from his head resting on them. Sleep is nearly impossible without the sound of his breaths or the warmth of him radiating to me below the sheets.
Then there's the jealousy. Everyone around you is with their spouse. Why does your spouse have to go but not theirs? And why do some people whine about being away from each other a day/week/month when you are away from him for a year at a time? That's not fair. He works so hard and we can't even be home.
Then there's the paranoia. "Does he even miss me?" "Is he really busy or does he just not want to talk?" "What does he mean he's "too tired" to talk? and so many more ridiculous questions that you don't need to ask. You're married. It's not like he's going to run off with someone else, so stop stressing. I give myself these speeches constantly but its apparently in vain because a little while later I'm back to the same questions.
The not often mentioned "at least I have the house to myself" syndrome which is quickly followed by guilt. Everyone needs alone time. We all need breaks to just do something alone. There is no reason to feel guilty about that. We have hard jobs as wives regardless of what some people think or say, and we need breaks too. Now I know we don't want or need a twelve month break or even a two week break, but at the same time there are times when you find yourself thinking "Its nice to be able to just sit back alone and read a book."
I'm nodding off, everyone. My melatonin must be working because I'm quite tired. I'll continue tomorrow.
<3's
Fae Fae
Sadness and loneliness come together. They hang around constantly, whether consciously or subconsciously. Distractions help, but even then a random sound or smell or taste can remind you of him and you'll break.
Nights are worst for me. I change by myself with no one watching so that I feel shy. Even though we're married I still hide or change quickly like he's never seen me naked before. I walk through the house to check the locks and lights alone. Since I'm afraid of the dark, this job isn't just lonely, it's a little unnerving. When I brush my teeth the other half of the mirror is empty and I have no one to compete with over whose turn it is to spit in the sink. And then comes the bed. The big empty side of it that looks undisturbed. The pillows that haven't moved and are still fluffed up with no dent from his head resting on them. Sleep is nearly impossible without the sound of his breaths or the warmth of him radiating to me below the sheets.
Then there's the jealousy. Everyone around you is with their spouse. Why does your spouse have to go but not theirs? And why do some people whine about being away from each other a day/week/month when you are away from him for a year at a time? That's not fair. He works so hard and we can't even be home.
Then there's the paranoia. "Does he even miss me?" "Is he really busy or does he just not want to talk?" "What does he mean he's "too tired" to talk? and so many more ridiculous questions that you don't need to ask. You're married. It's not like he's going to run off with someone else, so stop stressing. I give myself these speeches constantly but its apparently in vain because a little while later I'm back to the same questions.
The not often mentioned "at least I have the house to myself" syndrome which is quickly followed by guilt. Everyone needs alone time. We all need breaks to just do something alone. There is no reason to feel guilty about that. We have hard jobs as wives regardless of what some people think or say, and we need breaks too. Now I know we don't want or need a twelve month break or even a two week break, but at the same time there are times when you find yourself thinking "Its nice to be able to just sit back alone and read a book."
I'm nodding off, everyone. My melatonin must be working because I'm quite tired. I'll continue tomorrow.
<3's
Fae Fae
Fried Chicken, "Taters", Corn & Biscuits...
Woke up this morning with a throbbing head and neck. I feel a sinus infection coming on. I also remembered that I forgot to cancel my check up with my doctor today. (Oops.) So this week sometime when I feel like being shuffled around on the phone I'll have to call to reschedule that. In the meantime, I'm busy at work strategizing and designing a plan for my Etsy shop. I am hoping maybe it will keep me busy as well as bring in a little extra income while Erik is deployed. Ew. I hate that word. It makes the my mouth feel heavy and thick. I need a nicer word for it...like "while Erik is away" or "while Erik is overseas." Yeah. That one sounds better. "While Erik is overseas..." makes it sound more like he is a businessman in a suit and tie carrying a briefcase and strolling around laughing and chatting with someone while discussing the weather and politics.
Don't laugh. Sometimes denial and pretending just helps.
Anyways, I washed dishes again. (Well that's not technically true, there is still a pan soaking so I'm not quite done yet, but I will be soon!) I wish I could tell you I did something else exciting, but really other than clicking and moving little things here and there and filling out information for shipping and finances and such on Etsy, my day hasn't been too terrible eventful.
Tonight I'm making dinner for John, Beth and Jonathon. You see, my family is really mostly from the South, so we love really good homemade, comfort foods and southern-style cooking. My brother, John, fell in love with Beth, who is from and living in Connecticut. Being the gentleman he is, he moved to her rather than asking her to come to Tennessee and so not only does he miss the food he grew up with, but Beth has also been introduced to all of our foods and traditions so she loves them to. Since Erik and I were just stationed at Fort Drum, New York in July, we now live much closer to John and Beth so my dear brother has decided that when I visit now I can make him food. Besides, I love to be in the kitchen so I happily oblige.
On the menu for the evening is fried chicken, mashed potatoes, (or "taters" as my mom calls them) corn & biscuits. I considered getting really energetic and making a pie, but I don't really want to monopolize Beth's kitchen for an entire evening.
It's hard to explain the feeling that being in the kitchen gives me. It's like I get in the zone and am completely alone and its just me and the task at hand. It's my form of meditation. It relaxes me completely and I feel at peace and comfortable. I could be having the absolute most terrible, stressful, hectic day and if I can come home and get into the kitchen and just cook then all that just seems to disappear and I'm left with a delicious meal to share.
It's a wonder everyone I know isn't fat.
Don't laugh. Sometimes denial and pretending just helps.
Anyways, I washed dishes again. (Well that's not technically true, there is still a pan soaking so I'm not quite done yet, but I will be soon!) I wish I could tell you I did something else exciting, but really other than clicking and moving little things here and there and filling out information for shipping and finances and such on Etsy, my day hasn't been too terrible eventful.
Tonight I'm making dinner for John, Beth and Jonathon. You see, my family is really mostly from the South, so we love really good homemade, comfort foods and southern-style cooking. My brother, John, fell in love with Beth, who is from and living in Connecticut. Being the gentleman he is, he moved to her rather than asking her to come to Tennessee and so not only does he miss the food he grew up with, but Beth has also been introduced to all of our foods and traditions so she loves them to. Since Erik and I were just stationed at Fort Drum, New York in July, we now live much closer to John and Beth so my dear brother has decided that when I visit now I can make him food. Besides, I love to be in the kitchen so I happily oblige.
On the menu for the evening is fried chicken, mashed potatoes, (or "taters" as my mom calls them) corn & biscuits. I considered getting really energetic and making a pie, but I don't really want to monopolize Beth's kitchen for an entire evening.
It's hard to explain the feeling that being in the kitchen gives me. It's like I get in the zone and am completely alone and its just me and the task at hand. It's my form of meditation. It relaxes me completely and I feel at peace and comfortable. I could be having the absolute most terrible, stressful, hectic day and if I can come home and get into the kitchen and just cook then all that just seems to disappear and I'm left with a delicious meal to share.
It's a wonder everyone I know isn't fat.
FYI: Bambi was a boy...
Today was mostly uneventful but enjoyable. As I believe I said before, I am visiting family for another week while Erik is at JRTC in Fort Polk, Louisiana. For those who don't know, JRTC is a sort of pre-deployment training where realistic scenes and scenarios are set up for the soldiers to live in for a set amount of time to experience and gain a feel for what they may encounter during a deployment.
Anyway, since he's gone I am back to my usual Erik-is-gone sleep pattern, which by the way, isn't much sleeping at all. It's more like me staying up until my eyes finally hurt from looking at the computer or television so long that I know if I go lay down I'll atleast have a chance of making myself sleep. Then after about an hour of lying in bed, sometimes with a good cry mingled in, I finally fall asleep then around 5:30 or 6:00 AM I wake up and have trouble making myself sleep the rest of the morning until I give in and start the day.
This morning "start the day" time was around 8. A whole lot of nothing happened until I retrieved my computer from downstairs to check my email. I logged on hoping to find a solution to the problem I had been having with logging into the virtual Family Readiness Group website. (vFRG) This site, as well as any connection with the FRG as an Army wife can be very helpful. (It can also be very dramatic and irritating, but that is another story.) However, if you can't access the webpage because it keeps insisting your husband doesn't exist, its helpfulness quickly comes into question.
A week and a day ago I sent an email to the administrator for aide as well as placing a call to my FRG key caller for assistance. She gave me a direct email to the admin versus continuing to through the site's issue reporting service. Well as of right now I've yet to get that issue solved. My key caller, Cassie, has been a doll. She's been very helpful and doing everything she can to make them help me and get with the program but I guess they simply don't care about the fact that I'm separated and inconvenienced because I'm inconveniencing them by needing help.
After my chat with Cassie, I decided to do dishes so that Beth wouldn't have to look at them when she got home from work. While doing them I remembered I wanted to ask my friend, Amber, if she would be so kind as to post a link to this blog on her blog to possibly drum up some readers. I'm hoping to get atleast a few readers here while I continue to work on my business project.
Which brings me to the rest of what I was doing today. I've been blowing up my Amazon wish list. I'm doing all the research and planning I can to make sure I really know exactly what I want to do. You see, my hope is to start a small business from home where I can offer my homemade confections, baked goods, gifts and goods for sale as well as offer myself a small events planner where in I can provide the goods for parties myself and also outsource to get what I can't make myself. I think if I take some time and plan it out and use Etsy as my starting place, I'll be better off and not encounter issues financially that I might without the help of Etsy. Maybe if things take off I can get Beth to make unique invitations and the like for the business. That would be nice.
Anyways, the day was mellow after that. We all had dinner together then played a board game. We played Disney Trivia 2. There was alot of picking on John, especially when we got to a question about the name of Bambi's girlfriend. John made the mistake of not knowing that Bambi was a boy and Beth and I simply could not take it. How dare he not know that Bambi was a boy! He had antlers at the end of the movie! I know that the whole dinner and board games thing sounds corny, but I live for that family stuff. Then we played a little Rock Band 2 together. I am completely willing to admit that I am terrible at Rock Band as well as Guitar Hero so playing with me is a play-at-your-own-risk situation. I do good on vocals aaaand that's it. lol
I'm glad I took this trip. Not being home alone let's me visit family but it also gives me a chance to escape the pity parties I give myself when Erik and I are separated. I still miss him constantly and keep tearing up, but atleast here someone is always right there to help distract me. Thank God for family.
Anyway, since he's gone I am back to my usual Erik-is-gone sleep pattern, which by the way, isn't much sleeping at all. It's more like me staying up until my eyes finally hurt from looking at the computer or television so long that I know if I go lay down I'll atleast have a chance of making myself sleep. Then after about an hour of lying in bed, sometimes with a good cry mingled in, I finally fall asleep then around 5:30 or 6:00 AM I wake up and have trouble making myself sleep the rest of the morning until I give in and start the day.
This morning "start the day" time was around 8. A whole lot of nothing happened until I retrieved my computer from downstairs to check my email. I logged on hoping to find a solution to the problem I had been having with logging into the virtual Family Readiness Group website. (vFRG) This site, as well as any connection with the FRG as an Army wife can be very helpful. (It can also be very dramatic and irritating, but that is another story.) However, if you can't access the webpage because it keeps insisting your husband doesn't exist, its helpfulness quickly comes into question.
A week and a day ago I sent an email to the administrator for aide as well as placing a call to my FRG key caller for assistance. She gave me a direct email to the admin versus continuing to through the site's issue reporting service. Well as of right now I've yet to get that issue solved. My key caller, Cassie, has been a doll. She's been very helpful and doing everything she can to make them help me and get with the program but I guess they simply don't care about the fact that I'm separated and inconvenienced because I'm inconveniencing them by needing help.
After my chat with Cassie, I decided to do dishes so that Beth wouldn't have to look at them when she got home from work. While doing them I remembered I wanted to ask my friend, Amber, if she would be so kind as to post a link to this blog on her blog to possibly drum up some readers. I'm hoping to get atleast a few readers here while I continue to work on my business project.
Which brings me to the rest of what I was doing today. I've been blowing up my Amazon wish list. I'm doing all the research and planning I can to make sure I really know exactly what I want to do. You see, my hope is to start a small business from home where I can offer my homemade confections, baked goods, gifts and goods for sale as well as offer myself a small events planner where in I can provide the goods for parties myself and also outsource to get what I can't make myself. I think if I take some time and plan it out and use Etsy as my starting place, I'll be better off and not encounter issues financially that I might without the help of Etsy. Maybe if things take off I can get Beth to make unique invitations and the like for the business. That would be nice.
Anyways, the day was mellow after that. We all had dinner together then played a board game. We played Disney Trivia 2. There was alot of picking on John, especially when we got to a question about the name of Bambi's girlfriend. John made the mistake of not knowing that Bambi was a boy and Beth and I simply could not take it. How dare he not know that Bambi was a boy! He had antlers at the end of the movie! I know that the whole dinner and board games thing sounds corny, but I live for that family stuff. Then we played a little Rock Band 2 together. I am completely willing to admit that I am terrible at Rock Band as well as Guitar Hero so playing with me is a play-at-your-own-risk situation. I do good on vocals aaaand that's it. lol
I'm glad I took this trip. Not being home alone let's me visit family but it also gives me a chance to escape the pity parties I give myself when Erik and I are separated. I still miss him constantly and keep tearing up, but atleast here someone is always right there to help distract me. Thank God for family.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Goats May Eat Garbage, But They Make Tasty Cheese...
Good evening! I'm still visiting my brother, John, and my soon-to-be sister-in-law, Beth. After a long day of shopping with Beth for her wedding dress and my bridesmaid dress we decided to stop off at a little local grocery store here to check it out. Turns out it is quite the diamond in the rough. A lot of gourmet and ethnic foods as well as a myriad of fresh produce including things that are a little more rare in the regular grocery stores. (Lychees, prickly pears, jicama, japanese cucumbers and infinitely more options.) I've never had goat cheese but always wanted to try it, so I bought a small piece and we came home and, after Beth's Let's Get Crafty class (definitely should check the link out, you can make your own custom cards so much cheaper than store bought and its so easy and they are gorgeous,) we made a cheese plate. I like the contrast of the sharp flavor with the creaminess. Its also tasty with the huge grapes we picked up from the market as well. Now that I've gabbed a bit about my day, I'll get back into the background story. Now it's time for how I became an Army wife.
Erik had always desired to be a fireman, police officer or an EMT. Pretty much, he wanted to help people and make a difference. To be any of those things you must be 21. When Erik and I met, he was 19. That meant nearly two more years before he could even begin training to achieve any of those goals. We were both working (myself at a popular ice cream franchise and Erik at an even-more-popular superstore) and it was unfulfilling for both of us. I liked my job, but my hours sucked and the people I worked with were sad excuses for human beings, let alone coworkers. Erik felt like working his job wasn't getting him anywhere but didn't know what else to do.
Well. We happened to live in Clarksville, Tennessee, which is right outside the gates of Fort Campbell, Kentucky, home of the 101st Airborne Division. (Screaming Eagles, HOOAH!) And of course, I happened to come from a military family. My dad is retired military. My grandpa is retired military. My cousins are all in the military. My best friend is a military wife. After seeing how all these peoples' lives were effected by the military (and after a lot of talks, considerations, and prayer) Erik approached me with this. I was very torn, to be honest. I love and support the military with my whole heart, but at the same time growing up in Clarksville and especially seeing the things my best friend, Heather, had gone through with deployments I was a little more than terrified. Not too mention I remembered what it had felt like when Erik had to go back to California and all I could see was him leaving over and over and over. But I also saw the benefits. Erik would be doing something to train now instead of waiting two years. He would be helping people and making a difference like he wanted to. Erik saw more than that though. Erik saw a way to provide for us. A way to ensure we head healthcare, a steady income, housing and with his GI Bill and bonus college fund I'd be able to finish school and he could further his education while in the Army.
Erik, my mom, my dad and myself all went to the recruiter together. Erik went for obvious reasons. I went to support him and to learn anything I could. Dad went to filter through the BS that we knew the recruiter would feed us. Mom came as moral support and additional filtering. We started the process but hit a snag. Erik's measurements and weight didn't meet requirements. His large build allowed for a heavier weight, but not as heavy as what he was at the time. (Hey, what can I say? I know how to cook.)
I could tell how much he felt like he let us down. I didn't want him to feel like that. He felt trapped again.
Then out of nowhere, a spur of the moment decision after the wedding: My step-dad, Burt, offered Erik a job. If we moved to Kansas, we could stay with them until we could get our own place. Meanwhile, Erik could work as a construction laborer for the company Burt worked for and the work would help him lose weight and provide a better income for us in a lower cost-of-living area. We packed up and moved 2 days later.
To skip a great deal of unnecessary details here, Erik worked and Erik worked out and got down to the required measurements and enlisted. He enlisted as a 68W, which is code for Combat Medic, and then we played the waiting game. You see, with the lovely recession that we were in, and as I type now still are, meant that everyone who wanted stability enlisted, so there was quite a wait for certain jobs in the military, and apparently every bonehead with a box of Band-Aids thought they'd give it a go. Guess what? A lot of those guys were in the class before Erik's and they're now specializing as the Army's "Water Treatment Specialists" and "Laundry Specialist."
Anyway, in the mean time we both worked and lived and inside I dreaded the day Erik would leave for Basic Training because I knew it would mean little-to-no contact for a minimum of nine weeks.
The last month he left I was constantly on edge, we argued more because I was overemotional and would snap at him and take my being sad and upset out on him in anger instead of just being honest and saying "Erik, I'm going to miss you and I love you and I just don't know how to handle what I am feeling."
Finally I got that out and things went back to normal. Erik and I spent a great deal of time together just sitting on our couch with the TV on and holding each other or lying in bed and talking. It was important to us both to make sure we were fully open with what we were feeling and just spending time together made everything seem less like a long goodbye.
Finally the morning came. I held my composure as we packed the last of his things and check the list three times. I kept it in while his recruiter arrived early, but when I hugged his neck and he picked me up and kissed me and hugged me, I lost it. My best friend was leaving and our lives were changing. He was off to better himself and our lives and I was staying to hold down the fort and be his strength and supporter. I was an Army wife from that second forward, and I was sending him off for what would be the first of many times. I cried and kissed him and hugged him over and over until I knew I had to let him go. Our lives changed forever. I don't regret it. Never have and never will.
Erik had always desired to be a fireman, police officer or an EMT. Pretty much, he wanted to help people and make a difference. To be any of those things you must be 21. When Erik and I met, he was 19. That meant nearly two more years before he could even begin training to achieve any of those goals. We were both working (myself at a popular ice cream franchise and Erik at an even-more-popular superstore) and it was unfulfilling for both of us. I liked my job, but my hours sucked and the people I worked with were sad excuses for human beings, let alone coworkers. Erik felt like working his job wasn't getting him anywhere but didn't know what else to do.
Well. We happened to live in Clarksville, Tennessee, which is right outside the gates of Fort Campbell, Kentucky, home of the 101st Airborne Division. (Screaming Eagles, HOOAH!) And of course, I happened to come from a military family. My dad is retired military. My grandpa is retired military. My cousins are all in the military. My best friend is a military wife. After seeing how all these peoples' lives were effected by the military (and after a lot of talks, considerations, and prayer) Erik approached me with this. I was very torn, to be honest. I love and support the military with my whole heart, but at the same time growing up in Clarksville and especially seeing the things my best friend, Heather, had gone through with deployments I was a little more than terrified. Not too mention I remembered what it had felt like when Erik had to go back to California and all I could see was him leaving over and over and over. But I also saw the benefits. Erik would be doing something to train now instead of waiting two years. He would be helping people and making a difference like he wanted to. Erik saw more than that though. Erik saw a way to provide for us. A way to ensure we head healthcare, a steady income, housing and with his GI Bill and bonus college fund I'd be able to finish school and he could further his education while in the Army.
Erik, my mom, my dad and myself all went to the recruiter together. Erik went for obvious reasons. I went to support him and to learn anything I could. Dad went to filter through the BS that we knew the recruiter would feed us. Mom came as moral support and additional filtering. We started the process but hit a snag. Erik's measurements and weight didn't meet requirements. His large build allowed for a heavier weight, but not as heavy as what he was at the time. (Hey, what can I say? I know how to cook.)
I could tell how much he felt like he let us down. I didn't want him to feel like that. He felt trapped again.
Then out of nowhere, a spur of the moment decision after the wedding: My step-dad, Burt, offered Erik a job. If we moved to Kansas, we could stay with them until we could get our own place. Meanwhile, Erik could work as a construction laborer for the company Burt worked for and the work would help him lose weight and provide a better income for us in a lower cost-of-living area. We packed up and moved 2 days later.
To skip a great deal of unnecessary details here, Erik worked and Erik worked out and got down to the required measurements and enlisted. He enlisted as a 68W, which is code for Combat Medic, and then we played the waiting game. You see, with the lovely recession that we were in, and as I type now still are, meant that everyone who wanted stability enlisted, so there was quite a wait for certain jobs in the military, and apparently every bonehead with a box of Band-Aids thought they'd give it a go. Guess what? A lot of those guys were in the class before Erik's and they're now specializing as the Army's "Water Treatment Specialists" and "Laundry Specialist."
Anyway, in the mean time we both worked and lived and inside I dreaded the day Erik would leave for Basic Training because I knew it would mean little-to-no contact for a minimum of nine weeks.
The last month he left I was constantly on edge, we argued more because I was overemotional and would snap at him and take my being sad and upset out on him in anger instead of just being honest and saying "Erik, I'm going to miss you and I love you and I just don't know how to handle what I am feeling."
Finally I got that out and things went back to normal. Erik and I spent a great deal of time together just sitting on our couch with the TV on and holding each other or lying in bed and talking. It was important to us both to make sure we were fully open with what we were feeling and just spending time together made everything seem less like a long goodbye.
Finally the morning came. I held my composure as we packed the last of his things and check the list three times. I kept it in while his recruiter arrived early, but when I hugged his neck and he picked me up and kissed me and hugged me, I lost it. My best friend was leaving and our lives were changing. He was off to better himself and our lives and I was staying to hold down the fort and be his strength and supporter. I was an Army wife from that second forward, and I was sending him off for what would be the first of many times. I cried and kissed him and hugged him over and over until I knew I had to let him go. Our lives changed forever. I don't regret it. Never have and never will.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
The Saga Continues...
Alright, let's see where I left off. (FYI: I'm posting this while competing on Operation Stand By Me for freebie prizes, so I imagine this post will take me a minimum of an hour to actually get published. Ha! Multitasking is fun.)
After the 18 hours of chatting, Erik and I decided we probably ought to sleep and, since we didn't want to seem to anxious to talk again, we casually mentioned that maybe we'd be on again in a few hours and perhaps we'd message one another.
After an hour of thinking about him, I forced myself to sleep for a couple of hours then woke up and debated for another whether or not to log on and see if he might be online again. I decided to go ahead and log in and within about 5 seconds of being logged in, my game announced that Erik had signed on. I felt my heart skip a beat and I decided not to mention him. Why message him and risk looking like a nut who was waiting for him to sign on? Besides, what if last night had just been a one-time thing? The pink text popped up at the bottom of my screen to show he had messaged me and I let out a sigh of relief and felt myself blushing. Immediately we dove into another all-night conversation. I wish I could tell you everything we talked about, but one thing I always remember clearly is that around midnight that second night Erik asked me what my real name was because he knew it wasn't Fae. We were voice chatting as well as text chatting by this point so I told him I'd type it and he could guess how to say it. My name is Lethia, so it isn't often people pronounce it correctly. He looked at it and I heard silence in the headphones for a second then he started guessing how to say it. It was adorable and he was trying, but it was wrong, wrong and wrong again. As I sat smiling and listened to his laughs as he tried, I typed it as it sounds for him in chat: Lee-thuh. A short silence in my headphones followed, and then I heard him say my name for the first time. It was the strangest feeling I had ever felt. I felt flutters and a wave of heat from head to toe and I had this thought hit me that if he were the only person to ever say my name again I'd be completely satisfied. He said it again. And again. He kept saying it over and over and this dreamy tone hit his voice. I think we both melted into our headphones for the rest of the night and the early morning.
These talks continued for about two weeks and it sort of hit us one night that we were developing serious feelings for each other and seriously fast. We finally laid everything out in the open about what we were feeling and it was decided we had to meet and see if it was all the same in person. (We both knew it would be, but we met online so you never know what will happen and besides your family always looks at you like you've gone batty when you mention an online relationship.) Regardless, skipping ahead to spare any readers a headache of continuing to delve into great detail you all may not want to hear about, Erik flew from California to Tennessee to meet myself and my family for the holidays. He spent a little over 2 weeks with us and, as unbelievable as it may sound, we immediately clicked in person. It felt as if we'd known each other forever, always been friends and naturally began dating. He met my family and fit in like he'd always been around us. When he proposed to me after only spending 5 days together, it didn't feel like it had only been 5 days and my answer was an immediate and resounding "Yes!" He went to my cousin's wedding with me, spent Christmas and New Year's with me, and then we realized it was time for him to leave. Taking Erik to the airport, watching him walk past security and then seeing him fade into the mob of the security line was the first time I realized how much it would hurt to never see him again. It felt like someone was taking my heart and putting it on a plane and leaving me to die in front of the baggage check.
I cried all the way home. My best friend, Heather, had driven because she had known it would be hard for me and she took me for a greasy disgusting cheeseburger and fries. (Which I ate until I threw up then laid in my bed and bawled like a baby. It was pretty cheesy-teen-romance-movie-esque of me, but it was truly how horrible I felt.) When he called to let me know he landed, I heard the choked up voice on the other end of the phone and lost it. I didn't make it more than a few weeks before I felt lifeless and empty. We were so unsure when we'd be able to afford to see each other again. I had the money but we knew we should save for being together and getting married, but logic seemed so unnecessary and just being together made more sense. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. I bought a ticket and left the next day. I spent a week with Erik and it seemed like it all blew by in a moment. When Thursday morning came, I woke up with his arms hugged around me and tears in his eyes.
"I can't do it. I can not make the same mistake twice and let us be separated again. I'm not taking you to the airport."
I cried. (You'll figure out if you actually keep reading this that past the sarcastic bitch facade, I am actually a very emotional person.) I hugged him tight. We didn't know what we were going to do, but we knew we weren't going to be separated again. Period.
After a lot of calls to our parents, to our friends, to my sister, we worked out a plan to get in Erik's car and make the cross country drive from California to Tennessee, stopping off in Kansas for a day or two to rest and visit with my biological mother, step-father & little sister.
We took his car to the shop to get a safety inspection, had them check it from headlight to tail light, oil change and tune up. We loaded the car with drinks, luggage, a few groceries and blankets then set out Friday morning.
We made it exactly 99 miles from Erik's dad's apartment when suddenly the car went out of control and nearly flipped as it rode up the embankment on the side of the road. I had just nodded off when I felt Erik's arm across my chest holding me back from the dashboard and saw the car flying up the embankment. When it finally stopped, Erik jumped out and ran to get me out of the car. I was shaking and in a state of shock trying to figure out what had happened. Erik held me until I composed myself then we went to examine the car. It turns out that the tie-rod end on the driver's side front had snapped. The tire was almost completely off and the metal was twisted under the car that was almost on its side.
Erik reached back into the car for my purse, our phones and began calling his dad and AAA while I spoke with the woman who was kind enough to let us sit in her van while we waited. (It was still very early and cold in the desert.) When the tow-truck arrived we thanked her and as we road back to his dad's apartment we brainstormed. What were we going to do now?
Thank God for family. A pooling of cash from my family and what Erik and I already had got us enough to get from California to Tennessee on a plane. We left the next morning early. When we got to Tennessee and my mom and dad were there to get us, it was like all the pieces had fallen into place for us. A little struggle had led to a greater reward. We were together and happy.
April 11, 2009 I became Mrs. Erik Bessey. Truly the best day of my life. I married my best friend in a small ceremony in my sister's backyard in her garden under her gazebo. We ate hamburgers and hot dogs with our sparkling wine and wedding cake, then we met my biological mom, Sam, and my little sister, Amanda, for dinner because I hadn't seen them in years and wanted Erik to meet them. We had a nice dinner and then headed to our hotel and spent 2 nights there. It was unbelievable to me the difference that comes with making love as a married woman. Maybe its the security and comfort of knowing "this is my forever man" or maybe it makes you feel free to experiment and be more open, but we both acknowledged the difference. (And still do, might I add for all you people saying that it will end in a year.)
Now that is how I came to be the wife, perhaps tomorrow I can delve into how I became the army wife and finally housewife. :)
Goodnight and <3s.
Fae
After the 18 hours of chatting, Erik and I decided we probably ought to sleep and, since we didn't want to seem to anxious to talk again, we casually mentioned that maybe we'd be on again in a few hours and perhaps we'd message one another.
After an hour of thinking about him, I forced myself to sleep for a couple of hours then woke up and debated for another whether or not to log on and see if he might be online again. I decided to go ahead and log in and within about 5 seconds of being logged in, my game announced that Erik had signed on. I felt my heart skip a beat and I decided not to mention him. Why message him and risk looking like a nut who was waiting for him to sign on? Besides, what if last night had just been a one-time thing? The pink text popped up at the bottom of my screen to show he had messaged me and I let out a sigh of relief and felt myself blushing. Immediately we dove into another all-night conversation. I wish I could tell you everything we talked about, but one thing I always remember clearly is that around midnight that second night Erik asked me what my real name was because he knew it wasn't Fae. We were voice chatting as well as text chatting by this point so I told him I'd type it and he could guess how to say it. My name is Lethia, so it isn't often people pronounce it correctly. He looked at it and I heard silence in the headphones for a second then he started guessing how to say it. It was adorable and he was trying, but it was wrong, wrong and wrong again. As I sat smiling and listened to his laughs as he tried, I typed it as it sounds for him in chat: Lee-thuh. A short silence in my headphones followed, and then I heard him say my name for the first time. It was the strangest feeling I had ever felt. I felt flutters and a wave of heat from head to toe and I had this thought hit me that if he were the only person to ever say my name again I'd be completely satisfied. He said it again. And again. He kept saying it over and over and this dreamy tone hit his voice. I think we both melted into our headphones for the rest of the night and the early morning.
These talks continued for about two weeks and it sort of hit us one night that we were developing serious feelings for each other and seriously fast. We finally laid everything out in the open about what we were feeling and it was decided we had to meet and see if it was all the same in person. (We both knew it would be, but we met online so you never know what will happen and besides your family always looks at you like you've gone batty when you mention an online relationship.) Regardless, skipping ahead to spare any readers a headache of continuing to delve into great detail you all may not want to hear about, Erik flew from California to Tennessee to meet myself and my family for the holidays. He spent a little over 2 weeks with us and, as unbelievable as it may sound, we immediately clicked in person. It felt as if we'd known each other forever, always been friends and naturally began dating. He met my family and fit in like he'd always been around us. When he proposed to me after only spending 5 days together, it didn't feel like it had only been 5 days and my answer was an immediate and resounding "Yes!" He went to my cousin's wedding with me, spent Christmas and New Year's with me, and then we realized it was time for him to leave. Taking Erik to the airport, watching him walk past security and then seeing him fade into the mob of the security line was the first time I realized how much it would hurt to never see him again. It felt like someone was taking my heart and putting it on a plane and leaving me to die in front of the baggage check.
I cried all the way home. My best friend, Heather, had driven because she had known it would be hard for me and she took me for a greasy disgusting cheeseburger and fries. (Which I ate until I threw up then laid in my bed and bawled like a baby. It was pretty cheesy-teen-romance-movie-esque of me, but it was truly how horrible I felt.) When he called to let me know he landed, I heard the choked up voice on the other end of the phone and lost it. I didn't make it more than a few weeks before I felt lifeless and empty. We were so unsure when we'd be able to afford to see each other again. I had the money but we knew we should save for being together and getting married, but logic seemed so unnecessary and just being together made more sense. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. I bought a ticket and left the next day. I spent a week with Erik and it seemed like it all blew by in a moment. When Thursday morning came, I woke up with his arms hugged around me and tears in his eyes.
"I can't do it. I can not make the same mistake twice and let us be separated again. I'm not taking you to the airport."
I cried. (You'll figure out if you actually keep reading this that past the sarcastic bitch facade, I am actually a very emotional person.) I hugged him tight. We didn't know what we were going to do, but we knew we weren't going to be separated again. Period.
After a lot of calls to our parents, to our friends, to my sister, we worked out a plan to get in Erik's car and make the cross country drive from California to Tennessee, stopping off in Kansas for a day or two to rest and visit with my biological mother, step-father & little sister.
We took his car to the shop to get a safety inspection, had them check it from headlight to tail light, oil change and tune up. We loaded the car with drinks, luggage, a few groceries and blankets then set out Friday morning.
We made it exactly 99 miles from Erik's dad's apartment when suddenly the car went out of control and nearly flipped as it rode up the embankment on the side of the road. I had just nodded off when I felt Erik's arm across my chest holding me back from the dashboard and saw the car flying up the embankment. When it finally stopped, Erik jumped out and ran to get me out of the car. I was shaking and in a state of shock trying to figure out what had happened. Erik held me until I composed myself then we went to examine the car. It turns out that the tie-rod end on the driver's side front had snapped. The tire was almost completely off and the metal was twisted under the car that was almost on its side.
Erik reached back into the car for my purse, our phones and began calling his dad and AAA while I spoke with the woman who was kind enough to let us sit in her van while we waited. (It was still very early and cold in the desert.) When the tow-truck arrived we thanked her and as we road back to his dad's apartment we brainstormed. What were we going to do now?
Thank God for family. A pooling of cash from my family and what Erik and I already had got us enough to get from California to Tennessee on a plane. We left the next morning early. When we got to Tennessee and my mom and dad were there to get us, it was like all the pieces had fallen into place for us. A little struggle had led to a greater reward. We were together and happy.
April 11, 2009 I became Mrs. Erik Bessey. Truly the best day of my life. I married my best friend in a small ceremony in my sister's backyard in her garden under her gazebo. We ate hamburgers and hot dogs with our sparkling wine and wedding cake, then we met my biological mom, Sam, and my little sister, Amanda, for dinner because I hadn't seen them in years and wanted Erik to meet them. We had a nice dinner and then headed to our hotel and spent 2 nights there. It was unbelievable to me the difference that comes with making love as a married woman. Maybe its the security and comfort of knowing "this is my forever man" or maybe it makes you feel free to experiment and be more open, but we both acknowledged the difference. (And still do, might I add for all you people saying that it will end in a year.)
Now that is how I came to be the wife, perhaps tomorrow I can delve into how I became the army wife and finally housewife. :)
Goodnight and <3s.
Fae
My Kingdom for A Chick-Fil-A...
I decided this morning at about 2:00 AM (0200), while posting on my Facebook about my craving for Chick-Fil-A, that I'd go ahead and finally make this blog. I'd been considering it for a while, but in the past I've never been able to stick with these things. I always find them a little pretentious and egotistical. ("Why would anyone want to read about you all day, Fae?") And, in the past, I've had a nasty habit of posting for about a month and then stopping completely. (Which doesn't go well, by the way, when you forget your log-in information and blogspot is so kind as to adamantly insist to NOT help you retrieve said information. Thanks for that, by the way.)
Anyway. Moving back to the topic at hand, my intention with this blog is to catalog my (mis)adventures in my life of my leaps and strides at making my life what I would like it to be.
I started watching I Love Lucy when I was 3 or 4. The old reruns would come on every night while I was lying in bed and I always thought that she was so funny. As I got older I continued watching and was not only amused by Lucille Ball's ridiculous antics, but admired her as well. Even in her scheming, she was an adoring and loving wife and mother and took care of her household but still did so looking elegant and it painted a grand picture of the time. As I continued to delve into movies and television shows about the era I became entranced by the way women of the time took pride in their homes and families. The idea of staying at home, cleaning, cooking, child-rearing and still being there for your man at the end of the day was so incredibly admirable to me that I would dream of my life someday emulating those shows.
Well, the world we live in today isn't quite the same world of the 1950's. Things have changed quite a bit and people don't necessarily hold to the same values or social codes of that time, which is fine, by all means do your own thing, but for me it was still very important to find someone who would understand and share the same values that I held dear.
Boy, did I luck out. I got the sarcastic, mouthy, smart-alek with the biggest heart (though he'd never let you know that) that also happened to want the same lifestyle. Erik is my best friend. We can argue with each other to joke and release frustrations of our day, then just hold each other and know that everything in the world doesn't matter when we're together in that moment.
Okay, okay. Stop gagging.
Neither Erik or I came from traditional families, so don't think that we come from that sort of family and so we want the same. I think the opposite. I think the dysfunction and the differentials are what made us want "normality" (whatever that is) and tradition.
My family is comprised of two families brought together much like the Brady Bunch, with even more kids, believe it or not, and no Alice. Bummer. My dad was married before and brought 3 girls to the family, and my mom was married before as well and brought her 2 boys and 2 girls. I came along much later, but its late and that's a long story that I'll jump into another day. Regardless, after witnessing all of my adult siblings' relationships horrors, I feared marriage because in my mind marriage meant divorce.
Erik's family was pretty normal. It comprised of his parents, his brother and himself. Sometime in his teens, his parents divorced and the effects of the divorce on him made him desire a traditional family life more yet fear the same hurt his parents had experienced.
After our own separate relationships failures, we had both come to a decision that we'd never find love and it was easier to go through life without giving your heart and just giving what you needed to get the attention and affection and gratification of the moment then move on. About two weeks later, we met each other.
Now here's a silly, random, dorky story: Erik and I both play the massively multiplayer online role-playing game (here-to referred to as mmorpg) World of Warcraft (or WoW for short.) Six months prior to our separate "hit-it-and-quit-it" oaths to ourselves, we had encountered one another in the game and spoken occasionally. Mostly these conversations were to harass one another. Then Erik stopped playing for a while and since we had only casually spoken anyway, I wasn't concerned. Now, back to two weeks after our oaths to ourselves, I am playing WoW and a friend of mine asks me to go to a raid. (A raid is where, in the game, a set number of players enters a portion of the game separated from other players with the goal to defeat certain bosses and receive loot as a reward.) I resisted for about 20 minutes but finally relented and agreed to go. When I entered the raid, I found that we were awaiting another of his friends to enter. I made a snarky comment about not even wanting to go to the raid and the friend owing me one for it, then heard another voice make a similar comment just as the last player joined the raid. To make an already long story short, after sarcastic remarks to one another throughout the hour-long raid, the sarcastic friend of my friend and I continued to talk afterward and late into the night. We realized around 10:00 AM (1000) that we had been speaking almost 18 hours and needed to sleep. The 18 hours was a mass of deep conversation that, when I thought back on it, I could not seem to comprehend. I had talked with a stranger about things I had not even told my best friend or family. I had given personal information that not even some of my most trusted WoW friends knew, but I felt so comfortable talking to Erik that it felt right. (I knew his name by this point, by the way. He still knew me only as Fae. Until the next night, that is.) I'll end this one here because it's almost 3:30 AM (0330) and I want to make sure I don't write a book as my first post. lol
I'll pick up where I left off tomorrow. <3s for now.
Fae.
Anyway. Moving back to the topic at hand, my intention with this blog is to catalog my (mis)adventures in my life of my leaps and strides at making my life what I would like it to be.
I started watching I Love Lucy when I was 3 or 4. The old reruns would come on every night while I was lying in bed and I always thought that she was so funny. As I got older I continued watching and was not only amused by Lucille Ball's ridiculous antics, but admired her as well. Even in her scheming, she was an adoring and loving wife and mother and took care of her household but still did so looking elegant and it painted a grand picture of the time. As I continued to delve into movies and television shows about the era I became entranced by the way women of the time took pride in their homes and families. The idea of staying at home, cleaning, cooking, child-rearing and still being there for your man at the end of the day was so incredibly admirable to me that I would dream of my life someday emulating those shows.
Well, the world we live in today isn't quite the same world of the 1950's. Things have changed quite a bit and people don't necessarily hold to the same values or social codes of that time, which is fine, by all means do your own thing, but for me it was still very important to find someone who would understand and share the same values that I held dear.
Boy, did I luck out. I got the sarcastic, mouthy, smart-alek with the biggest heart (though he'd never let you know that) that also happened to want the same lifestyle. Erik is my best friend. We can argue with each other to joke and release frustrations of our day, then just hold each other and know that everything in the world doesn't matter when we're together in that moment.
Okay, okay. Stop gagging.
Neither Erik or I came from traditional families, so don't think that we come from that sort of family and so we want the same. I think the opposite. I think the dysfunction and the differentials are what made us want "normality" (whatever that is) and tradition.
My family is comprised of two families brought together much like the Brady Bunch, with even more kids, believe it or not, and no Alice. Bummer. My dad was married before and brought 3 girls to the family, and my mom was married before as well and brought her 2 boys and 2 girls. I came along much later, but its late and that's a long story that I'll jump into another day. Regardless, after witnessing all of my adult siblings' relationships horrors, I feared marriage because in my mind marriage meant divorce.
Erik's family was pretty normal. It comprised of his parents, his brother and himself. Sometime in his teens, his parents divorced and the effects of the divorce on him made him desire a traditional family life more yet fear the same hurt his parents had experienced.
After our own separate relationships failures, we had both come to a decision that we'd never find love and it was easier to go through life without giving your heart and just giving what you needed to get the attention and affection and gratification of the moment then move on. About two weeks later, we met each other.
Now here's a silly, random, dorky story: Erik and I both play the massively multiplayer online role-playing game (here-to referred to as mmorpg) World of Warcraft (or WoW for short.) Six months prior to our separate "hit-it-and-quit-it" oaths to ourselves, we had encountered one another in the game and spoken occasionally. Mostly these conversations were to harass one another. Then Erik stopped playing for a while and since we had only casually spoken anyway, I wasn't concerned. Now, back to two weeks after our oaths to ourselves, I am playing WoW and a friend of mine asks me to go to a raid. (A raid is where, in the game, a set number of players enters a portion of the game separated from other players with the goal to defeat certain bosses and receive loot as a reward.) I resisted for about 20 minutes but finally relented and agreed to go. When I entered the raid, I found that we were awaiting another of his friends to enter. I made a snarky comment about not even wanting to go to the raid and the friend owing me one for it, then heard another voice make a similar comment just as the last player joined the raid. To make an already long story short, after sarcastic remarks to one another throughout the hour-long raid, the sarcastic friend of my friend and I continued to talk afterward and late into the night. We realized around 10:00 AM (1000) that we had been speaking almost 18 hours and needed to sleep. The 18 hours was a mass of deep conversation that, when I thought back on it, I could not seem to comprehend. I had talked with a stranger about things I had not even told my best friend or family. I had given personal information that not even some of my most trusted WoW friends knew, but I felt so comfortable talking to Erik that it felt right. (I knew his name by this point, by the way. He still knew me only as Fae. Until the next night, that is.) I'll end this one here because it's almost 3:30 AM (0330) and I want to make sure I don't write a book as my first post. lol
I'll pick up where I left off tomorrow. <3s for now.
Fae.
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