RTT: Letters Are Dead; And So Is Conversation

Because you know, the internet killed them. Just sayin'...

Okay I'm doing this new thing, because I'm already so random people can rarely follow my thought process in any way, called Random Tuesday Thoughts. Enjoy the link, you're very rude.

So I woke up and my back still felt like it's trying to ask for a new mattress through pain. I'm 23, not 43, and I feel like writing a letter to someone just because I'm laying on the floor. It's cold down here; I'm not happy about it.

Munchface was so excited about Lucky Charms and The Princess and The Frog this morning that she almost brought the roof down screaming out the window at the people cutting grass "OHMYGODIT'SAFWOGGIEONTHET.VANDMOMMASAIDI'MHERPINCESSSSSSSSSSS!"

Which, yes, we think it's hilarious when she says "princess" so we tell her she's Daddy's and Mommy's and Gramma's and that random person running on the other side of the lake's "pinCessssssss". But this morning, while my coffee was still brewing, my back was aching like a geriatric, and I hadn't completed my morning routine, she wasn't a princess, she was Satan's child. As she jumped up and down and danced around, I lost my nerve to scold her for screaming like she was getting beat up by the Gnomes, however, because it was so damn cute. I miss the simple joys of childhood.

I got an e-mail from my high school pen-pal. DUDE! PEN fucking PAL. You write LETTERS - not e-mails. I miss letters and cards and written sentiments to save forever. I miss seeing handwriting and beautiful or interesting stationery. I also actually miss phone calls. I prefer human interaction over e-mails and text messages, no matter how awkward it gets for me - that kept me grounded and always finding ways to adapt. Yes, I'm a socially awkward freak unless you put a drink in my hand and some good music in the background. Yes, I'm weird and most people find me extremely difficult to understand when I start prattling on about this and that. Learning to get along with people and communicating on a primitive level is good for me. It's good for you, too, so do it, dammit! 

Husband started out-processing today... insert sad face that quickly turns to a happy sigh of relief. I am going to miss my glorious Bull-DAWG nation (a.k.a Georgia) but at the same time, it's time for a change. We're headed for the dirty south... Louisiana. Yuck.

-- but anyhow! (see, there I go getting off-topic again - do try to follow)

The Housing people reminded us that we need to hire cleaners. I called Husband and told him to make sure that they knew I wasn't paying to hire someone to clean this damn house. I clean it ALL the time, every day, and if that's not good enough for them, they can pay for it.

The doors and window weren't sealed properly so every day I'm cleaning up a multitude of bugs and random particulates from the great outdoors off of everything. It's actually pretty disgusting since I have small person running around. Here, enjoy this picture of what happens when I don't dust for just two days --

my window - two days; just two days...

the corner next to the window (sans random big yellow spot)

So you can clearly see why I feel like I've done enough. They refuse to fix every problem from the busted door that floods my dining room every time it rains like it's trying to convince me to make an Ark for two of each bug, to the leaky roof that stained the floor and ceiling that they want me to pay for... oh well.

I'm on to another subject again...

Munchface told me yesterday that she was going to go to work for Husband and I decided to take a picture of it:

cue the "aww" and stuff...

My plants are starting to make me depressed. I saved them from our last house, where they were going to be demolished, and they've flourished from near dead tiny things, to big huge elephant ears - I can't save them this time. I'm going to miss them..

So my neighbor offered me $1700 for my mixer again. I tried to tell her she could offer me $10k for it and I'd still say no, but no one ever listens to me. I'm just going to stop answering the door. Munchface tells her she smells all the time - I don't get mad at her. That should tell you something.

I lost my favourite shirt. I'm sad about that. I had to wear something random today, which fits the topic of the blog, but not my mood. I look like zebra. My only belt is zebra print, my sunglasses are zebra, and now my shirt. I have a thing for zebra print, and I love it, but I didn't realize how ridiculous I looked until I walked by the mirror.

I just told Munchface not to be ugly (she was screaming about some outside toy she wanted to bring in the house) and she looked at me with her lazer beam ninja death eyes and said "but Momma, I petty pincess, I not ugee!" and walked away.

I was just pwnd.

I want to know how a silverfish got on my ceiling; also why it decided to drop onto my head. Un-cool.

And now for the end of my blahrghhhhhhh...

enjoy the squish face-

I Feel: The Need To Share Stupid Things With You

As Husband likes to scream randomly and for no apparent reason - I feel.

Like crap. I don't know if the insomnia, allergies, heat/chill, excursion into public, or general lack of motivation is to blame. I'm starting to believe it's leaving the comfort of my non-socially awkward home that makes me feel like I'm scraping the bottom of the "living and breathing" barrel for days after the trek.




Munchface fell asleep on me today and I couldn't get up and start doing things around the house for fear of waking her, so I slept right along with her.




Bad idea.




I woke up with a strong urge to put the baby gate up in front of her door and leave a snack and a movie rolling so I could go back to sleep. Needless to say, I sat there until I was awake enough to help her down the stairs - while she sat there and played bongo drums on my head. I think she was trying to recreate taps or something as they blared through the window. I just laid there, still and hoping she'd magically fall back and sleep another 12 hours. Didn't happen...

General Dudeman invited Husband to a pin-on ceremony today. Awesome? Yes. Uncool at the same time? Roger. With a little over a month before we're officially a civilian family again, ready to assimilate to the non-military life outside of base confines, we have to buy new Dress Blues. Lame. Military uniforms are basically priced the same way as necessary medications and college textbooks. Ridiculously expensive for no apparent reason other than "we know you need these, so we know you'll pay this asinine amount of money for them".

Not exactly fun for us. Hey, military, if you want us to pay half a paycheck for uniforms when needed - pay better.

Husband came home today after buying said items and was all "Hey! My girls are awake. Woman, baby-thing, how was your day? I'm super hyper, super excited, and super ready to get on your nerves with my chipper demeanor!".

Not really the second part of that, but the first did get on my last nerve. When I'm not chipper and in a pleasant disposition, I don't want you to be either. I want you to recognize the signs of my exhaustion and extreme "blah-ness", and back off. Munchface was extremely happy to see him, and was eager to reciprocate his enthusiasm with equal parts of her own, however, which was a good thing; At least he brought an offering of Red Bull and bottled water.

I read today via military.com that The Air Force has decided to extend deployment times from 120 days to 179 days. Exactly one day short of an achievement medal - which is well deserved after the utter bullshit they have to go through. I for one am extremely displeased, and have already drafted yet another extremely upset letter to my state government. How can you sit there and cheat people who are already spending time away from their family and friends out of something they deserve - by one day? Makes me more thankful that I'm about to join the civilian ranks. They're so determined to screw people at every turn that they're ruining the quality of Airmen they keep in. They're alienating wonderful Airmen like Husband, and keeping in crap-tastic ones that don't care about their job - at all.

Husband is getting forced out, but at the same time, not. We're both extremely happy the MEB didn't correctly review his case file because it means freedom for us.

I kind of secretly hope there's a coup, and the upper echelons of the Air Force are usurped from their positions. There also needs to be a competent president from a military background to make decisions, but I'll save that for another day.




I just had a cookie hurled at my forehead, with deadly accuracy. Munchface is going to be a ninja sniper prodigy at the rate she's going. Special Ops, look out.