Butcher

As you may have, by this time, read my previous entry regarding the horrible day I had, and the "Bad Haircut" my husband got at the hands of the new girl, (aka, the german mane mangler,) I am putting up this photo I took of the top of his head while he was eating peanut butter crackers tonight. I should note, that when looking at him normally- in the face- it doesn't look quite this... obvious... Then again, I am 5'7", and he is 6'0", so I almost never see him from the top of his head. With the miracle of modern digital technology- you can.
And yes... he PAID for this.
At least he will be cool this summer on those sweltering humid days.

Stupid Cat

This is Loki... He was named for the Norse god of mischief.

He's kind of stupid.
We took this picture as he was laying on my table- which he thinks he owns. He, as naturally he would, hates baths. He screams like a little girl when he is in the tub. Standing outside the door you would think I was attacking him with an Epilady.
Right now he is done eating. I know he is done eating because I can hear his food bowl clanging against the cabinet door... It makes this noise because, as I previously stated, he is rather stupid... When he has finished eating, he attempts to bury his food bowl, to keep away the would be non-exsistant scavengers that might sneak in and steal it...
Yes, you heard it here... my cat thinks he is going to bury his dinner leftovers in a solid HARDWOOD FLOOR.
Not that he is done eating. He is simply taking a break... as he will be back there for more crunchins and munchins in about twenty minutes. I don't know how he reasons the fact that his bowl is, in fact, not hidden, but he goes back every half an hour or so and eats more... then digs more imaginary holes in the parkay flooring.
My cat does not play with toys, or string. He does not scamper about like a "normal" one year old cat. The extent of his exercise comes from attacking our other cat Homer, (yes, just like Simpson, as he is a fat ass lazy slob, with an ass on him like a forty-doller mule), and caterwauling exactly 25 minutes after we go to bed- no matter what time of night that may be.
His favorite thing is the world is watching me do "The Shit-Box Show", that is to say, when I clean out his poop bin, and then walk arrogantly by me as I finish, as HE has to be the first to lay a new load in the clean sand; it is, to him, a moral imperative.
He does not view us as masters, owners, landlords, proprietors, or sovereigns of this household. To him, we are simply staff. Indeed, the only one in the family he respects at all is my 6 year old son (and then only slightly...).
When I pick Loki up, he looks as though he is merely tolerating the attention lavished upon him. Let my son pick him up... and he is content to be slung over Brenden's shoulder passively as if he were a sack of grain, and be carried anywhere. He does not run away when they reach their destination, but proceeds to lay there and suck up all the love and attention like a sponge.
No such loyalty for me- I am just "The one who picks up my shit and feeds me" to his royal hind-end, HRM Loki.( I suppose everyone has thier part to play in life.)
I am off to bed. Would that I had a stop watch to substantiate my claim- The one about his nightly singing habits. He will saunter up and down the hallway, (which by the by has a GREAT echo and amplification effect,) 25 minutes from now, to prove his dickheadedness, and go out of his way, just as I fall asleep, to wake me and remind me who owns this house.

Anger Management

I have much agonized over this decision: Should I leave my last post up or delete it... as I am having ambiguous feelings about the whole thing, I will edit a few things and repost. This is the most fair, I think. It keeps the intellectual creation in tact, whilst not hurting the feelings of my spouse, (or anyone else for that matter). I do not apologize for my feelings, but I can be tactful in my dleivery of them when telling the whole world I had a REALLY REALLY BAD DAY.
I have removed the name calling bits I had in here before, as they really are lashes that are beneath me when I am thinking straight. I am usually the type of person that can tell you to go to hell in such a way as to have you looking forward to the trip.
And since it was pointed out to me that I DID fail to mention earlier that I was not completely out of pills this morning, (damn close to out, but not out), I have to add that little bit too.
In my defense... I had enough that were I to have taken them first thing in the morning, I would have had less pain in the AM, (but more than likely been back to suffering status come lunch time).

The entire day was a train wreck for me.
Allow me to summarize...
~Got up at 7:40, and made coffee, gave the kids breakfast, and sat to check my email. Got on phone to LRMC to find out about Rx refill.
~About 8:10, I called LRMC again. Got nowhere.
~By 9:15, I was pretty pissed off, called again.
~Now, being 10:15ish, I talk to husband on phone, get an ear full of his bad day, and he wants to know what is going on- to which I respond with an eloquent "I DON'T F'ING KNOW!" Decide to call him back when I get an answer to that question.
~10:40, final call to LRMC. In great amounts of pain, afraid to take last Percocet, as I didn't know when I would be able to get more. Talked to the receptionist, then the nurse, then the doctor's PA. Rx is filled! YAY!
~10:45 call husband tell him I am digging for my bra ad I am ready to go... Causing husband great panic and sparking off fight, as he misinterprets what I say to mean "Drop your shit and come get me". I start to cry, cracking from the frustration, and hang up the phone.
~11 am I post my first draft of my blog, as he comes steaming in the door... It was soon after this I lost all track of time.
~Get kids fed, dressed and into the car, Daughter loses her do-rag, son is slapping daughter in back of car, kids are screaming.
~Traffic. Oh boy, Traffic. Accident on 2 lane narrow road makes for slow going on a hot day in a non-air-conditioned car. (Kids still fighting)
~Go for haircuts for the boys. Sons comes out nice. Fast too. Husband sits in chair, I take kids potty and to get a drink. Come back, husband still in chair with hair half cut and looking terribly lop sided. Witness another stylist take the clippers from the first, and try to fix the "dent" she put in his head. Quite some time later, we leave the shop with my husband looking... odd. That is to say- the first woman didn't know how to translate "flat top" into German, and to fix what she did, the other lady had to give Kevin white walls on the sides, and the top so short in the middle, he looks like he has a white stripe of nearly bald on top. What should have taken 20 minutes has taken considerably longer.
~Back in the car, going to Ramstein. (I hate Ramstein.) Hot as shit outside, no A/C, and lots more traffic. The 2.5 mile trip takes WAY too long. We opt for the pharmacy first as we get on base.
~Pharmacies being what they are, they were quick to tell me I have to fill this at LRMC, as they can't reach the doctor to have it transfered... at least that is what I understood it to be, as I was so pissed off at this point the rush of blood in my ears was deafening.
~Car, hot, traffic, construction, damn it!
~Get Rx filled. YAY!
~Car, hot, traffic, construction, kids fighting and bitching about wanting a happy meal.
~Ramstein. Have to go get new ID cards, as mine is set to expire in a few days, and we get to the office around ten past three, amazingly having found a parking spot that I didn't have to gimp a mile from. (only half that, and on Ramstein, thats a miracle)
~Sent away by mean man at the window. They close at three, not four like was previously believed.
~Get back to car, and tensions being high, I set to get strapped into the passenger seat without saying much. I then reach to close door, and don't see husbands foot in the way, as he is putting the kids into their car seats, and slam passenger side door on his foot... This about sent him over the edge- a perfect ending to a fucked up day.
~More traffic on the way home, but at least the kids are napping in the back seat. Kevin is making sure his toes are not broken as he tries to drive the car, keep his temper, and finagle through the myriad of cars impeding our way back to the house.
~Finally back at home, we discuss the options of how to get the ID taken care of, as the Army has decided to take different holidays than the USAF and the end of this week is pretty much screwed for errand running.
~Add update to blog...
~Make a late dinner, eat and watch TV. Finally have a discussion about the hurt feelings and misunderstandings, I end up crying, as I so often do after days like this, but at least we got things worked out.

The house is devilishly quiet now, as everyone else has gone to bed. It is 1:00 in the morning. I am still trying to wind down from all that has transpired in the last 19 or so hours. There is nothing on TV, as per usual, so I am playing dumb games on Pogo in an attempt to numb my brain and lull it blissfully silent.
I am glad these kinds of days don't come along too often... I pray I don't have to endure another one until I am fully recovered from my surgery.
After all this, I am proud of me for keeping the majority of my cool. I am still able to smile a little bit, finding a little humor in the events that transpired.
A word of advice- never pray for patience... as God will grant it unto you, then send you a test to make sure you know it's there.

Pain and Apathy

It is on days like this that I find it exceedingly difficult to not verbally lash out at everyone involved in the military, including my husband.
Without going into detail and calling him every dirty name in the book, then proceeding to throw said dirty name book at the closest doctor at LRMC, today I feel like I am lower than dirt when it comes to my priority in this little food chain of my reality.
I take a back seat at all times to my husband's job, even when I feel like I should at least get to sit in the front seat; (not like I am asking to drive). I have always understood, thanks to my upbringing, that if the government would have wanted their men to be married, they would have issued wives in basic training. That having been said, the military of today does recognize the importance a soldiers family plays in his life, and gives some modicum of thanks and respect.
This terrible creeping feeling is eating away at me; if it was anyone else's wife in that shop who had surgery less than a week ago, and needed to go take care of an errand to improve her pain, they would be out of there like a shot.
Not my husband. I have, for the most part, been told to suck it up... He will get to it when he can, I suppose. That could be 10 minutes from now, or sometime this afternoon. At no time am I to be informed of an exact plan. That's his idea of doing the best he can.
Now, if I wanted to encourage his wrath, by making him look like the world's biggest heel, I could make a phone call to his superior explaining my situation. I am sure they would not only encourage him to help me in any way he can, but would insist upon it- all the while letting him subtly know what a shithead he was for making me "grin and bear it" in the first place.
So I sit idly by, in wait. Even him walking through the door right now will not make me feel any better- as I will be made to feel guilty and wrong for imposing such a torturous and inconvenient errand upon him. Although I did the best I could to motivate the doctors do to better for me, and started my bitchery with the clinic at 7:45 am, I have now forced the inconvenience of the pharmacy trip to the afternoon hours, which means heat and sweat. If not for my complaining, I know secretly he would rather go tomorrow, despite my pain; would that he could... I am far too stubborn, and frankly in too much pain to stomach that.
I hate being a burden.I always have. It does not mesh well at all with who I am- especially not when I am "supposed" to be in the back seat, where a good military wife belongs. UPDATE:

We have just returned from the long and arduous afternoon. I hate Ramstein... I hate going there, I hate being there. My biggest bitch is the parking- or lack thereof.The crowding sucks, the constructions compounds these issues. It is a fact of life that we have to go there for anything official or medical. Suh as today.
To conserve my number of trips down the stairs on a bum leg, I try to get as much accomplished as possible per trip. My ID card is soon to expire, and getting it replaced was on the list of shit to do today. Arriving at the ID card office at 3:05 PM, we were sent away, being told they close at 3. Assholes.
I did get my meds.
I did tell my husband that he hurt my feelings, and how bad I already felt being partially crippled; I didn't need him exploiting that fact and enforcing my feelings of helplessness. A paragon of self-righteous indignity I was. Receiving a very sincere apology, I have opted for letting it go... Well, only after reminding him that I went out of my way last year to NOT make him feel like a burden when he had his back surgery. Ass chewing and guilt trip successfully completed, I have taken my pain killers and now feel much more mellow.
There will certainly be plenty more days in the next ten years until he retires that we will quarrel over the military career versus the family affairs. It is an inevitable part of the life military spouses must endure. I know now, as a married woman, why my mom used to cry when I was a kid... even though she always said there was nothing wrong, those days always went hand in hand with something going wrong with Daddy's work.
It takes a very special and strong soul to withstand this lifestyle. For those thousands of others out there, I applaud you.
Our lovers lay down their very life for our country. We give up everything in our lives so they can. We do it quietly,( for the most part), and we are proud of our men for what they do- even when we hate that they do it.

Crazier than ME.

I was on my favorite forum site, and found a list of questions we are doing for today's meme. Apparently, it is a list of questions given out by the church of scientology to people seeking office within the church. I have scoured the internet, only able to find a handful of the supposed list of 343.
Yes, this is the religion we have seen Tom Cruise blabbering about non-stop on TV as of late. Frankly, it is some scary shit. If this is only 10-20% of the list... what are the rest of the questions like? I even found references to a similar list for kids aged 6-12. What IS this world coming to?
I have found this page which is fighting the evil... and listed below are the questions I have found, both from the forums and the research.
Scary shit folks... really scary. I put this list together from three different sites.
• Have you driven anyone insane?
• Have you ever killed the wrong person?
• Is anybody looking for you?
• Have you ever set a poor example?
• Did you come to Earth for evil purposes?
• Are you in hiding?
• Have you systematically set up mysteries?
• Have you ever made a practice of confusing people?
• Have you ever philosophized when you should have acted instead?
• Have you ever gone crazy?
• Have you ever sought to persuade someone of your insanity?
• Have you ever deserted, or betrayed, a great leader?
• Have you ever smothered a baby?
• Do you deserve to have any friends?
• Have you ever castrated anyone?
• Do you deserve to be enslaved?
• Is there any question on this list I had better not ask you again?
• Have you ever tried to make the physical universe less real?
• Have you ever zapped anyone?
• Have you ever had a body with a venereal disease? If so,
did you spread it?
1. HAVE YOU EVER ENSLAVED A POPULATION?
2. HAVE YOU EVER IMPLANTED ANYONE?
3. HAVE YOU EVER SACKED A CITY?
4. HAVE YOU EVER SUNK OR OTHERWISE DESTROYED A NONCOMBATANT VESSEL?
5. HAVE YOU EVER ABUSED HOSTAGES OR PRISONERS?
11. HAVE YOU EVER DEGRADED A RELIGION?
12. HAVE YOU EVER RAPED A CHILD OF EITHER SEX?
13. HAVE YOU EVER WARPED AN EDUCATIONAL SYSTEM?
14. HAVE YOU EVER DEPRIVED PEOPLE OF HOPE?
15. HAVE YOU COMMITTED MURDER?
16. HAVE YOU EVER DESTROYED A CULTURE?
97. HAVE YOU EVER STOLEN SHIPS, DRAFT, VESSELS OR VEHICLES BELONGING TO A GOVERNMENT?
98. HAVE YOU EVER DISAPPEARED?
99. HAVE YOU EVER KILLED YOUR OWN BODY?
100. HAVE YOU EVER PRETENDED TO A KNOWINGNESS YOU DID NOT POSSESS?
101. HAVE YOU EVER CAUSED A PLANET TO DISAPPEAR? <---WHAT?!
170. HAVE YOU EVER PERPETUATED AN INJUSTICE?
171. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN BRUTAL TO ANIMALS?
172. HAVE YOU EVER DENIED OTHERS A MEANS OF EXISTENCE?
173. HAVE YOU EVER DESERTED YOUR OWN CHILDREN?
174. HAVE YOU EVER REFUSED TO SUPPORT YOUR PARENTS OR GRANDPARENTS?
175. HAVE YOU EVER DENIED OTHERS A REDRESSMENT OF GRIEVANCES?
176. HAVE YOU EVER CAUSED ANOTHER TO DISTRUST HIMSELF?
343. HAVE YOU EVER FAILED TO RESCUE YOUR LEADER?
Have you ever enslaved a population?
Have you ever sacked a city?
Have you ever raped a child of either sex?
Have you ever bred bodies for degrading purposes?
Have you ever deliberately tortured someone?
Have you driven anyone insane?
Have you ever made a planet, or nation, radioactive?
Have you ever maimed or crippled other people's bodies?
Have you ever torn out someone's tongue?
Have you ever blinded anyone?
Have you ever punished another by cutting off some part of his body?
Have you ever had sexual relations with an animal or a bird?
Have you ever applied a hot iron to another person's body?
Have you ever beaten a child to death?
Have you ever eaten a human body?
Have you ever practiced cannibalism?
Have you ever peddled dope?
Have you practiced sex with animals?
Have you ever attempted suicide?
Do you collect sexual objects?
Have you ever practiced sex with children?
Have you ever practiced masturbation?
Have you ever killed or crippled animals for pleasure?
Have you ever had unkind thoughts about L. Ron Hubbard?
Are you upset about this security check?

(ever caused a planet to disappear?!)

Search Engines 2

It has come to my attention that I have a following, albeit a small and cultish one. There are those of you who follow from Freeverse, and my family, and a few who know me personally as friends... Then there are those who find me from a google search. According to my stats page, 18 visitors out of the last 381 have added me to their favorites. I do not know how accurate these stats are, nor how they gather their information, but if they are correct... How cool!
What I do often find disturbing are the words I write that google picks up that sends people to my pages in search of knowledge. This week, "Mommy's Boobs" was a search hit, as was "Worst Porns Ever", and "Nuthouse Scrabble". I may have written about boobs, and nuthouses, and scrabble, and about the worst movie ever- but not in the context the engine found them in. My most popular hits are AAFES sucks and baby quilt.
Over the last few months that I have stepped out of the darkness from the land of the html retarded to the blog-o-sphere, I have found this site to be a great outlet of my frustration. At times it has been a cause of exasperation, such as this morning I noticed the links to my archives seem to be missing. I don't know what happened to them, and they have probably but absent this whole damn time. To just now notice it now is a bit of a piss off. I will have to work on that... But not now. Some other time when I am not blinded by the searing pain in my foot, perhaps.
My wish is for more people to comment, and to one day to be as cool as Dooce- okay, half as cool as Dooce would be great. I have dreams and aspirations. My cult can help me reach them. But no Jones style funny kool-aid for my followers, nor a compound in Texas... Just the basic coolio fringe blog site, (and one day a place to peddle my costume wears...)
Thanks for stopping by the site of the crazy ass, bi-polar military spouse and stay at home mom, who holds her psyche together with the proverbial equivalent of a paste stick, string, and bent up paperclips.
Please come again.

Not Today

I have opted for no foot photo today, as it looks much the same as it did yesterday, and I am feeling a bit better. I may even attempt to walk down the stairs tomorrow.

I am waiting for a thunderstorm. I have been waiting. "They", the wether center, have been forecasting one for the last three days. They suck. We haven't seen drop one of rain... no cooling winds... no scary rumbles of thunder... I am pretty much convinced that the weather center here has a dart board with little pictures on it in lieu of a satellite link. There is no other way they could be so wrong, so often.
It has been humid and nasty out. Being from the desert, I can't fairly call it "hot", but when it gets up to 95 degrees on my patio, and the humidity is about 50%, I do tend to bitch and moan a bit. Europe does prove interesting, though. Two summers ago, we had a record breaking heat wave- was getting into the 90s daily. The French were dropping dead, the Spanish took to the streets to play in fountains, and the Germans were hosing down the cooling towers of the nuclear plant, so it wouldn't blow up.
Too bad they didn't think to start believing in central A/C here. We not only don't have it here, but we are not authorized to go out and get an A/C unit for our house. We have to get a note from a doctor saying we need it, then we have to foot the bill for it. The units run around 400 euros, too. Not cheap, and it seems to be a commonplace theme in Germany.

When we went to buy our car here, the sales people looked at us funny. In Germany, we Americans are considered to be spoiled when it comes to cars. Only the very top of the line cars have air conditioning. Even the POS models at home have it... From the lowly 3 cylinder japanese rice runners to the top of the line luxury sedans, you will find A/C to be standard on 98% of all makes and models sold in the USA.

So yeah, I a spoiled rotten American. I can deal with that... It's not like I am hard to please. I just want to not sweat my ass off all summer long. Is that so much to ask?!

THAT'S love...

My husband got up early this morning, got dressed, grabbed the kids and headed off bravely to the commi-scary. (That's him up there- the one with the party streamers tied around his head.)
Now taking a 5 and 6 year old out for the morning is a daunting task- even for me- the "mom". I have grown adept at handling the ya-ya, fighting and running about created by them ganging up on the lone parent scenario.
For Kev to do it is a sainthood application. He did it to give me a break this morning, and he made me promise to rest while he was out. Then my darling man will carry all the spoils of the trip up four flights of stairs without much aid.
He has even taken to reminding the kids, when they get unruly, that it is their turn to care for me, as I do for them when they get sick.
I just hope his excursion dosn't ruin his mood by the time he gets home. There are times I forget what a patient and caring guy I married.(Easy to do on those nights when my primary source of entertainment is making fun of his flatulence, or watching him flip off the cat.) Then something like this "broken down wife" thing comes along and I have to have my moment of slack-jawed wonder.
Thanks, Honey!

My Friend, Percocet

I am home and alive....
My frickon foot hurts, but I got up the long four flights of stairs on my own power. According to the notes on my chart, the surgery took 48 minutes.
Doc said the pain should be much better within 2 to 3 weeks. Until then, I have my friend, percocet, and the military's unending supply of vitamin M, (aka motrin).
So for at least 2 weeks, I should have lots of free time to sit here and blog, and bitch, piss and moan, as I am so want to do.
My sweet husband has already been scolding me to "SIT DOWN!!!". My darling kids are all about helping mommy, constantly asking if there is anything they can get me or do for me. It's very touching. Even they are telling me to sit down, and they will get it- I have to justify my trips to the potty. So sweet.

Scared

Tomorrow, in the very early morning, I will be checking in to LRMC for outpatient surgery to fix (I hope), my broken ankle.
It has been broken since last fall, and I have been putting off the repair for sometime. Up until today, I was looking forward to getting this taken care of and behind me. Now, I feel like a little kid. I am freaking out inside, (of course I hold my ever cool outside together). I remember the feeling of terror when I was 11 and went in for surgery on my knee... the dread and alarm when the nurse told me my mom couldn't go into the surgical prep room with me... The horror of having to let go of her hand, as they wheeled me away on that clattering gurney.
I am 31 now, and I still feel that little girl impulse inside to call the whole thing off.
This is me being vulnerable folks... Mark the day, and wish me well.
I'll post tomorrow when some of the opiate haze wears off... Not that I will be able to form sentient thoughts- but it may make for a good argument against drug use.

All Done

Although I am unsure what happened to my clean house... I seem to have lost it, yesterdays libations were a complete success.
My daughter is spoiled completely rotten.

Thanks to everyone who came, and those that sent goodies! She had a wonderful time!

Party Day

Let the major ya-ya commence.
Today we are having the party for my baby Rachel turning five years old. There will be the obligatory cake and ice cream, burgers and dogs, a 10 year old, an 8 year old, 2 six year olds, the birthday girl, a 2 year old, three husbands, four wives, and 2 cats... (and a partridge in a pear tree).
We have party favors, water balloons, and pink "Princess" plates. We have beer can chickens for the grill, and baby back ribs. The gals are bringing the side goodies, so we have that covered.
What we don't know if we have is the mental fortitude for the big loud that is sure to accompany the celebrations.
After the childhood rituals of passage are complete, we will be turning our attention to the promotions of two of the men folk. We shall partake of the alco-beverages and toast to TSgt selects Kevin Knight and Scott Watson!
Hopefully the seven children, being stuffed and drenched will be easy to quiet by that time, so the seven adults in attendance can get much shit-faced, without falling on said kids.
It should be a blast.
Let you know tomorrow if we all survived.

Messy Messy

I have just spent the last 30 minutes trying to de-gross my son's room. I had to take a break. I know that it is normal for a 6 year old to have a messy room... But some of the things I found in there go so far beyond "mess" it isn't funny. Disgusting, foul, vile, repulsive, nauseating room.
Due to his many super-secret secret squirrel raids to the pantry, he has littered every corner of his space with wrappers, packages, crumbs and even fruit pits. NASTY!
My breaking point just now was stepping on a popcorn seed. When I turned around to find out where it came from, I found not A bag, but 3 empty microwave popcorn bags stashed under his bed, amongst other unrecognizable gross shit. ICK!
Then I picked up some of his clothes to find a picaso-esque finger painting made of dried chocolate pudding on the wood floor.
I'm gonna lose it. My mind, my temper... my lunch.
My daughters room is next. Although generally cleaner, she is good at making her room "look" clean- by stuffing lots of little bits of shit where it dosn't belong.
Hence she will claim her toy box is too full for toys, only to be shown it wouldn't be if she would put her dirty clothes in the hamper instead of the toy box. I fear what might be growing under her bed. No doubt I will find all the missing cups and glasses stashed in some ingenious 4 year old type hidey hole. Pray for me as I go bravely into the abyss.

This may be the mother's curse, but there is no way I ever was this bad... I can't think of a time when my mom found my room in such disarray as to almost throw up upon cleaning it. I am sure she will swear I was, but she's a liar.

Announcements

Today is my day to be sappy me....
Two wonderful things happened today.
My beautiful son graduated from Kindergarten.

And my husband passed his test, and is now a TSgt select. For those who don't know, that means he is soon to be an E6, and make a little more money.

Woo Hoo for my boys!

Horse Teeth

Having scoured the web for a picture and information on the afore mentioned Horse Teeth Lady My darling husband got inventive last night and whipped it out. Not his member, sicko- The camera.
Apparently the woman's nam is Brenda Walsh... yes, just like 90210, except she is actually scarier than Shannon Doherty.
So here she is- the queen of Gross Cooking, and the TV Personality that brings to mind scary thoughts of swallowing fire hydrants whole.

Big Boy and Teeth

Yesterday I spent the afternoon listening to the most horrible noise in the world. A dentists drill grinding into my son's teeth.
I was so very proud of him. SO BRAVE!
No crying, no whimpering, no complaining. He laid there still and quiet.
Made me look like the worlds biggest wuss... which I am when it comes to the dentist.
And now he has a "cool" silver tooth to show his friends in kindergarten.
The whole filling thing was almost a not, as I got the usual Military treatment from the Ramstein Dental Clinic.
I have been trying for 6 or so weeks to get my son seen by them. A few guidelines I had to remember
a) They only make appt. on Fridays- can't make an appointment to see a dentist any other day of the week, no matter what you say or who you talk to.
b) You can only make appointments on fridays BEFORE say, 9ish, as they only have what I would assume to be 3 openings ever.
c) When you call on the wrong day to make an appt., and they tell you to call back on Friday, they are in no way obligated to tell you that "this" friday is a goal day, so call Thursday instead.
d) They do not make appt. for other doctors when you ask for Pediatrics, and when one dentist goes on leave, the whole military dental world falls into the abyss of hell.
e) Dental sick call is completely useless, as they don't really do anything for the patient, unless his jaw happens to be rotting off.
All that having been said, and mind you, I am no doubt missing a few of the unspoken by-laws, when my son was seen for the cavity, the doc sent him away saying, make an appointment to have him evaluated. (What, like I did to bring him here today?!) He did no x-rays, not even the annoying pokey thing with the pick... Did a big load of dick.
Note:My temperature going up.
Talked to the tech- Peds dentistry is not actually making any appointments this week, not until the 24th... Doctor is on leave. (My blood is now on a simmer)
"Ok, how about a non-pediatric doctor?" No, no... you have to call Friday for that. Like I did this past friday to get the "big load of dick" appointment I came in for today? (Got a rolling boil going on here). "Can I talk to someone else? Someone who can DO something?"
So, I got shuffled between a few techs, and each one that showed up was higher ranked than the one before. They were really hammering on the point of me calling on Friday the 24th to get my son seen... It was unfathomable to them I could have anything else to think of at 7 am that day. And despite my protests that on that day, I will be laid out on the couch, foot in cast and a waterfall of drool spilling from my lips while I make friends with Mr. Percocet, they didn't want to give up on me making that call.
Finally, a doc said he would look at my son.... Gee, couldn't do that in the first place, huh, folks? Only took me bitching at 5 people. Charming.
When we did get in to see doc #2- totally righteous doc- He was stunned that doc #1 took no x-rays, gave me no specifics, and sent me away. All in all, they drilled out over half of that one tooth in my son- which tends to point towards the damage being somewhat pronounced. Bunch of bastards... Took me this long to get something done... perhaps I should go for the jaw rot thing next time, so I can go right in.
I have to call back to make another appointment for my daughter- and to get the rest of my son's teeth cleaned and checked. I shall get out the Ouija board and roll some chicken bones so I don't miss my chance... That moment when the moon aligns right with the planets and I can get my kid's names down on the golden list worthy of their attention, no bitching required.

Euro-Bowl

LONG weekend. Good weekend, but very LONG.
We dropped the kids off Saturday morning for a sleep over and got on a tour bus bound for Dusseldorf. Destination- NFL Europe Superbowl- to watch the Amsterdam Admirals play the Berlin Thunder. Don't know much about either team, except that the NFLEL is the farm league of the NFL, and it was a pretty good game.
Last quarter was killer- thought Berlin was gonna pull it off and go into over-time... alas they didn't.
This may be the only change I will ever have in my life to go to an "NFL Superbowl". There was even a letter from Tagliabue in the program. Cool stuff.
We partied on the way there. We partied during the game. We partied on the way home. We suffered Sunday for our day long jollifications... Nothing better than a hard earned hangover... especially when it starts the night before on the bus, and it is mixed with the peril of sleep deprivation. Great weekend!

Buffy and Gross Cooking

We sat on the couch watching re-runs of Buffy on DVD last night. This was for 2 reasons. One- he likes Sarah M Gellar, and I think David Boreanaz is one of the most gorgeous creatures walking the face of this planet.(And who could disagree, honestly?) Two- there was a complete lack of anything else on.
Upon running out of episodes to watch on one disc, we opted to take another cruise through the channels, as neither of us wanted to get up and change the disc. We luckily stumbled upon one of our favorite shows. I do not know it's real title, but to us it is "Gross Cooking".
It is carried on the 3ABNnetwork. It's all evangelism- all the time. Woo Hoo. Thank you TKS for this insipid bit of programming.
Gross cooking is the on air food preparation of things like lasagna and hamburgers and cheesecake without the use of any... well... anything resembling meat, cheese, milk, eggs, sugar or the like.
Indeed, each of these shows is based on cooking with soy products. From little boxes of soy products spring faux scrambled eggs and cookies. Vile.
They make chicken enchiladas with non-chicken chicken. They even made a meat-loaf with some kind of "crumbles". Nasty. No sugar for those desserts either. Not that they would stick with the simple answer of fruit smoothies, either. Nay, they make chocolate chip cookies- without real flour, without sugar, and without CHOCOLATE! Repulsive.
Why do we watch it? To make fun of it- and of each other's faces... it's entertaining to see who will gag first. Kev also enjoys making fun of the "horse mouth" lady. She does look like she could swallow a fire hydrant. I have as of yet been unable to locate a picture of her. She's not ugly- just has a REALLY BIG MOUTH.
As of now, we have lost our british feeds.... which means tonight will no doubt be more Buffy. Maybe we'll get lucky, and get to gag on them cooking some new nauseating soy based non-meat meat dish.

Search Engines

I was just checking out the stats on my page... looking at who hit it, and from where. I also get to see who got to my page from a search engine, and what term they used.
I am the #1 google hit for "AAFES sucks". Which I find hilarious.
The most interesting search thus far is this... and this is a quote.
"i am a woman and i want my best friends boobs how do iget them"
And my page came up from this... WHY?!
I mean, sure anyone looking for Kris Kramer, or rants on AAFES, I can understand. But wanting best friends boobs?
I feel it my obligation at this point to offer advice to this burning individual. Ask your friend to cut them off and give them to you. OH! OH! NO! WAIT! I GOT IT! Call Jerry Springer!
Better yet- use the money for implants on heavy duty therapy.

Happy Birthday

June 6th.
Marks two important days for me.
One is the birthday of one of my long lost friends- Matthew Heling. He is 31 now, like the rest of us. When I say he is lost- I mean lost. He has somehow managed to fall off the face of the earth. No phone number, no email, I have a previous Vegas address, but kinda of hard to check if he lives there from Europe. Happy Birthday, Matt. Hope you are well.
June 6th also marks the midpoint of our life in the military.
Today makes it 10 years my beloved has been in the USAF. Only 10 more to go. Holy shit... To say 10 years and "only" in the same sentence... Makes me realize how twisted this adulthood thing is. How do I make it stop?

The Worst Movie Ever Made

I spent 2 hours of my life last night, (120 minutes will never get back), being arm twsted into watching the WORST MOVIE EVER MADE!
The movie was "Troll 2".

Holy shit, and I mean HO-LEEE SHIT!.... this is was the most horrible piece of cinematic shit ever committed to film.
To make a quick summary-This little kid and his family move to a farm house in "NILBOG" where on they are besieged by a town full of goblins, (not trolls), and by town full I mean 26. They are saved by a dead grandfather who lives in Hell, and a kid eating and a double decker bologna sandwich.
Yea... Horrible. The vacuous nature of the entire experience has left me feeling less intelligent than when I started.
The acting... MIGAWD! I have seen Ron Jeremy porns with more convincing dialogue.
The "mom" character -Some poor woman with hollywood dreams ends up in the worst movie ever looking in all scenes like someone glued her eyes open, and sucked her brain out with the flo-bee. The "Big sister"... some teenager filled with self-hatred for her own virginity, and the worst case of over-acting I have yet witnessed, has NO consequence on the plot, other than to be another body for the goblins to chase... Then there is the poor RV living teenage boy who gets seduced by the goblin queen so that he can end up in a winnebago up to his ass cheeks in popcorn. (?!)
Of course the punch of it all comes at the great climaxing end when the boy saves the day with a bologna sandwich given to him by his hell-residing dead grandfather. The goblins are afraid of bologna. Nay, all meat products- even tho they want to eat this family. The child has his kindred "concentrate", with their hands on a stone, supposedly from stonehenge(?!). This is supposed to destroy the stone... which it doesn't- but the "Goblins" fall down in a sickly display of Grand-Mal Seizures. WHAT THE FUCK?!
And the MGM Channel put this rubbish on the air... They did it on purpose.
I looked it up on google. It has pages upon pages of reviews. Some are even fans of the flick based on how horrible it is. You can find my favorite review HERE, and here
The only recommendation I can make is... get really drunk with a room full of very close friends if you are gonna watch this "movie". And have a camera ready at the end so you can take pictures of the slack jawed expressions of said friends after they have had IQ points sucked directly from their brains into television land.

EBay Obsession

I may need some kind of professional intervention. (As if that wasn't obvious.) I am not alone in my compulsionI am however, consistent.
Being that I am almost always less than happy with the selection offered to me by AAFES on most things I want to purchase... And it is against my personal religion to pay those high retail prices for the name brand merchandise they do offer (I don't believe in name brands, either)... I have turned to ebay for the majority of the things I buy.
Paypal is my friend.
My walls are hung with the trappings of "Country Decor Lot"s, and two fabulous oil paintings I got for less than 100 bucks. The gold chain I wear, my right hand ring, and my shoes... all ebay.
My daughter is playing at my feet with a doll from ebay too, and her closet is stuffed full of those great bargain lots of 4T clothes. My son plays ebay purchased games on his GBA- which also came from ebay. Even my cats are not immune, as they wear "soft paws" I purchase from a seller on ebay of pet supplies.
In a few weeks, I will decorate a birthday cake with the Disney Princess stuff I also got from the infamous auction site.
It's not all my fault- I just love a good sale- and the BX hardly knows what that is. A good sale, I mean. And the selection sucks. Wanna try something funny? Go into the computer and electronics section of your local exchange and ask them for a Mac compatible anything... The look on their faces is priceless.
I shall stick with my auctioning sickness- at least it is cheaper then being a mall-rat. And I am not as bad as This Lady. At least, not yet. If I should ever get that bad, I trust I will have my ass kicked.