World Domination!

Like everyone else I like to reflect on the last day of the year, then focus on what I want in the next.

This year was a year of life changing events for me.

My divorce was final in January. I look on that as a positive.

I didn’t make MasterChef, twice. Not my loss, theirs. Dealing with that rejection was actually easy.

I lost friends in Afghanistan. I am now waiting for the rest to come home. I also know that I have many more heading back over there, and I worry about them all the time.

…and I blew out my knee this month.

I also bought a microwave.

It’s kinda funny when I look back. We never know how we will deal with the things that are thrown at us until that very moment it happens.

I know what I want next year. I don’t care how I get it.

I want my children, family and friends to be happy and healthy.

I want ALL my friends home safe to be with their families. I also want my best friend home to me, even though he will still be far away.

I want to be a better Mother, Daughter, Sister and Friend.

…and now to the selfish things I want.
I want my knee to heal quickly so I can kick the shit out of things again and run 10k’s.
I think I want to stay single so I can have as many ‘pretend’ boyfriends that I want.
I want people to be more accepting of one another.
I want to learn more.
…and I want … get this…

WORLD DOMINATION!

Yeah, it’s a simple thing.

I wonder if this is something I should try to plan out with an Excel spread sheet?
Or just wing it?

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

The Cupid Shuffle has a whole new meaning to me.

You know that line dance people do to the Cupid Shuffle?

This is how the chorus goes…
“To the right, to the right, to the right, to the right
To the left, to the left, to the left, to the left
Now kick, now kick, now kick, now kick
Now walk it by yourself, now walk it by yourself”

I just got back from seeing my Doctor for my second appointment about the lack of knee ligaments I have attached on my right knee.

At my last appointment he had told me he wanted me to be able to bend my knee all the way and completely straighten it out, on my own with no help.
I’m laying on the table and he is checking on my knee movement.
I straighten my leg completely and I am able to bend it all the way.
Doc…”Wow, you really did take it as a personal challenge.”
Me…”Yes, I did. After I saw you last I went home and started practicing straightening it. I was able to do it by the end of the night. It took me a few more days to be able to bend it. It was really swollen.”
Me…”I think it helps that I am already in good shape and pain doesn’t bother me.”
Doc…”Yes, but I have a lot of patients that are also in great shape and they don’t come back with this much motion.”
I go on to tell him I got the ‘bend’ back by practicing my squats.

He continues with his exam on my right knee.
He holds my ankle in one hand and my calf in the other and starts moving my knee up and down….then as I watched him with apprehension he was able to move my leg in an un humanly manner…to right, to the left, to the right again and back to the left…it was revolting to see.
….but my sense of humor was not in my right knee, there for it is still in tack.
Me…”You know that song, 'The cupid shuffle’?"…and I started to sing…
He laughed…he seems to laugh with me a lot.

He goes over all the damage done to my knee and what we are going to do about, all the while looking at my MRI pictures.

He starts with my ACL tear and shows me where it is…I mean, is supposed to be.
He shows me how bruised my bones are...
 …get this…
…where my femur was twisted and knocked out and HIT my Tibia.
Come on now, that’s cool shit…right?:/
Then he shows me my MCL tear, followed by meniscus.

My Doc. then looked at me and told me my option…no ’s’ on the end of option.

His number one concern is my torn MCL (medial collateral ligament). Normally this kind of injury would heal itself. His concern is that I have SO MUCH side to side motion that it will not heal on it’s own, which complicates my ACL surgery options.
I look at him in the middle of all this and say…
…”You know this fascinates me?”
Doc…”I can tell, I’m glad you are interested, it will make your recovery quicker…just as long as you do exactly as I tell you!"

Most ACL injuries are fixed by removing portions of the hamstring and ‘recycling’ them and attaching them where the ACL used to be. Well, with my MCL injury, that most likely will not heal on it’s own, because it was separated from my tibia…if they use pieces of my hamstring my MCL won’t heal properly. He will probably have to use a donor ligament…FROM A CADAVER!

He went over the different incisions he will have to make in my leg to fix everything. I ask him about the scars I will have. They will be plentiful!
I have tons of scars all ready, just from getting stitches, more than people are aware. I have seven on my face, one very large one, I think it adds character;) I have three on my abdomen, one very ugly scar above my right knee and two on both of my legs…from my lipo. (I like bringing that up!) Those are the ones JUST from stitches.
I then explain to him, yes, I would like to be pretty on the outside, but the inside matters more…
Doc says he will do his best to make the inside of my knee just as wonderful as the outside.
He knows people will see my legs and ask, “Who did that work?” He want’s a positive question mark!
He tells me I have to keep my leg in my brace as much as I can, even when sleeping. This way maybe a miracle will happen and my MCL will fix itself…that would cut about $1000.00 off my surgery costs. I’m a bit frugal, I will keep this mother F’er on ALL the time if I can save that money.

I have noticed a depletion in my muscle structure already in my right leg. It’s a very noticeable depletion. We all know I am a vain woman…I will not let this continue.
I had been depending on my left leg to get me through. Today I started right leg lifts and other exercises. The only thing I CAN NOT do is pivot and turn.
On Monday I will return to kickboxing…sans the kicking…jujitsu, sans the kicking and my other gym where I will rock my abs and upper body with weights. I will also do leg exercises…
…”Faster, Better, Stronger…” The bionic woman…

I go back in 3 weeks to check on my MCL and then 1 week later I have surgery on what ever needs fixing.
I am not excited, but I will figure out how I will deal with it and I will keep my sense of humor.
I’ll probably have to ask my Mom and Dad to fly in so they can help me, and they will if I ask.
They love me.

Oh…I almost forgot…When I came out of the Doctors office there was a girl about 12 years old, in a brace similar to mine. I looked at her and said…
…”All the cool kids are wearing them.” and I winked at her, she giggled.

Dear Remroom

When I started blogging I thought that only my Facebook friends would read it. I had hoped though that others would find it, read it, get my sense of humor and be entertained by my witty point of view. (I just tooted my own horn and called myself witty;)

I can track what posts are most popular, what time of day they are read, what countries they are being read in and by what links people are using to access it. I don’t know which individual is reading them though…so don’t worry, your anonymity is safe.

I have readers all over the world. I know most of them.
There are several countries I don’t know anyone in though: Croatia, Slovenia and Russia to name a few.


I told my Ex about this and he said…

…”You know who’s in Russia? Spies.”
He was serious.
I live in the shadow of Cheyenne Mountain.
…but I don’t think any spy could retrieve any useful information from me about our National Security. That is actually laughable.
Although….some have said I have Mata Hari tendencies, but I think they are referring to my love of being in front of the camera in costumes.



The United States and Russia just signed the new START treaty. (Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty)

My synapses’ fire differently than a normal person. So in my mind, I have this reader whom I think is in Russia. The START just signed, Iran just declared themselves Nuclear capable and North Korea is threatening the South…

The known countries with Nuclear capabilities are as followed: The United States, Britain, Russia, India, Pakistan, France and China. ‘We’ also believe that Israel, Iran and North Korea are in the game, as they say.
I must blog about this…





I would like to begin my one sided dialogue about Iran. (I don’t want it to be one sided though.)

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is the tyrannical, oppressive leader of Iran. He is off his rocker.
The Iranians I meet call themselves Persians, I think they are embarrassed at what their country has become.
There was a time that Iran was trying to Westernize itself. This was under the leadership of the Shah of Iran. I’m not gonna tell you he went about it the right way though. He used the power of the SAVAK, the secret police, if his foes defied him. He tried his best….his best wasn’t good enough though.
He was ousted from power…

I was in Iran in 1979. The country was as beautiful as the people that live there.

In 1979 numerous events took place in Iran. The Shah is sent into exile, the Ayatollah returns, the Islamic Republic is proclaimed and 52 Americans are held hostage in the United States Embassy, not to be released until after 444 days.
The day before my birthday in 1980 the Iran Iraq war started.

The Saudi government, the King of Bahrain and a plethora of other countries in that region are concerned. They realize there is enough contention in that region.
They have asked the United States to step in and, ’take action’.

….and into to the spiral of a horrific abyss they continue…with Nuclear weapons…

North Korea, The Big Bad Bully of the Pacific with a beastly case of acne…that everyone can see but them as they are blind to it because they refuse to look in a mirror!


My middle son is South Korean born. He goes to Korean school on Saturdays to learn Hangul and to speak Korean as well. He is my son and he will have all the knowledge I can impart upon on him to live a full good life.
We talk about South Korea often as he is proud of where he is from. I love Korea: the food, the people, the country side…We also talk about North Korea. I have shown him what the North looks like at night from satellite imagery…not a light in site.

The people live under circumstances not of their choosing but that of a brutal despotic government. A government that thinks Communism is working for them while their people waste away into oblivion and they, the leaders, live in state of excess that shames me.
Communism is about a totalitarian government that controls all social and economic good and disburses them as...I’m guessing here…as they see fit.
As a Capitalist I think Communism sucks ass.

Lately North Korea has been rearing it’s ugly head and showing it’s ass.
In March the North sunk a South Korean ship and killed 46 Sailors.
In November the North shelled the island of Yeonpyeong, killing 2 soldiers and wounding 17 and 3 civilians were also harmed.
The North is now making threats of a Nuclear attack on the South.

President Lee Myung-bak is finally taking a stance I admire, but that which I am frightful of.

“Fear of war is never helpful in preventing war.”

“If we are firmly determined to brave any risks, we can fend off any emerging threats.”

I like what he says but will reiterate that it frightens me. It frightens me because sometimes when you stand up to a bully they just see themselves in the right and go head on, like a bull, and then blame the consequences of their actions on everyone else.
The consequences would be dire.


…And now onto to the Russia and the good ol’ U.S of A…
The new START signing entails both countries to cut their Nuclear warheads in half. Even if they do this they will both have more nuclear warheads, each, than all other countries that have Nuclear capabilities combined!
This treaty doesn’t stop the US from our uber cool plans to build a missile defense in Europe. I’m all about a good defense.
I don’t however think the world needs to worry about either the US or Russia. They both made it through the cold war unharmed-ish.

(I’m not blogging about Russian politics right now…and that I believe Putin holds all the power and Medvedev is his puppet. Or that the FSB (the KGB replacement) has a heavy hand and is awfully busy with its heavy hand. Or that I think it’s a bit squirrely that Putin, a KGB veteran was appointed as the head of the FSB, then became president…yada, yada, yada…I’m not gonna blog about that stuff at all.)

I left out Japan and the fact the the US obliterated Hiroshima and Nagasaki…that really IS for another day…

I’m thinking politics is no longer a career option for me.

Drive and determination

Drive and determination you would think would mean the same thing to all people…

Today, actually the last couple days it has meant something very different to me. (In a few months I will re-evaluate my perspective on drive and determination as I learn to get my 'sexy walk' back.)

ANGRY BIRDS!!!!!!
Those pigs are my nemeses right now.

I’m watching Forrest Gump  as I type and as I play this dreadful game. I am thinking of myself a little like Forrest right now, except he’s a little smarter.

I never play ‘video games’. I can’t stand them. I love books, I can learn from a book. Video games I can learn nothing from.
But now I am hooked…120 levels I WILL finish!!!

I’m taking a break right now. I’m stuck on level 5-3.
The declarations springing forth from my mouth would embarrass my Father….My Mother would totally understand.
…”Fucking pig …DIE!!!!!”
…”Holy shit! seriously is there double stick tape keeping that cement pillar stuck mid way up the other one?”
…”Mother Fucker! You have got to be kidding ME!”
(Yes, foul, disgusting and very un-lady like….I agree.)

There are some levels I finish in one try….lots of them.
I went on line to see if I could learn to play better. I also had my 6 year old help me.
Did you know there are Golden Eggs you need to collect?
Yeah…I scrolled through the credits in the beginning just to get one…click on the sun after you press play to get another…
Does this make me a gamer?

The Red Birds have no special power. You just sling shot them in the air hoping you have good aim.
The Blue Birds can turn into 3 birds if you touch them with your finger in mid air.
The Black Birds are bombs. Make sure you blow them up at the right time though!
The Yellow Birds have a power booster.
The White Birds Drop ‘egg bombs’.

This is not a tutorial. I’ve been on the same level for 4 hours off and on…I had a break when I went to Macys…
I don’t think I could tutor anyone in this stupidly addictive game!

I do know I had to play one level upside down so I could get the best angles!

Perspective, a sling shot and determination to kill those fucking pigs that are laughing at me now!
Agggggggggg!!!!
I have to go and try to finish this level now….

2 days before Christmas and no children insight...

I’m a Mom.
I’m divorced.
We take turns with all major Holidays….an every other year kinda thing.
Per past Blogs, you know my Ex and I get along well.

Last year I had the Children and my parents came to visit.
He showed up around 5:30am Christmas morning and waited with me as they woke up….We also had to wake my parents;).
He also left after dinner, around 7pm…worked well for me and all of mine!

This year they are with their Dad.
I sit her thankful for the 'Angry Birds’ Game to occupy my time.

It’s the weirdest feeling.
Christmas is about children to me.
(I know, the birth of Jesus and all…or the Winter Solstice/Saturnalia)
But come on…..watching a child a couple days before Christmas and then the morning of,,,
Oh SO precious!

This is a choice I made and MUST live with.

It’s so strange though…

I will be at my Ex’s Christmas morning…5:30am-ish…breakfast casserole in hand.
Together we will be …
...'Team Mom and Dad’
That is the way we refer to ourselves to the children…and the way they think of us.
When at the Children’s School for any event we sit next to each other and I know that people who don’t know us, but kinda know our situation sit and wonder….
There is NOTHING to wonder about as we are two mature adults that love our Children.

Christmas Afternoon we will go to our mutual friends for Christmas dinner at 1:00 with ALL our other friends. It will be wonderful, full of laughter and joy!

One day he will show up with a girl-friend (I hope and pray) and I will hug her for she will be family.
It will be one of the greatest gifts ever.

2011 is coming up fast….
Do yourself a favor…

Caveat….
Some of you are divorced from some major assholes or total fucking bitches….I understand this…

If you can live better by putting someone else before yourself you should find what ever way you can to do so.

A Christmas Wish for all of you…
…
Love, peace, friendship….and a gift from the Angels…freedom to be yourself,  and the realization you are a blessed being yourself!

Yule Tides and may your Fire Burn Bright!

My 1st Ortho (not -dontics) Appointment

I had my first visit with my now, very own Orthopedic Doctor today.

F4 picks up my children to take to the $1 movie so I can get to my appointment.

I start driving north to get to my appointment. I enter the address into my GPS in route. For some odd reason ‘her’ route is Woodman, which is just a traffic mishmash. I don’t know where I am going though so I listen to what ‘she’ says.
I get there, park, open the door, guide my leg out of my van and prop my right leg on the arm rest of the door so I can put the brace on that F3 has loaned me. Brace in place I hobble to my appointment. I reach the receptionist desk and they inform they have two offices and I am supposed to be at the other one.
R…”Do you still want to be seen?”
Me…”Yeah, kinda.” and I smile and wink at her.
R…”I’ll call them and tell them you are on the way.”
Me…”Thank you, Happy Holidays.”

I hobble out as fast as I can. I despise being late and making people wait on me. I find chronic lateness to be one of the rudest characteristics. I know it’s not my fault that I am late though so I release the hurry.

20 minutes later I get to the correct building and I meet an incredibly handsome older couple.
The Older Lady says to me…
…”Welcome to the party.”
Me…”Ha! It’s a party I didn’t really want an invite to but now that I have one I’m gonna make it the best party I ever went to.”
They both laugh and we all head to the same office as she and I discuss the importance of a very attractive purse on a woman’s arm. (I like her.)

I get to the receptionist area and they give me some forms to fill out. I peruse the forms and say…
…”Do I have to be honest about how much alcohol I intake on a weekly basis?”
Them…”I don’t think it’s as much as us, don’t worry about it.”
Thankfully that question was multiple choice.
I don’t finish all my paperwork and they tell me…
…”It’s ok, you have to tell the Doc everything anyway.”

The nurse comes in and tells me to put on these blue ‘short’s’ that are almost the same colour of the anterior of my knee. I tell her I put underpants on just for this special occasion. She laughed and told me
…”Thanks!”
The whole office is filled with pleasant people with great senses of humor….’cause it sucks when people don’t understand how funny I really am.

I have to get some X-Rays first.
The X-Ray Tech asks me if I am pregnant….You should laugh here…I did, almost to the point of hysterics!
She tells me to stand both feet together all the way up against this ‘thing’. It took about 2 min. for me to accomplish this task.
I then had to lay down on my side with my leg bent. I won’t lie this wasn’t pleasant.
I tell her…
…”I feel like such a hypochondriac. What if I’m just being a big baby and nothing is wrong?”
Tech…”We will find out.” But she said it with a smile like, ‘oh, girl, I have seen this before!’

With the X-Rays done I wait for the Doctor.
He comes in and is very personable. I like his bed side manner already. He has me lay down and takes my knee gently in his hands and starts moving it up and down…
Doc…”Relax.”
Me…”I’m trying.”
We had been joking and laughing up until this point.

Then he touched the inside of my knee so softly…yet in a place so tender that I ‘yelped’. That is the only adjective I can think of to describe the sound I made. Then I cried for the first time because the pain at that moment was unbearable. I say cried, I only let one tear out…refusing the Universe anymore than that. I hadn’t shed one tear, even when it happened I kept it together.
Doc…”I’m sorry.”
Me…”That’s ok. I can take it.”…and I could have as now I would be prepared.
Doc…”It’s like Mashed Potatoes in there. You tore your Medial Collateral Ligament (MCL) and I am pretty sure your Anterior Cruciate Ligament (ACL). We have to get an MRI to be sure but I can’t even find any thing remotely resembling your ACL. The part that hurt was where your MCL used to be.”
Me…”Ok, what do we do from here.”
Doc…”You start Physical therapy and get an MRI, that way I can be positive of the damage done. You need to be able to straighten out your leg and also bend it completely on your own.”
Me…”I take that as a personal challenge!”
He explains that after the surgery I will have a long recovery for what I would consider a light work out. Probably about 6 months of Physical therapy before I can just jog.

They fit me with a new bionic looking brace with hinges on the sides so I can move better.
I am so happy about this because I had pretty much been doing a one legged stair stepper up and down the four stories of my house with my left leg. I was really concerned my left ass cheek was going to get hard as a rock and my right ass cheek was going to waste away. Wheeeewww!!!! That was a close one!
Ahhh…vanity!:):):)

This is probably one of the most common sports injures. I know a few people that have had it happen to them. It’s not a big deal.

I’ll blog more about my cool appointments, don’t worry;).

Until then Ibuprofen, a couple of times a day as my knee is the size of a large grapefruit. Not for the pain, I can take that and frozen peas several times a day for 20 min.
Peas that I will never eat.

The Empath. Star date 12-18-2010

The other day I received news that one of the 3rd graders at my children’s school was in the hospital. This little girl is severely disabled mentally and physically. She doesn’t know any thing different than the way her life is. It’s just her life. I have no idea how as a parent you deal with having a child so disabled. I feel a great deal of pain for them. When I see her I want to cry. I don’t like to see others in pain and I know this little girl and her parents carry a great deal of pain, emotionally, and the little girl, physically.

There was a Star Trek episode in 1968 called ‘The Empath’. 

Capt. Kirk, Spock and McCoy end up on a planet with ‘Aliens’…Oooo, big surprise, right?

A summery of the story…

Some human like aliens torture Kirk to test another Alien, Gem. Gem, is a beautiful, scantly clad, deaf/ mute. She has a special power though, she’s an empath. She heals others pain by taking it within herself. They finish with Kirk and Gem heals him. Then they decide to take another. It ended up being McCoy. They torture him to the point of near death. Gem, is conflicted in healing him because she knows taking on his pain will put her close to death herself and she might not survive. She heals him, passes the test and all her people are deemed worthy of saving by the other Aliens.

I got hurt last night in JuJitsu class. Someone kicked me wrong by accident and a loud sound emanated from my right knee. I’m not mad or upset. It’s the cost of doing ‘business’ when you have a past time like mine. As an adult I haven’t gotten injured in a very long time. The Instructors and Students were kind and helpful. They got a brace for me and crutches and drove me home. Several of them checked in on me this morning. The Defense Institute is like a family and I am grateful to have them in my life.

When I was a child I was very accident prone, probably because I knew no fear.

I was playing hide and go seek once with my siblings and cousins. I was hiding on top of a wagon wheel and it fell on me. It broke my femur almost at my hip. I ended up in a body cast. I was in it for so long I had to learn to walk all over. The Doctors told my parents I would probably never walk normal again…and if you have ever seen my stride…I don’t walk normal…I walk like I am on a Cat Walk!…well not at this moment;)

I am typing this with my leg in a brace and ice on my knee. I have no idea if it’s a sprain or my ACL…the later scares me as my knee seems to wanna go every which way that it shouldn’t. I am also feeling a great deal of thanks for the health I DO HAVE and that of my families.
I like to keep a good perspective on things. A friend of mine this morning said…
…”Do you ever wonder why these things happen? Maybe someone is telling you to slow down.”
Me…”Yeah, I get it. At least I don’t have to drive my children to and from school for awhile.”
Him…”I’m seeing a great many more blogs in your future, ‘cause you have to stay put.”
Me…”HAhahhaahaaaa!”
When I called my parents my Dad answered and I told him what happened.
Dad…”You know people are going to say that you brought it on yourself.”
He follows on with a story about his friend who decided not to go sking because he didn’t want to injure himself.
Me…”I know Dad, but I could have done this slipping on ice.”
Me…”…and you know what, we can’t be afraid of getting hurt every time we leave the house. All I was doing was learning to defend myself. I have no regrets.”

I live in a house with 4 levels, that =’s a lot of stairs. I’m trying to figure out how to get laundry done, vacuum and in general run a household by myself now in my state. I will have to depend on friends to drive me around for a bit. I also know that it is a temporary state. Yeah, it will take a while to recover but it won’t be forever.

People live with physical disabilities all the time, forever, with no recovery…ever!

Having this happen to me reminded me to have even more empathy for others and their pain.

If something bad happens to me I always remember…
“Someone else has it worse.”
I don’t know if it’s the kindest thing to think but it keeps me straight, level and well grounded.

The books cover was judged...

A Woman approached me today. I had never met her before. She got out of her car to talk to me.
This Woman has balls that might be bigger than mine…or we just might use the same amount of duct tape to hide them;)

Her…”I wanted to apologize to you.”
Me…”What on earth for?”
Her…”I talked a lot of crap about you last year. I was very Katty (I have know idea how to spell that) and said some not very nice things about you. I’m sorry. I realized I was just jealous.”
Me…”Oh that’s ok, people have been talking crap about me for years, it doesn’t bother me.”
Her…”No, I’m really sorry because I don’t even know you. I wish I could look like you and not care what others think.”
Me…”Oh, well, I work out a lot but I want you to know I had Lipo on my thighs!”

We talk for a bit and I give her a hug.
Me…”You filled my love bucket.”
I explain my ‘Love Bucket' to her…It’s just my heart feeling overwhelmed with real love. My bucket is often over flowing and my Children say to me…
…”Mom, do you want to borrow my bucket for the extras?”

I think I have a new friend.

I do wonder what people say about me behind my back…I know I would be ‘ok’ with it…but the talk is there I have always known this. I see the way people look at me. I’m not stupid. I also know some just wanna chat but are scared!…remember….I’m a witch…I know all sorts of stuff. Hahahahhaha!

I walk around on this planet not ‘without a care in the World’… but with great care FOR the World and those that are inhabiting it. I just do it in my own special way.

I have this sweet little Mohawk right now. I feel like I look like I am walking around like I have my finger in the air. I don’t though…I just like my hair. I drive around in my cool MiniVan, go to Wal Mart, pick up my Children from school and I know people are looking at me like I need an express ticket to the looney bin.

I also hold the door for other women if they are right behind me, use good manners, dress nicely and respect other people.
Remember…I’m not looking at ME, they are. I forget I have my hair done like this all the time.
‘JoeSixPack’ texted me today…
…’Hey, what’s going on? What did you wear today.'
Me…'I’m on the way to Basketball practice and I look like I have ‘fuck you’ written on my face.’

I don’t…but sometimes I think I should. I had a bad week. Things aren’t going the way I want them to go for myself right now and I am frustrated with this world. I also realize that ‘hey, everything isn’t gonna be easy'.

When I see people in stores or out and about I enjoy interacting with them. I look into their eyes and smile my lovely smile and shine my bright white teeth at them. When I look at them I fill myself with all the love I can and transfer it to them. I’m amazed at what I get back.

I have friends with tattoos and /or piercings but most are incredibly ‘normal’ looking people that you can come across.
I have one friend that I call ‘the painted lady’. She has loads of tattoos on her body and they are BEAUTIFUL!…as is she. You can’t see them when she is dressed but I have seen her at the pool. I am jealous of her guts and balls to do what she has done to her body.

I have always wanted a tattoo…but I’m scared of what others might think.
I have always wanted a nose piercing but am afraid of what others might think.

When we see people and have no interaction with them it’s so easy to judge. We ALL are a books cover with stories behind it….

A Christmas song

Yule Tides Friends!
Watch this and be amazed at my brilliant kung fu esk skills!

I’m a WITCH!

I’m a Witch.
A real life one.
I’m a solitary eclectic practitioner. (That just means I follow my souls needs and desires as God/Goddess guides me and I belong to no coven….I don’t like others dogma attaching itself to me.)

Some Wiccan’s (That’s what we are also called) may not think me a ‘real’ witch because I don’t practice the same way they do.

Here is a ‘little' history lesson of The Church…not in order ‘cause then my blog wouldn’t make sense.

In 1517 when Martin Luther published his Ninety Five Theses the Protestant Reformation was born. Since then Christians have been branching out and interpreting the bible to suit their own needs. (Actually they have been doing that for 2000 years;)
Do the very fine differing points of each sect of the Protestant religious groups make the others not true or real?

I sat here and typed out a whole bunch of stuff about Emperor Constantine but deleted it all as I think I am the only one interested in all this stuff sometimes…So I am sparing you…Thank me later.

Note…I later did type all that stuff on the big bad Emperor and I posted it.
http://behindthebookscover.blogspot.com/2011/01/constantinenot-keanu-reeves.html

There is a time called the Ante-Nicene Era. This would be the time before the meeting of the Council Of Nicea. There were a great many of Religions and belief systems actively engaged in the Roman Empire. Christianity, several Pagan religions, Judaism and more…People were tolerant of each others Religions at that time, mostly. This was the beginning of the Christian movement though and wasn’t looked on highly. The Christians were being persecuted by the Pagans.
April 17th 6 BC is the date many scholars believe Jesus was born. The reason we celebrate Christmas on December 25th was so the Christians could disguise the celebration of the birth of Christ under the shadow of the Celebration of the Winter Equinox/ Saturnalia / Yule…what ever name you want to give it.
You STOLE my Holiday! Not really you just had to hijack it so you wouldn’t get killed or maimed by those crazy Pagans.
It’s ok…you showed us big time with the Malleus Maleficarum and all those awesome Witch Trials…

I get many questions regarding what I believe AND questions about World Religions. I love the topic of Religions and Belief Systems, sociologically and anthropologically it fascinates me.

I believe in Heaven and Hell but I believe they exist in peoples hearts and souls.
I think the reality of our souls future we create in this life time plays out for a while when we pass on and then we come back here to grow and learn from our lessons of past lives.
I believe in the same God you do.
I don’t care what you believe in or if you are Hindu, Christian or Muslim . I believe we share the same Creator. We just all interact differently with our Creator.

Catholics pray to Saints, not just God. Buddhists and Hindus have multiple Gods they pray to. I think there is an Energy in beings and names and we use that Energy to manifest whatever it is we need/want.
The Norse, Greek, Egyptian, Celtic, ect…Gods/Goddess carry an Energy as well and I use those Energies on a daily basis.

God is in each and every one of us.

Religion is very important to me as is my belief system.
HARM NONE!
We also have a 3 fold.
For every good you do it will be returned to you 3 fold. For every harm it will be returned to you 3 fold. I have been delighted to feel the fold of good and horrified by the harm on others I have inflicted and felt the 3 fold there as well. Not a pleasant experience.

I came out of the proverbial ‘Broom Closet’ years ago. My parents know, my children know, as do my friends. Some of my best friends are Born Again Christians. I think they pray for me a lot!
My Children like to guess what my secret powers are…the other day it was burping and we all had a good laugh.
I can’t read your mind, don’t worry. I can read your body language though.
I don’t have X-Ray vision but I see your Aura.
Those things aren’t secrets...

I love a good Spell. A Spell is just another word for a prayer.
I do them for myself and for others if they ask me. I won’t make a Spell to harm another or to make someone do something.
I take time everyday to be grateful and thank God/Goddess for everything that surrounds me, the tangible and intangible.

When I send ‘Love and Light’ to another I am sending them the Light of God and all my Love, of which  is very powerful for I am filled with the Love of God/Goddess.

I respect your reality of what you believe, and hope you are educated not just by the words in a book but by history.
I pray you respect mine as well.

My second try at MasterChef…not as good as my first try...

Have you ever wanted something so badly you could taste it? Knowing that God created something just for you?

When I first tried out for MasterChef I made it quite far. I didn’t blog about that in my last MasterChef blog…but I made it far. Not ON TO the show but I was happy with how far I DID make it.

This time around was a whole new ball game. The Casting Crew is different as is the Production Company. Same place though, The Culinary Institute in Denver. It only takes an hour to get there and I had a time slot.

Last night I started on my dish.

Chinese Spaghetti, it sounds strange but is really good. Remember, Marco Polo brought pasta back from China TO Italy. Then the Italians ‘made it their own’…different flavors but it looked the same.

Chinese Spaghetti
Ground Pork- I grind my own pork. I want a very lean pork so I use a pork Tenderloin. I remove the   sinew and grind away.
1 lg can of crushed tomatoes

3 Star of Anise
5 Spice Powder (maybe 2tsp…I don’t measure)
Salt


I make my own spice mixes but you can buy yours already if you want…I won’t talk to much smack.

Cook the ground pork then add the tomatoes and spices.  Cook on med/low heat for 45min to an hour. 
Serve over pasta
Top with 
Celery, Green onion, carrot, omelet, and Sambal Oelek.


So I go and I have everything I need. My food is awesome. The tasters said so. The casting crew weren’t that into me and I could tell right away. They weren’t mean, they were very nice, looking for a specific look and story. I actually wore my hair normal as I wanted my FOOD to stand out, my personality is always there, I can’t do anything about THAT!
The tasters didn’t ask a lot of questions about food like they did last year and I said to one of them…
Me…”Ask me anything. I have the answers.”
Him…”How many planets are in the solar system?”
Me…”8.”
I was and still am insulted. I know a great deal about food.

They collect our applications and photos and say…
…”If I don’t call your name you can go. It doesn’t mean we aren’t interested in you, I just have more questions for the others.”
My name was NOT called. I leave and get in my cool minivan and say to my self…
…”Self, this is a reality show, that has cooking too."

One of my friends told me last year that the reason he didn’t think I made it on the show was because I have nothing to loose. I still have NOTHING to loose, only gain.

Some of my readers might not realize that I CAN cook. I’m not just good, I’m GREAT at it. If I have ever cooked for you, you can attest to this fact. Yes, I screw sometimes but everyone does. But on an absurd average I rock the kitchen. I can back up all my talk with mad skills. (This is confidence not cockiness.)

When one door closes another opens and if it’s not a door and just a window I’m skinny, I’m pretty sure I will be able to squeeze through.

Occam’s Razor

I wake up at 5:30 most mornings, not to get to a job but to read and drink coffee…lot’s and lot’s of coffee. I read the newspaper first. I love the feel of turning it’s pages and how it stains the tips of my fingers a charcoal grey. After I finish the paper I turn on my Mac and start REALLY reading the news. I love knowing what’s going on…I don’t care what it is. I just like knowing stuff.

This morning I came across an amazing story about a discovery in Indonesia. Real life Hobbits were fed on by giant Storks. These Storks were 6 feet tall!

You can read about it on this link…
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/40577049/ns/technology_and_science-science/

My children a veracious readers like me. I have tons of Children’s books for them to choose from. I also like for them to have books and tales from their birth countries. I think they enjoy them the most.

My daughter has a book called, The Voyage Of The Poppykettle. This is a Peruvian tale of tiny little people and their adventure of crossing the pacific after the Spanish invaded Peru. They sail the sea in a Poppykettle. A poppykettle is a traditional Peruvian drink holder. I have several I got while I was in Peru. This is a poppykettle———>
They 'dodge ferocious iguanas near the Galapagos  Islands, getting lost on perilous reefs….finally their kettle comes to rest in a strange new land the can call home-Ausltralia.’


Several things popped into my head when I read about the giant Storks and Hobbit like people.

Mythical Creatures and where they come from…
I think about weird stuff.

Unicorns, the Minotaur, Dragons…


Real Unicorns have been sited…———————>
Yes, I know it’s a Deer….keep reading though...

We all know real Dragons exist. They may not breath fire or know how to fly but their saliva is poisonous and paralyzes it’s prey. They can swim fantastic distances between islands and they are very, very mean. I’m talking about Komodo Dragons of course.

Imagine yourself long ago traveling across the seas to discover things and places. You’re weary of travel and hungry. You come across an Island and set anchor. You get in your little boat and you start to row to the Island. Beads of sweat drip into your eyes, your calloused hands burning each time you pull back the oars. You finally land and start foraging for food. All of the sudden you hear a scream from one of your ship mates. Much to your horror creatures you have never seen before are attacking your friend and begin to eat him. You and the others jump into your little row boat….and the Dragons follow you…all the way to your ship.

……

Logic dictates a lot to me. Some may not think I’m logical but I AM!

Occam’s Razor. The term razor (the German "Ockhams Messer" translates to "Occam's knife") refers to distinguising between two theories either by "shaving away" unnecessary assumptions or cutting apart two similar theories.

…YUP!…
What if all these ‘mythical creatures’ existed. Dinosaur bones found during medieval times… What did they think when they found this MASSIVE femur? and then heard the story passed down about the Komodo Dragons?

The story of the hairy little Peruvians…and now they find a cave with the bones of these little people and giant Storks….

I’m gonna say it again….

…YUP!…that’s what I’m sayin’!

Adventures of my Hair

The hair on top of my head is experimented with often...

I love to change my hair, colour more than cut. I prefer short hair on myself. I like to be 'shower to door' in 30 min. or less. Short hair makes that easier.

When I was in high school it was the 80’s and I had long curly hair. I got a perm every few months to keep up the curls…I loved it. But I always was doing something different with it. I loved putting it in braids…not so I would stand apart from the person I was standing next to but because it was fun.



This is me at 16….—---------------------------->



After high school I kept things a little more ‘normal’ because of my job and school.
I got married and cut it all off, man short some would say and kept it my natural brown.

I remember the first time I bleached my hair. When I say me, I mean my friend came over and ‘helped' me. There we were in my kitchen with 5 little people running around laughing our asses off about my hair. We were living in Japan and couldn’t find toner anywhere and if we could, we couldn’t read if it was or wasn’t. I ended up with BANANA YELLOW hair! It was a Friday and I so went out with it anyway. I don’t have a picture…sorry.

On my 36th birthday my now Ex was out of town and I wanted to do something different in the little southern GA town I was living…ya know, “Get out of the box and kick it to the curb”. I don’t know if I could have kicked it any farther in Valdosta, GA!
 I loved that colour hair on me. So did the 9 year old girls I came across. Everyone else just looked at me like I had buggers hanging from my nose. I have found that no matter what I wear or what my hair looks like people always look at me strangely.

My hair goes through a myriad of colours. I have loved almost all my hair Stylists I have had in the past and now….but there was this one time...
I was trying to grow out my hair…that didn’t work out. That was the time I was trying to save money…

don’t do that. I had this
hair style—>
I went to get my roots done and the ‘stylist’ using the term lightly, very lightly…used a bleach mix to strong.

She was brushing my hair out and it was breaking off. Thankfully not at the roots. She was in denial. I wasn’t. I sat in the chair shocked as her brush was filling up with my hair.
I told her…
…”Just cut it all off. I can handle it and you are lucky I’m not some psycho bitch. I am paying you nothing.”

She was one lucky woman. I was lucky too ‘cause I can wear really short hair.



I decided to give a new hair stylist a try. It’s much more expensive now but at least my hair isn’t going to break off and freak me out.
She is not JUST a hair stylist..she is a hair GODDESS. I walk in and say…
…”Do what ever you want, let’s have some fun.”
She like to give me a faux hawk when she styles it. This time however I wanted the closest thing I could get to a mohawk with out looking ridiculous…through my eyes. I don’t care what others think;)

<————So this is what ‘we’ did today. It’s a pity you can’t see all the cool colours …bits of black and red…Super fun.

Hair can be an adventure if you are willing to let go of the constraints society has placed on us. …and if you don’t like it, it will eventually grow out.

Let go…Live a little...

Cranberry Sauce and leftovers…:/

I love being able to make a variety of things from any leftovers I have from any meal, completely transforming them into something unique to the last meal that they were consumed.

Pot Roast…transformed into Thai Beef and Butternut Squash Curry…Ropa Veja…
A Roasted Chicken, Roast Pork…The ideas to many to name…Pick a Country!
I love food.


Cranberry Sauce, I LOooooVE it! The jellied kind from a can, home made…I don’t care. Not many people like the whole berry kind I have found and I am always left with loads leftover and I enjoy a challenge to use it in different ways.
It makes a marvelous cocktail when strained. Add Vodka and cranberry juice.
The other day I didn’t have cranberry juice so I poured 1TBs of the strained liquid into a glass of Voigner (a white wine) added a splash of OJ and a Splash of citrus flavored vodka. Holy Kamolie that shit was good!

So…I have all this leftover cranberry sauce…I’m making some stuff out of it.

Please see Thanksgiving Recipes Blog for Cranberry Sauce.

Today however I wanted to make Pumpkin Cranberry Bread…Sorry no recipe as I was busy and forgot to write it down. I will make it again though ‘cause it was fabulous.
I also wanted to make some fudge….
Chocolate Cranberry Fudge!
It didn’t ‘pan’ out like I planned so now I have this amazingly delicious chocolate cranberry mess and I am brainstorming what to do with it as I blog.

Sweets are not my expertise so I challenge myself maybe even more when it comes to them…pushing the limits.
…and if anyone has ever eaten my Peppermint Rose Cakes…well, you either like it or you don’t!
…or my Tempura fried Chocolate Cake…Hahahhaaaa. We were drunk, what can I say. I had a chocolate cake in front of me, left over Tempura batter and hot oil. Hellloooooo….what did you think I would do?!

I took the Chocolate Cranberry ‘Fudge’ and whipped it up, truffles are OUT!…I have a chocolate cranberry mess now…
I am thinking of Challah Bread….A Chocolate Cranberry semi Challah bread….
I’ll let you know how it turns out.

Therapy

Please don’t read this Daddy…Mom, you can read it…I’m YOUR daughter!

Therapy is code word in ‘our world’ for...lets get drinking!

I started my day strong…work done and Snuggie purchases for my children for Christmas completed. I was busy running errands…aka…looking at Uggs in Dillards and purses at T.J.Maxx, when I got a text from my friend…
…’Chicken Tortilla soup and therapy, my house…now.’
Me…’let me finish up and I’ll be there.’
12:30 I show up and already they are eating and drinking.
Me…”Shit…really? So early…OK…”
F4…”What did you think we were doing?”
Me…”Pour me one.”…as I grab a bowl of soup...

Chicken Tortilla Soup
4Tbs butter
1 sml onion chopped
1/2 C flour
1 Box chicken broth
1 lg garlic clove, chopped
2tsp cumin
1 tsp chili powder
1/2 tsp Italian seasoning
1/2 tsp paprika
1/2 tsp cayenne
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
 1-2 cans more chicken broth, for desired tickness
1 8oz can diced tomatoes
2 15 oz cans kidney beans
2 15 ox cans whole kernel corn, drained
2 cooked chicken breasts


In Med-lg sauce pan melt butter. Add onion, saute till tender. Stir in flour. Gradually add chicken broth. Combine the rest of the ingredients. Serve with tortilla chips, cheese, sour cream, cilantro, jalapenos and avacado…whoop, whoop!

I have no idea how it started, our conversation that is. We are not normal, or, maybe we are and ALL women are like this.

You tell me…

Somehow we get on the subject of waxing. No idea how.
Me…”Yeah, I’d love a reason to get a good wax.’
F1…”You don’t even have a lot of hair?”
We look at her like she is out of her mind. We spend a lot of time together, but NOT that much time.
F1…”I shaved my arms when I was 12. Someone told me it was going to grow back twice as thick. I was so scared!”
Me…”I’m not talking about my arms.”
We continue with body dysmorphia and self esteem issues.
Every woman has some form of body dysmorphia and esteem issues. I don’t care how beautiful and skinny they are.
F1…”I remember when I was a kid I was singing in my bedroom and my Dad came up stairs and said, ‘Is that a broken record?’… I have never wanted to sing in public since.”

Ok parents, the things we say to our children stay with them for a life time! Watch what you say. F1 has an amazing voice, but she hates to sing…because of what her dad said to her.

She goes on to talk about the lack of affection in her house growing up.
F1…”I did lick you on the face the other night though.”
Me…”Yeah, it was really nice, thanks for that.”
F4…”Did you know if you lick perfume and it’s sweet you are supposed to wear it?”
Us…”Are you supposed to lick the head of it?…”
…”and if it’s sweet are you supposed to put it all the way in?”
We start discussing oral sex…
yada, yada, yada…
Are you men mad that I typed out the ‘yada’s’ and didn’t go on?…Hahahhahahha!

Puking and drinking….
A couple months ago some of us had gone out. I was the driver. Several hours into the night F1 starts feeling her dinner…again. I tell her to go take care of it, she will feel better. She does and comes back.
F1…”I’m gonna drive, you can start drinking.”
My favorite bartender…”Porn Star Dirty?”
Me…”Uh Huh!”
I like my bartender…he knows it.
F5…”I used to puke all the time…made room for more alcohol.”
F1…”I’m glad I did puke that night. I blew 0 in the breathalyzer when the cop stopped me.”

F4’s Spouse shows up. It’s around 1:00 now.
…”What the fuck is going on?”
Us…”We are in therapy, we can drink at ours."
He starts taking off his pants as we look at him…
…”…you better have something on under there.”
F4S…”Chill out girls, I do.”
…”I have to go to therapy.’
F4S…”You all better be here at 4 when I get back. I wanna have fun too.”
Poor guy…we continue with our afternoon party before we head to pick up the children from school. Mine are with their Dad on Friday, so I don’t have anything to worry about.

F4 pours F1 and F5 some frosty beverages…slushy is probably a better adjective.  F1 starts sticking her tongue in the glass and laps up her slush like a cat…I think she started purring, I’m not sure.
F4…”Watch out you might get a brain freeze.”
F5…”That’s what happened to me last night. I had Margaritas for dinner.”
F1…”I had Vodka and lemonade.”
Me…”I had Shiraz.”
F4…”I had pizza bites and mickey mouse chicken fingers…and loads of white wine.”

Then, much to my horror Stoffers Lasagna comes up and the schedules of our Children and carting them to and fro.
How much they would make if they got paid for doing their job…we came up with 180,000.
We start texting F2 and F3…they are not here yet…
…”What could be more important than therapy?…Where are they?”
F2 finely shows up, and files her bowl of Chicken Tortilla Soup and starts drinking.
There is a knock at the door…F3…”I’m here, the party can start now!”
Us…”You better get with the ‘program’…we’ve been here all day!”

Conversation starts back up and I tell them about a guy I know and what he said to me the other day…
…”If I could suck my own dick I’d never leave the house.”
me…”I believe you. I wonder how Dogs get anything done since all they do is lick their balls all day.”
He laughed and agreed.
F1…”I can lick my own nipples.”
So of course we all reach down and grab one of our breasts and stick our tongues out.
YUP! We can all do it.
One of them says…
…”I wonder…?" as she tries to fold herself in half…
…”Nope, I guess I should start taking yoga.”
F4…”He loves to pluck the hairs around my nipples.”
Yes, I am blogging this.
Women have to take care of things, it’s usually done privately though.
F1…”I don’t think I have nipple hair.” she looks down in her shirt...
Me…”Maybe ‘cause yours are Bionic?”
F1…”Ha!…you’re funny. I do have a bit in between my breasts though, I pluck them.”

It’s almost time for the bell to ring so the others head to the school (it’s up the street) to pick up all the little people sans mine.
F3 drives me to my place so I can pick up dinner for the ‘adults’. I head to the freezer and grab some frozen meat sauce, frozen zucchini bread and a crap load of fudge I made the other day and we head to the play ground. There are many more of us now…Mom’s that is.
We stand around and talk and joke. We sing Happy Birthday to F2’s son as he looks on mortified. I invite the attractive gay guys that we always see walking their dog to join us, they decline, their loss;)
The sun starts heading behind the peak and the temperature drops 10 degrees instantly…we move on down back to F4’s house.
It’s 5 now…officially.
The little people run downstairs to get their groove on. We all gather around the island and continue with our ‘event’…with many more now.
I had stopped taking notes by now. I have to take notes sometimes….and I even edited this blog!
Edit, Edit, Edit.

A new Mom shows up. I feel bad for her. She seems nice, but we are a handful. It’s always uncomfortable to be the ‘new’ chick.

F4’s and F2’s spouse are there now. I think they are in heaven.
In my drunkin’ state I text a friend and tell him he needs to come visit me. I kept it clean. But I can’t help it, this man is delicious…so….
...We start talking about sex again….

Me…”Whatever, I’m not getting emotionally attached to any one! Screw that drama.”
F3…”Kristin, you are such a ‘dude’.”
Me…”Ok."

I have many friends, many really good friends that I think if I showed up with blood all over me because I had killed someone they would help me hide the body. I never had a lot of time to spend with my friends though. Since I moved here my friends that I have met and made spend an absurd amount of time together.
Nothing is off limits.

Eliminate the threat, change the focus...

My friend came to me one day and invited and me and several of our other friends to her new gym so we could try a kickboxing class. I am always up for trying something new and I am in relatively good shape so I thought it would be fun. I had never kicked something before and had never put on a pair of boxing gloves. I had no clue what I was doing.
(I often have no clue what I am doing if you have noticed…I just do it now.)
The class was fabulous and the instructor hilarious. My friend also invited me to another class there, Street Tactics. The gym is called The Defense Institute, Street Tactics class is where we learn VeArnis JuJitsu, it’s a form of self defense. I loved my first class and kept coming back for more.

I figure I am a single woman with no man to ‘protect me’ and if I ever meet a man I want him to know I can take care of myself.

Sensei puts us in real world scenario’s: muggings from all angles, someone just bumping into us and trying to start a fight, to someone pulling a knife or a gun on us. When he has someone mugging me in a choke hold he often yells…
“CHOKE HER!” and that they do. It’s not ‘fun’, it’s realistic.
We learn to defend ourselves, to eliminate the threat and change the focus, all the while we have to watch out for multiple attackers. We attack each other with force and you better get out of the way or you WILL get hit. I can’t tell you how often I feel like a retarded wombat in class. I’m only a beginner and I feel so STUPID.
I also feel very powerful and feminine, yes, feminine.
I’m small. The majority of the Instructors and Students are men. I get thrown around like a rag doll when I have to play the part of the attacker. I get my hair pulled hard and when I end up on the ground the Police Officer Students inevitably put me in some lock with their knee in my back. Once a guy threw me across the room by accident when I was the attacker. (I like being the attacker.)
…”What the fuck bitch that’s my fucking parking place!” That’s only one example of the way we speak to each other, real world.
It’s not a nice fight that he teaches us and I have found that I don’t mind getting hit or having bruises on the strangest parts of my body. When I get hurt I say, “That was awesome!” When I say it I mean that I can take it, bring it ON!
I also like knowing one day I will be able to defend myself…
We laugh often in class and my Sensei always changes it up so we don’t get in a rut. He even has us do one minute ’smack talk drills’. It’s hard to talk smack for a whole minute. I keep a notebook of HIT drills and patterns…that I should probably look at more often.

After the first couple months I attended belt testing. I had only been a student for a couple of months so I was not up for a belt but was told to attend anyway. No one told me what to expect except that it was three hours long. It was three hours of balls to the wall pushups, jumping jacks, sit ups and attacks. NO bathroom breaks and NO water breaks…there were buckets placed out just in case someone needed to puke.

You can ask my friends and my Mother how much I love Street Tactics. I’m always talking about what I learned and encouraging others to take the class.

Belt testing is this month. I was really looking forward to it, ridiculous I know. Who would want to put themselves through three hours of hell?
I would.

I was looking at my schedule for the month this morning knowing I had some conflicts but I knew I couldn’t remember them all. I realized there was no way I was going to make belt testing. I have my children that day. I thought maybe I could switch with my Ex. I thought I had only two things for the children that day. I opened our shared calendar (my Ex and I share an on-line calendar so we can keep track of things) and saw that my Daughter has her Holiday piano recital at 3pm. There is no way I can do both.
I was upset at first. Then I came to the realization that Street Tactics for me isn’t about the belt. It’s about the real world knowledge my instructors teach me, the empowerment and the discipline.

I’m 'Barbie'

This question is for my FB friends who aren’t my AF friends.
Did you ever wonder why some people call me ‘Barbie'?

Right after I had gotten married we moved to Valdosta, Ga, Moody AFB. They were moving the 41st RQS from Patrick AFB (Cocoa Beach, Fl) to Moody. My Ex was on the Advon team (that’s military speak for the first to arrive and set up shop).
I was new to the whole Military thing and had no idea what I had gotten into. We arrive and meet the DO, or XO (2nd in Command) and his spouse. The CC (Commander) hadn’t arrived yet with their family. They, the DO and spouse, are a very nice couple. My Ex then was a Captain.

For ease sake on my part I will refer to the DO’s spouse as B and the CC’s spouse as A from here on out.

This was a life time ago for me.

I’m gonna talk smack here.

A’s wife was one of Satan’s pawns in disguise. (Some of you know who I am talking about. I know she was good to some of you but she was the epitome of cruelty and power hungry towards some of us.)  She wasn’t even there and directing us to what we could and couldn’t do. I felt horrible for B and bad for me too. I had never encountered anyone like her. The mean girl syndrome burned through her faster than the CSRM’s (Cool Spring’s Ranch Mom’s) burn through a bottle of Vodka (the big kind) when she was angry.
Most AF spouses in Sqd’s get together once a month for ‘coffee’s' or 'socials’. We hardly ever drank coffee. We would chat, get to know one another, plan events discuss raising money, eat and drink. Once after a social she called me and started yelling at me. Telling me I was in no place to suggest a different venue for something. She yelled at me, a Capt.’s wife, for nothing other than I put an idea in the minds of others. I was shaking I was so mad. It went on and on like that. I can only guess what she was saying to B, I knew she wasn’t nice to her either.
I found a few friends in that group, friends I still have to this day but I had to look else where to fill my ’social network’.
I was 25 and became President of the Officers Wives Club. I met some fabulous women that belonged to different Sqd’s and I loved it. The majority of them were fighter pilot’s wives. They taught me to play Crud, and taught me to be one of the best players;)!!!
Side note and my awesomeness…I won so many Crud tournaments it was silly. Up against some very big men (Pilots) who got very upset when they realized it was just me and them…last one’s standing. I lost some too, but i like to remember my win’s. I once won the Langley spring Crud Tourney…have the beer mug to prove it;)
All the Pilots have ‘call signs’…You know like the one’s in Top Gun. That shit is real.
The OWC was having it’s annual Thrift Shop Fashion Show. Yes, we did stuff like that. Who do you think used to run the Thrift Shops on base? We did of course.
I was dressed in this amazing bright pink dress, something you would have put a Barbie doll in the 80’s. We were playing Crud after and I was still wearing the Barbie dress.
All the ladies decided we would come up with names for each other.
I became ‘Barbie’. The dress was only one of the reasons they named me ‘Barbie’. I can’t tell you the other’s.

Time passed A and B moved on and so did I.
My spouse moved up in the ranks and years later I found myself as a DO’s wife. This time though things were different. The CC’s wife was/still is an amazing leader and true friend. We were yin and yang. She taught me a great deal. She was/is so different than me. I think that was why we worked well as a team.
Leadership changed and we all moved…back to our old stomping ground, Moody AFB. This time however I was the wife of the Commander. I knew how I wanted things to work by now. I wanted the spouses, officers and enlisted to work together as a team and create something THEY wanted.
When I arrived there was only a small group in place that the DO’s spouse had put together. (She had run into the kind of problem I had but opposite of mine last time I was there. The Spouse before me didn’t want anyone getting together, maybe she thought it was silly, I can only guess).  So I hit up the secretary and then spent weeks on the phone trying to contact everyone. The DO’s spouse was fantastic in helping get everything together.
Yada, yada, yada…
We finally had a cohesive group together and everyone played a part if they wanted. They could say anything to me, good, bad or ugly.
It wasn’t my group, it was theirs.
When one of them would come up with an idea I would tell them, “Make it your own.”
They ended up saying, “You mean do it ourselves.”
That is exactly what I meant too. I was there for a short amount of time. They needed to have ownership.
Their were some who didn’t want to be a part of it. That was fine with me and whenever they needed me I would be there for them.
There were probably lot’s that didn’t like me.  I can be very fun and overbearing I know this. I knew I couldn’t make everyone happy.
There was ONE thing I wanted to do VERY MUCH though…
Have a proper naming ceremony for the girls.
‘Rack’ hosted, ‘Peep' cooked and ‘Junk’ and I put together the ROE (rules of engagement)
All the spouses were invited.
We did ton’s of jello shots and held extra large glow sticks as we told stories of each other so we could come up with names.
One of the girls had a Henna tattoo artist come in so most of us were half dressed waiting for our henna to dry.
We had a lot of rules…Some were ridiculous so I won’t share them all.

The trend continued and the next year we invited other Sqd’s to join in, and they did so with flare!
This time it was a ‘ChinaDoll’s’ house. The fire burned as the names were called out.

These women took this tradition, (twice is a tradition isn’t it?) and ‘made it there own’ when they moved to other bases. It has morphed to fit the needs of those involved.

If I told you I was proud it would not be because of what I started but what these women have become. Leaders, friends and the greatest spouses the Air Force could ask for. In time of need they are there for each other. That need is paramount now when with the op’s temo and the danger that their spouse’s are in is on a daily basis.

A toast to you my friends and military spouses everywhere…and the dear friends we have lost…may we all meet on the other side and drink together once again.

"Here's to you old friend, may you live a thousand years,

Just to sort of cheer things up, in this vale of human tears;

And may I live a thousand too-a thousand-less one day,

Because I wouldn't want to be on earth, and hear you'd passed away.”

A bit of my Childhood…and Pan Am and the Holiday Season...

I was talking to someone the other day and they asked me..
A…”Where are you from?”
This is a loaded question that I have no answer for.
Me…”I suppose I am a child of this planet.”

I was born in the bush in Liberia in 1971…there was a little hospital there.
I like to say ‘the bush’…it sounds cool. I like to sound cooler than I really am.

At the time we were living there things were peaceful and stable. This is before Samuel Doe starts off a bloody chain reaction that rips this wonderful country and people to pieces for the next 20+ years.

My father traveled back there several years ago for work. He came back home to us and told us our old house had been destroyed by mortar shells and he couldn’t find any of the people that used to work for our family. When I say worked for our family I mean the driver, the houseboy, the night watchmen and such…It sounds like we were rich doesn’t it? We weren’t. We were piss poor. We were in a Third World country though and the dollar went farther there.
If you ever ask me what my dad did for work I’ll tell you what I know. He was an Air Traffic Controller for Pan Am. However because of all the places he had to go the joke in the family was, “We know what your Dad does, he works for The Company.’”
I just had to call my Daddy and had to ask him if I could actually blog about this.
Me…”Dad, before I type all this out can you be honest with me? Did you work for the CIA?”
In the back of my friends that know my parents, family members and my mind we always wondered… an Ex Marine that speaks several languages and has contacts all over the world…
D…”You know I couldn’t tell you if I did or didn’t.”
I laugh.

The other day my middle son asked me if I knew anyone that worked for the CIA and I said…
…”I can confirm nor deny that, Bug.”

Me…”I know THAT Dad. I just don’t want to blog about something and get someone in trouble.”
D…”You can blog about anything you want, honey, I can handle myself.” He says to continue his myth.

My Dad, my older Brother and myself are three of THE biggest bull-shiters in the world. Into and out of trouble we bull-shit our way through life.

We moved and spent a few years living on Long Island. We still had no money and we were a family of 6 now. They had ‘friends’ that got things for them that had  ‘fallen off the truck’. We ate ground sirloin because of my parents ‘friends’.

My family moved to Oman. We lived there for 8 years. I spent my formative years living as a minority in an amazing country. We lived in Oman when the Iran Iraq war broke out and things changed drastically. We were no longer allowed to play ‘war’ because of the gunman on top of our building. We ended up roller skating a lot and looking for other trouble to get in. We got into a lot of trouble.

He really did work for Pan Am, I should clarify this. If we wanted to go somewhere he would bring home a stack of tickets and he would fill them out. We traveled for free all over the world. Cool Huh?! We still had no money. When we traveled we stayed with friends or at ‘Bug and Boards’, that was code for a cheap hotel. We also ate at ‘Choke and Pukes’.

I love Pan Am, even to this day. My memories of the dessert cart in First Class (when room was available), the really nice flight attendants (really nice because we were all Family), not to mention the friends I have to this date because of Pan Am.
I don’t miss getting bumped off flights because there was no room and having to sleep in the Bahrain International Airport on the hard plastic orange chairs...that were contoured so you couldn’t lay across them. Or any of the other Airports we got stuck in so numerous to count and name.
I wonder how my Mom did it. It was usually just her and us four Children as she traveled the globe as my Dad worked. She once took us to HongKong for a week. You know what I remember the most? The Eels in buckets on the docks and because I had the flu and she was busy shopping, her putting me in some corner of a shop so she could get her snake skin shoes made. I remember a lot more than that but this is MY Mother….I am SO her Daughter. This was also the woman that made us read, ‘The Ugly American’. A lesson in a book I’m sure you should all read.

One day we ended up in what is now called Mumbai, I’m old though, back then it was called Bombay. I don’t think it was a planned stop. My father was with us this time. I was probably 7 or 8 and remember it well. The memories, colours and smells vivid in my mind.
People were living in boxes on the side of the street, foul with the smell of human waste. Live animals, I’m not talking dogs and cats, I think they had all been eaten, were roaming aimlessly. I remember being so sad and thinking that there was nothing I could do to help. It was dark but the sky was orange, everything else the colour of dirt. I felt assaulted everywhere I turned, the smell’s, the sadness, their inescapable way of life. I just wanted to hide behind the powerful, giant figure that I called, ‘Daddy’.
I had been going to Souqs for years. Who knows what we had bought from the vendor on the kabob stick! So, not a lot bothered me even at a young age. This was different though. They weren’t the homeless people I see here in Colorado on the street today. These people were different and yet they weren’t, they were just like us. Born in different circumstances than ours. There were lepers all over the place and just normal people trying to make some kind of end’s meet asking my Dad for change, anything. Can you imagine their life? I can’t and I saw it. I had never wanted to run and hide so badly. I knew they were just like me, just born in a different country to different parents. Being born in Liberia, I could have been born to any number of couples….who knows how God works?
I hadn’t lived a sheltered life by any means. I remember crying. The people that crossed our path then are  probably all gone by now. Choosing another life to live in another time perhaps. I hope they are at peace now.

I had seen more than most at even this young age. The things I have seen, where I am from, where ever that is, have shaped part of me to be who I am today.

My parents have the most wonderful stories and have lived the most fascinating lives and thankfully they  carted us along.

If you are reading this, I don’t care how poor you think are. You are amongst the richest 1% of the people on the planet.

The Holiday Season has begun. Not to put a damper on your big purchase, but have you ever thought of donating even $5.00 to some group that makes a difference in the world? I don’t care which one. I speak for no group.
As a ‘child of this planet’ and the mother of three amazing adopted children, one of which came from a place so poor the majority of the people there lived on a dirt hill in boxes with no running water, just like those in Mumbai…
You could have been born to anyone on this planet, King or Queen, Popper or Stable hand. Think about it, then do something.

Thanksgiving Day

Thanksgiving is such a brilliant Holiday. We don’t have to buy each other a bunch of crap we don’t need and as a non religious holiday I can guarantee the date wasn’t stolen from the Wiccan’s.
Yup, true story but another blog...

Anyway…

I get to my friends house late. I actually thought I was on time. I had sent my ex a text in the am and told him 1:30 at F1’s. I knew I should have re-read the thread, but I have been busy with crazy stuff on my brain.
I walk in the door and they start giving me a hard time…We were supposed to EAT at 1:30. I’m not worried I know they will survive. I designate F3’s husband to carve the Turkey and as he does so I say…
…”Sorry I didn’t bring a real knife.”

I throw my dressing in the oven that she has preheated for me and I start the gravy. I know the dressing will be done by the time the Turkey is sliced.

F2…”How long did you cook the Turkey?”
I look at my Ex and he looks at me and we laugh.
Me…”Well, that’s kinda funny.”
My M In law, whom I love in my own special way even to this date, came to visit us for Thanksgiving when we were in Japan. She was a bit worried and up-set with me because I started cooking the Turkey so late. She didn’t think it would be ready in time. I don’t get up super early and throw the Turkey in the oven. I use the science of Alton Brown and I swear by it! I have cooked so many Turkeys some would think it’s ridiculous.
I promised her it would be awesome, moist and COOKED!
And it was perfect. She worried the whole time though.
I tell my Children...
...“Older people sometimes think they know more because they have been on this planet longer but if you are sure of something stand up for yourself…with respect to them though.”
Me…”I cook it till it reaches 161. Then take it out of the oven"…Refer to Thanksgiving recipe blog.

As F3’s husband carves the Turkey, I marvel at my skills. Yes, even I am shocked at how good my Turkey turns out, every time.

'Linner' is set and ready.
Ex…”We should just eat and let the children play while we eat in peace.”
He’s a ‘thinker’ in my mind.
F1…”But then they will come up and bug us while we are eating.”
Everyone…”Ok…someone go get them.”
We make sure they have what they need and send them to their cool all by themselves table. A table set up in the Garage surrounded by Christmas lights and space heaters…F1 rolls cooler than the average suburban human!
No one ever wants to go first but I am starving and start filling my plate. A little a this, a little a that and a whole lot a that! We sit down at the table and no one says anything…
I think maybe it’s awkward for everyone but me. To be sitting with my Ex at Thanksgiving that is. We’ve only been divorced since Jan. but separated since June, we get along fine.
Me…”How’s work guys?”
They look at me like I have just said, ‘Off with their heads!’
F1…”So, F2S (that would be F2’s Spouse), did you get that job?”
F2S is retiring soon and looking for a job.
F2S…”No, I think I’m just gonna play golf and make F2 support me.”
She looks at him like he is mad as a hatter.
F3S…”I was reading an article that they were filling the Turkeys with hormones so their Breasts would be extra large.”
Me..”Yeah, but they are REAL, REALLY theirs, just like F1’s!”
She’s so awesome, she laughs too.
I see my Ex lean over and he tries to whisper something in F1’s ear.
I over hear it…
Ex…”I wonder if she tells the truth about her thighs.”
Me…”Ha! I don’t hide it.”

He doesn’t know me or understand me. I wonder if he ever did.

F1’s son walks in. He is wearing a wife beater, shorts and his hair is wild like a redheaded Medusa.
F1…”See I can totally move back to Kansas! We are hick through and through.”
…”Hahahhahaha”

Dinner is done. The game had been on, but muted while we ate. The game is turned up and is being watched now as the ladies clean up.

Blah, blah, blah…

I get a call…Someone I know is getting married. I tell my Ex.
Ex…”Make sure he signs a prenup.”
I think I am the only one that laughed at that. The silence was as still as Joan Rivers face when she laughs…nothing!
Me…”That is SO going in my blog!”

I always feel bad when money issues come up though, that is the honest truth.
When my Ex and I separated we didn’t higher expensive lawyers. We went to a Mediator who specializes in finance. We put together a good plan for our children and separated ‘our’ finances in 1/2. I put ‘our’ finances in small quote because he earned all of it. I didn’t work. I was allowed to volunteer though. I worked for the Red Cross for years. I sat on boards for the Officers Wives Clubs and raised money for scholarships. I helped out with whatever Squadron he was in; cooking food, planning parties and in general, helping out. When the Sqd. had to deploy I can’t tell you how many times I had to sit in the First Shirts office as we figured out what to do with the drama that ensues as soon as they fly out; be it child custody issues, household problems or women that were left with not enough money in their accounts to get by. This was the Air Force, not the normal world. When someone has a problem they would come to us. I was active in his career.
He won’t support me forever, only a few years more. We were married though for more than 10 years required for the split of his retirement. I feel shitty about this so often though. I should not I am told. I have the children half the time. He didn’t want to see me left destitute, which could have happened, in the eyes of our children and the world. I am still at his beck and call when he has to travel out of town, sometimes at the last minute. I still can’t have a traditional job. (Even though I don’t want traditional, unless ruling the airwaves and book sales count;)
He’s a good Dad. No, a Great Dad and a good ex-husband.

We are watching the game and I miss some witty quirks here and there. I really need to keep a note pad and pen readily available.

I don’t really like football. I actually don’t like watching sports on T.V. Live sports is another thing though…except Baseball. I think Baseball is probably the most boring sport…wait…I take that back…I forgot about Cricket ! My favorite sport live is Hockey. I like the violence, I don’t deny it. The sound of bodies slamming into the ‘glass’ and Oh, the fights. I also have a strange love of Horror Movies with ton’s of gratuitous violence…somethings wrong with me, I know.

So we are all sitting watching the game and I over hear my Ex say…
…”I need to re-friend Eva.”
I am thinking to myself, 'Eva who?’
I actually start listening to the conversation now and get out of my own head. I wasn’t watching the game either :/
They are talking about Eva Longoria and Tony Parker. I like to know what’s going on in the world around me but I pick scientific discoveries, politics, confrontations on the global level and sadly, fashion. I had no idea they split.
I get the low down.
Tony had an affair with one of his team-mates wives.
From what I gathered the four of them were all friends and would hang out.
F1…”That’s one foursome gone wrong.”
Me…”I know what happened. I can hear the explanation. ‘You mean you didn’t get the text that we were all going to ‘get together? Ha!”

The game ends and my Ex gets up to leave. I get up quickly and put a plate of leftovers together for him. I try to be the best Ex I can be for him. If I cook something fabulous and I have enough, I make sure he gets some.
Me…”Oh, wait, what kind of pie do you want?”
Him…”I don’t care I love all pie.”
Me…”I know there’s one kind you don’t like.”
He and F1 look at me all lopsided.
Me…”MINE!” and I laugh.
Ok…that wasn’t very nice of me. I had to apologize when I saw him this morning because I felt so bad.
Awhile back I counter-protested the The Westboro Baptist Church and Fred Phelps. I made my picket sign in my garage. I was coming home and had to pick up my daughter from piano because my ex couldn’t. My daughter asked me what the sign was for so I explained. He comes to get her and she tells him what I had done that day. He looks at me, I look at him and I say…
…”I’m an embarrassment to you, aren’t I?”
Ex…”Not anymore.”
We both laughed because we knew this was true.