Saturday, April 21, 2012

Rated R for Adult Content And Plastic Male Nudity

So, here's the thing. If you are my grandma, or anyone's grandma really... you shouldn't read this post.

You have been warned.

I've been putting off a lot of posts. I have them in an idea area, but nothing completed. Things about the toughest times since Zack left, and posts about insecuritites I've had since he's been gone. Potential or future posts, that I am delaying until the emotions associated with them aren't quite so fresh. I choose to post about these things because of how many people have said that the things I write to them make them feel less alone in what they go through. I promise to post them, just not until Zack gets home and I can squeeze him when I'm bummed. Deal? Anyway.

This post was on my list, for many reasons. First, as previously stated, I want Zack to be here to fix the .... ahem... emotions ... that this post will bring up. Honestly, I wasn't sure I would post this at all, for the sake of... Oh, I don't know...




Self preservation?

The fact that I really hate the visuals many of you will get when reading this... or do I? ha.

Who knows. But. I've decided it's time.

So, here it is ladies and gentlemen.

The post.

There are a few things about marriage and co-habitating that you grow accommodated to that are hard to give up. For example, sleeping alone. And sleeping alone.

It is hard to go from regular... uh.. interaction... to zero.

I need to get laid. That's the long and short of it.

It's not just about the lack of sexual satisfaction either. Because, let's be honest. It's 2012 and there are self-help options. haha. awkward?

Seriously though, I miss being touched and touching. So much. It's obscene.


My brain is functioning like a teenage male.. nearly everything my husband says is followed by "that's what she said" in my brain. I feel like everything he says is sexual.

I miss seeing him naked. I miss his big.. amazing.. lips. Oh kisses. I miss kisses.

I miss being massaged and tickled. I miss him playing with my hair! Which led, partially, to the awkward moment I am about to share with you, blog readers.

Since Zack left, when I feel deprived of human contact I schedule a pedi or mani. A facial perhaps. Recently I scheduled an appointment to get my hair done. It had been nearly 4 months since one of my appointments, and I really needed it. Really.

I had a groupon so I had never met this incredibly nice lady who was coloring my hair. She was keeping perfectly pleasant conversation about my life and my sweet Sailor man while she mixed the color and continued with it into the application.

About 15 minutes in... I realized how hard she was trying to keep the conversation going. Which was weird, because you literally can't shut me up. Took me a second to take stock of the situation.. when I realized.. I was MOANING. Omg.

So horrifying.

And hilarious.

I was like "Oh my gosh! Have I been making innapropriate noises while you have been putting that in my hair??? This whole time?!" She started cracking up.

I was mortified. I nearly got up and left.

How embarassing.

Sexual deprivation for military wives is a very serious thing. When you first hear about women cheating on their husbands while they're deployed you judge them harshly, and they deserve it. They're awful horrid women. Cheating is not an option. However, after a few months alone, single and married... forced into celibacy... when you don't make excuses for those women, and you still judge them, and they're still horrid, but you have a tiny bit of understanding.

It is unnatural.

People need touch.

Our relationship, our amazing bedroom skills, are worth waiting for. But, I am still a grumpy gopher after watching a particularly graphic sex scene on tv, or at this point, finding and packing away all the penis items from my bachelorette party.




19 days. 19 days. 19 days.


Oh husband, how I miss and love you. My sweet, sweet, love. I can't wait to see you, Punkin. You thought it was hot in Bahrain? Wait til I get you home. ;]


Bye bye sweetie pie's!


Friday, April 20, 2012

Well, Isn't That Pinteresting...

I'm so crafty. It's ridiculous.

Actually that's a lie. Whatever the opposite of crafty is, that's me.

Which makes me so sad, because I love Hobby Lobby. Everything in there draws me to it. I want to buy it and take it home and create things. But I can't fathom for a second what.

I loathe scrapbooking. Knitting and other yarn projects do not show fast enough results for me. Honestly, it's hard for me to wait for spray paint to dry when I actually do commit to a project.

Which is why Pinterest is killing me slowly. It's got to be the most overwhelming website in the world. And yet, I can't look away.

I could pin things all day long. Heaven forbid I start at night... kiss sleep goodbye, girlfriend.

I've also found literally hundreds of things I'm going to force.. ahem... ask... my new fun neighbor in Georgia to make with me.

I'm determined to be more wifey. Wife-like. Since I will be jobless, for at least a little while after we get there, money will be relatively tight at first but I want more than anything to feel comfortable and at home in our new place. Mainly because it is the only HINT of control I have while leaving my home town, my family, and the place I have always loved.

So I want to make our house our home, and I want to keep busy. So I'm going to try my hand at cooking all these new fun recipes I've found and pinned to my "Yummm" board. As well as fancying up our new place with all the fun things on my "For Our New Home" board.

So, the last two days I've been busy making this little gem. I hate having my makeup that I use daily in a drawer. I feel like the drawer gets gross. Plus, in my current house I have no (yes, NONE) drawers in my bathroom, and this will be fun for the next few weeks I'm here. Just to see how it works out.


So, anyway, check me out!

First I went to Michaels and bought a 12 inch shadow box. On pinterest the lady used a picture frame but I thought the edge of the shadow box would keep things from falling off in the event of a drunkenly slammed door. As luck would have it scrap book paper is also 12 by 12 inches, so I picked out a pretty one for the background and grabbed a can of spray paint in a cute blue color, and a roll of magnet tape.

Then, I went home and spray painted the outside of the shadowbox and the inside lip blue. I waited about half the time I was supposed to for it to dry, and applied another coat, and another, and another, until the tiny can was empty and Nicole Richie's stomach.



My next problem was trying to find someone who would cut me a sheet of metal for the backing to make the surface magnetic. As luck would have it I had to run to Home Depot for something else, and inquired if they cut metal... which of course they did not. As I was walking out however I noticed these pieces of "metal sheeting". I have no idea what they're actually used for but they had a lot of really decorative ones. Anyway, because it was meant to be, the piece was exactly 12x12 and I bought it and walked to my car grinning like a moron.

It slid right in but I put a few dots of tacky glue on the back just for fun. It's also INCREDIBLY sharp on the outside and I don't want to bump into it in the middle of the night and have it fall out and slice off my toes. Although, that would really open up my shoe size range.

Then I slid the piece of scrapbook paper on top. I didn't glue it down, because the paper was relatively sturdy and I want to be able to change it out when it gets gross, as anything that touches makeup daily does. Plus, the magnets hold it up anyway. Moving on.



Nextly I found the magnetic tape and took these stupid pictures. Is anyone still reading this?

Using scissors, I cut the magnets into small pieces and peeled off the impossibly sticky backing to adhere them to my makeup. Repeat as needed. Since in general I wear eyeliner and mascara on a good day, all of this makeup looks brand new. I'm going to try to actually look presentable on a daily basis after Zackery get's home, so I'm getting in the practice now... kinda. Anyway.

Then came the brushes, the undereye corrector for my infallibly unrested undereye baggage. It would be silly to magnetize all of them to the board so I searched my house for a solution. On Pinterest she used a giant medicine bottle, but since I rarely take meds I was at a loss. I'm not really even sure what that polka dot thing is, but I found it in my brothers room and took it. It was probably mine anyways.

Putting the magnets on the round surface was hard since they curved the other way.. I guess you could probably put them inside and use the tacky glue to keep them stuck on. I'm not sure. After a lot of wasted magnet pieces, this finally worked well enough to hold all the brushes and etc.




And here is the finished product!



I'm practically Molly Stewart. I think it's super cute.


ha. well, I tried.


Look forward to more of these posts as I pin my way through wife-ing.

I have to go pack more. Blech.

Happy 17th Birthday Cody Kiraly Self. I love you muchly and I am so stinkin' proud of you and your brother I can't express it in words. You've grown up to be the most awesome kid around, and If my kids are exactly like you (but also love puppies and kittens) I will be the happiest lady alive.



Later gators!


Thursday, April 19, 2012

Our Own Little DITY

Well. Planning this move is ruining my life. I know no matter how much I screw it up the end will still be my sweet little family of four in our cute new house in Georgia, and that my friends, is the only thing keeping me sane.

Seriously, I'm losing it.

My brain is like an explosion of confusion.

You have to rent a truck, and it costs like a billion dollars right from jump street. Then you add gas. That alone is enough to make me wish we let the military move us.

Now, before YOU (you know who you are) say anything, I am still glad we picked to do this our selves. This is a situation I'm feeling very little control over and having 100% control of my possessions makes me feel a little better. Plus, we're still saving more money.

But today, I'm ready to cry just looking at my living room.. which is completely full of things that need to be packed and organized... I considered taking a picture but seeing it would stress my husband out haha.

Look at this though...

We have to go that far.

With this dog bed topped with our 90 pound Hank...


And this Lucy containment system, filled with what will likely be the worlds most angry-stoned cat...


In this tiny backseat...


... seriously.


This is a Tetris puzzle that I fear can not be accomplished.

It makes me triple dot ...




After a day of cleaning and organizing I am feeling like this is possible, however, but not fun. Zero fun.

I rented a few movies today and sorted all of our clothes, shoes, and a few other random things. This is stuff we're taking so far...


This is a box of shoes I found in my closet that I sorted and separated... This is roughly 1/3 of the shoes I found...


This is the pile of stuff I'm not packing so that I have things to wear for the next 21 days...


and here... is the motherload of stuff... and it is all going to goodwill.


I am THRILLED to see it go. If I would have let someone else pack and move us, there's a strong chance I would have moved that pile of crap I don't want all the way to Georgia. Yuck. It's gotta go. Honestly, that pile will probably double. More likely triple. I want our new house and all future houses to be clutter free.

As I was putting all those clothes into the goodwill pile today I was having pangs of guilt when I'd throw some piece of expensive clothing with tags still on it into the mix. Each time I had to remind myself that If I kept it I'd never wear it, and if I put it in a pile to sell it, it would never EVER happen. So instead some lucky goodwill shopper is going to hit the Jack Freakin Pot.

Right? Right. I'm doing good.

I really believe in karma and I feel like this stuff is weighing me down. Owning things you're not using that someone else could be using is definitely bad juju.

I'm sincerely ashamed of how sore I am after 8 hours of cleaning, organizing and packing. It's really sad.

But I'm getting it done. I know our belongings will be safe. That makes me feel good. Which is important. A happy wife, is a happy life. ha. seriously, ask my husband.


Final thoughts for today... who has ANY idea how we can pack that monster TV? We don't have the box. It's 60 inches of stress right now. I have no idea what to do. It was too expensive to just chance it. Any ideas? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Well, it's been good talking to you all. More soon.

Love you.



Thursday, April 12, 2012

Molly 2.0

Well kids. It's getting down to the wire. At this moment there are exactly....

Until my sweet sailor man gets home. I am thrilled.


There are roughly one million things for me to blog about in the coming days, so my intention is to make that happen. I want to chronicle our adventures.


This weeks adventure is mostly packing.. let's hope the coming adventures are a lot more fun.


Guys... side note... Zack sent me an iPad a few weeks ago and I'm currently blogging from a bluetooth keyboard, which would be great if my fingernails weren't so uniformly unattractive right now.



It's not good. Most of them are way too long to even hit the keys I intend and the other ones have been snagged in puppy hair today and are jagged and awful. I meant to file all of them earlier, but instead filed one and then took 100 pictures of Hank and I with my cell phone... So the cocaine sniffing pinky nail that grows 5x faster than the rest will live to see another day.


Please observe this fun picture of Hank and I...


I am experimenting with wavy/curly hair for Georgia. Since my hair would be shoulder length ringlets if I allowed it to be, the humidity in Georgia threatens to cause me one and a half years minimum of bad hair days. I've been putting in straightening gel before my regular gel and it's turning out interesting.


Anyway, this got me thinking... moving to Georgia is like switching from middle school to high school! It's a chance for me to totally reinvent myself.

Maybe I'll go by Moll in Georgia (although it's more likely I will put my head in the oven).

Maybe I'll adapt a new carefree "let-the-cards-fall-where-they-may" life style and quit worrying about every dang thing. Also, pretty unlikely.

Perhaps I will start wearing fake glasses, because they look so stinkin cute on me. If everyone there thinks I'm visually impairerd I would feel much less douchey about wearing them.

I might pick up a new hobby. Bowling? Scrap booking? Gardening? Heroin? Needle point? Storm chasing? Who knows?

The possibilities are endless.


What I'm thinking for sure is that I am going to adopt a new "my hair is like this on purpose" persona. My old room-mate (we've discussed her multiple times in the past) used to have this really annoying girl come to our house. She was adorable but just as boring as could possibly be and honestly, she irritated the shit out of me. She used to walk in to our house with this HUGE back comb poof thing on the back of her head. Like, we nick-named it the alien... not lie, snookie poof, it was the snookie poof's fat step-sister. HUGE.


At first, it would take you back a little but then you would get used to it. Because she rocked the alien poof. Like she made us all feel silly for not wearing an alien poof. Just for a minute of course, because that look definitely is not for everyone.


So, that's my plan. If ever there were a perfect time to try new weird things with my mane it is now. Perhaps I'll tie it in an elaborate bow on my neck, like a bow-tie. That could be my signature look. Who's to say?

I am. I'm to say.

A hair bow-tie would be sweaty.


Anyway. Food for thought.