Yep. I'm That Girl. Poor Hank.

Today I cried in the dog groomer and couldn't leave Hank there to be groomed.

Don't judge me. Let me explain.

Hank desperately needs to be groomed. He sheds year round enough to drive any pet owner completely out of their mind. And twice a year he "blows coat" which isn't what you think... gross... he basically molts. HUGE handfuls of hair just fall off of his body. It's disgusting. I however, love him so much I barely notice until someone else says something or I'm wearing something nice, and black.

I'm talking pay a large ransom love.

Who wouldn't love that sweet face??

Hank has been through a lot with me. He was a gift from my ex, and one of the only good things that came from that relationship. He was with me when I was embarassed because everyone was talking, before and after the break up. He was with me at my parents house between houses, when I cried myself to sleep, because I wasted so much time. He sat with me in the bathroom all the nights Haley lived with me, when I was too drunk to make it to my bedroom. He met and vetted lots of guys before Zack. He has been there through all the big moments of my life the last 5 years, the most important of which was meeting and falling in love with my sweet Zackery. He was my first clue Zack was the one for us.

Hank was at the bottom of the pile during the chapstick story.

Zack loves Hank.

He picked up Hank poop in the front yard, he loved Hank and played with him, and most of all he rarely- if ever- complained about the ridiculous amounts of Hank hair. But also, it turned out, Zack and Hank were already related.

When I got Hank, he was a sweet little 10 pound ball of white fur. The cutest little puppy I've ever seen. I am struggling to find a puppy picture, but I'll put one up eventually. He was silent and slept for the first 48 hours after we brought him home from the pound. I named him Hank because I love country music and I like people names for dogs. So we named him Hank after Hank Williams.

Zackery's last name is also Williams.

Hero: Zackery Williams-- See?

Which makes it fun to call and make appointments for Hank Williams. People always laugh and think I'm one of those people who names their dog a name like that since Williams is my last name. I'm not. He had my last name for 4 years, first. But it's still pretty funny.

Anyway.

Hank is my favorite. I love him so much. I would never ever put him in a situation we were not both 100% confident about. He loves Barb's Best Friends doggy daycare, and he's very social. He hates the vet, but it's a necessity, and I would never ever leave him there without me. I want him to feel confident that I will keep him safe, because he has helped me get through some pretty terrible parts of my life, and I owe that to him. Hank is more than my dog, he is my friend, and he is my baby. I am that girl.

Hank loves the water, so in the past when he has just been bathed at the groomer I am confident that he isn't scared, and I feel like I can leave him there. He loves people, and anytime people are paying attention to him he's happy as could be.

Here's Hank loving Haley after a dip in Manawa

This time was different, because our house is in the flood zone, and we are more than likely going to have to move in with my parents for at least a little while. Since my parents think that sheddy dogs live outside, and Hank and I have a very different opinion on the subject, I decided that I would get him shaved into the lion cut this year so that he can habitate the indoors right by my side where he belongs. Plus he has terrible allergies and someone suggested that the cut might help him to attract less allergens... I'm not sure about that but I'm willing to give it a try. Also, It's hot as the sun where we live in the summer, and he gets miserable unless he is in the lake. So even though he has a beautiful, double coat, I decided it was our only option. Even though I was feeling a lot of guilt about it.

Look how cute that baby is?!

So here we are today. I made an appointment a couple of days ago at the one place that wasn't going to charge us $80.00 or more. Today at 11 was his appointment, and we got there about 10:55. As we drove up I was immediately concerned. The building was a house. In a completely residential area, and it was not a very nice house, I could tell from the outside. There were kennels outside because the place is a doggy daycare also, which is concerning since to be groomed there they do not require the Kennel Cough Vaccine. There was a sign outside that said "Puppies For Sale In July" and nothing makes me angrier than people breeding puppies for cash when the shelters are FULL.

Don't get me started.

Hank and I parked and walked towards the house. He was stoked. He loves to visit people, he's always excited. As soon as I opened the door to their screened in porch, the stench of cigarette smoke hit me. Super professional. What did I expect?

Despite my better judgement we kept walking in and as soon as Hank smelled the entry rug (which probably smelled like nervous animals) he immediately got nervous and his ears went down and he hunched as close to the ground as possible. He trusts me though, and he kept walking in with me. Hank and I have went to parties at much grosser places.

The receptionist greeted us and made a Hank Williams joke, as she would. I gave her Hanks shot records and out of nowhere, this LOUD and seemingly vicious dog bark came out of the back of the house. Hank bolted for the door. He is a lover not a fighter. He was scared, and all I could think of was he really needs his haircut... he really needs it, and I'll wait outside in my car the 3 hours it takes, I'll pick him up as soon as he's done. This will be fine. He's ok.

He was not ok.

After a minute we walked to the back of the house to put him in a pin to wait for his turn to be groomed. There were several dogs pinned in the back for "day care" (Barbs Best Friends is doggy daycare, not pins) and the receptionist slid a plastic tray under a big pin RIGHT NEXT to the dog who was WIGGING OUT. Hank was not having it. He kept looking at me like "Are you on drugs? You must be on drugs." He was so scared. I have terrible guilt for not leaving right then. The other dog was banging against the side of her pin trying to get to Hank. I forgot to mention, I also had a very rough, scream at the top of your lungs "I WANT MY HUSBAND BACK", type of night, and I was exhausted and as such very emotional. So, I started to cry. Not sobbing, but like sad movie crying. Silent crying, but there were definitely tears.

Yep. Get the visual. I'm not even embarassed. I was having a moment. Don't judge me.

The receptionist sort of paniced at this point. She could tell we were both pretty distressed (haha). What she did next though, made me go put Hank back in the car.
Hank is a German Shepherd mix. Anyone who works with dogs knows that particular breed frequently have hip joint issues, and Hank definitely does. This bitch got on her knees, leaned forward and grabbed my BABY by his front legs and tried to pull him into the pin. I, terrets style, loudly blurted out "STOP!" and yanked the leash away from her and started walking towards the door. No one manhandles my baby.

I was trying to continue to be nice, because I knew if I lost my temper the police were likely to attend our consultation. My rage, however, was boiling to that point and I felt like it was probably time to rush out of there. She said she would reschedule me an appointment when there would be less dogs in there, and I smiled politely and walked to my car. Where I sat and hugged my Hank and apologized over and over. Poor dude.

I drove him to another groomer, where my mom takes her dog, that was more expensive (still not terrible) but someone I trust and took Hank in to make an appointment. Like I should have done the first time. I'm a loser.

He's going next week, and I will let all of you know how that goes. In the mean time if you live in this area, and need a fun and safe place to take your dog for daycare or boarding stick with Barb's Best friends.

I told the other groomer how horrified I was by the whole experience and they promised me they would be good to him and I could stay the whole time if I wanted. Hank even liked being in the building and was excited to see all of the other dogs casually walking around in there.

So, I am feeling like the worlds worst dog mom. I took Hank to McDonalds to get him chicken nuggets and an ice cream cone. He was still nervous and his usually perky adorable ears were still glued to the side of his head, but I feel like he is going to forgive me.

It was quite the experience. Already both of my parents have given me a hard time about being too protective, even though my Mom never would have left her dog there. The thing is, I'm certain Hank would have had a heart attack if I had left him at that place, and I just couldn't do it. Zack got it. The animal lovers who read this will get it. Anyone who has ever seen me with Hank will at least not be surprised.

Sigh. I did the right thing.

Anyway, on today's agenda we have brush Hank until he wont allow me to anymore, and pack more of our stuff.

I know that was long folks, I was venting. Thanks for reading =]
XOXOXO

Taking The Bad With The Good

I am in a fantastic mood today, considering.

Considering my house is more than likely going to be under 3 to 4 feet of standing water by the end of the month, and I am being forced to pack all of my most important worldly belongings. I am feeling confident that I'm going to be able to get out all of the things that really matter to Zack and I, as well as most of the stuff that doesn't. If my house is unlivable, which it will obviously be if it floods even a little, I have a place to go that I can take my Hank and Lucy, and all of our stuff, for free. Which is exciting since I will still get my housing allowance, and I will have enough money to replace any necessities that I may not move.

This is all fantastic news.

However, I am super excited because today was my second weigh in with Weight Watchers. I have officially been on "the plan" for 2 full weeks and I have already lost 7.4 pounds! Woot! I received my 5 pound weight loss milestone today and I am thrilled. I have also lost multiple inches. I am elated. I can't believe how easy this is. I can't believe how close I am to my first goal, it is insane. At this rate I will reach my goal weight well before Zack gets home. I just need to stay motivated, and I really don't think that's going to be a problem.

I am already looking at cute little outfits to wear to pick Zack up from the airport. It's so exciting.

I know 7.4 pounds doesn't seem like much in 2 weeks, but this isn't really a diet, it's the way I will learn to eat for the rest of my life. People on weight watchers generally lose 1 to 2 pounds a week. I have a total of 50 weeks since I started Weight Watchers to the time Zack gets home, 1 or 2 pounds a week works pretty perfectly since I'm not trying to lose 100 pounds.

That was exactly what I needed to get me out of my funk. I have been pretty sad lately. But today I feel good. Even though I still miss Zackery like crazy.

I HATE packing and moving though. I have always hated it. It always feels messy and unorganized. So in that arena, I could definitely use some motivation. It is not fun.

I'm being told if it floods even a little bit they will shut off the power to our area. Since it is almost a certainty that it will flood at least a little bit I feel like I should start moving my stuff as soon as possible so that I don't end up moving stuff, especially big stuff, from my house in the 10 zillion degree heat.

Because the heat here is not playing around. It is as hot here this week as it is in Bahrain. It's insane. Anyone who has ever moved or helped someone move, knows that the only thing worse than moving someone in the middle of the subzero temp winter, is moving someone in the middle of the my skin is cooking temps in the summer. So, It's sort of a hurry up and wait game now. Good thing I'm so used to that.

So, there's that.

I want to briefly mention to all of you how bummed I was this morning, however.
WAIT! It's not what you think.
This morning I wanted to donate Lucy's old litter box to the animal shelter, because I just got a sweet new one that requires minimal poop touching. I got there a little early and while I was sitting in the parking lot I saw a family, with their 2 small children in the car, bringing their cat and kittens to be dropped off.
It is kitten season and the shelter is PACKED with homeless cats and kittens. If you bring your cat in with it's kittens right now you should feel confident that at least half of them will not make it out. They're just too full. So don't be an ass and take your cat and kittens to the shelter. Spay and Neuter your animals, first and foremost. But if you're too lazy and irresponsible to do that, at the very least, it is your responsibility to take care of your family pets offspring, and make sure they all have loving and responsible homes to go to.
How can someone take their pet to the pound like they're returning a library book? I can't understand it. Lucy is psychotic. She is rarely a joy to be around. She is mean to everyone besides Zack and I, and really that's only if she's having a good day. She believes, firmly, that her mission in life is to attack and kill everything in our home. Even on her very worst day, I have never seriously considered taking her to the pound. Because she's my responsibility. Zack and I adopted her and I owe it to her to stick it out no matter how psychotic she turned out to be, and love her even if she will only let me pet her 2 or 3 times a day.

Lucy helping me pack.

So don't be stupid.
It breaks my heart.

Naked Skype Chatting

(This blog entry's original post date is May 11th... however my blog is obsessed with this post for some reason, and occasionally reposts it as a new post without my permission... sorry about that...)

By accident... of course.

I am a very anxious person. I worry a lot. I am very nervous about all of this, as to be expected, and I had a very long night.
Hint- Don't watch international flight tracking.

As my frequent blog readers know, I am quite the little bath taker. When I get nervous (bored, tired, sleepy, hot, cold... anything really) I take a bath, and facebook stalk on my cellular. Yes, even though I have a brand new cell phone (a Thunderbolt actually, it rocks by the way).

Anyway.

This morning around 3am, since I'm not sleeping, I decided to take a bath. I knew Zack was in the airport waiting for his flight to Bahrain and that he could be calling or skyping me soon, but I also thought it might be a while, which is why I decided to take a bath.

I definitely didn't want to miss a skype call or a phone call so I decided to prop my laptop up on the toilet- easily reachable from the tub- just in case my cell phone didn't get the skype call for whatever reason.

Well, as I'm sure you've guessed. About 5 minutes after sinking into a flaming hot bubble bath, I got a skype call on my laptop. Which I immediately answered naked in the bath tub.

Skype is so fantastic

He was in a starbucks.
Eh, whatever.
I'm just so glad I got to see his face.
I miss him so much.

He will be done traveling FINALLY this evening. I'm hoping to hear from him shortly after he lands. Then I hope to sleep for a very long time.
I will be so relieved when he is done traveling and I know he is safe and ok.
I miss him so much.

I miss him so, so, much.

He is well by the way. He was happy to see his naked wife and his sweet Hank and Lucy. We are both very sad, and having a hard time adjusting. But it's only been a few days, and we are both very, very, tired. We will be ok.

I am so lucky I have him to miss.

Oh and, in true Zackery style, he skype introduced me, while naked in the bathtub, to his new barista friend. Hahahaha. Whatever. He could only see to my naked shoulders. Poor guy.

Ew. Ew. Ew. What An Exciting Life

Is it sad that I am super excited that my landlord told me he has graduation parties all weekend and won't be able to come mow my lawn? My landlord is a relatively nice man, enjoyable even. I like him.
But, everyone who has ever rented a property ever in their lives knows that there is a certain level of anxiety that comes with knowing your landlord is coming to your house. My landlord mows for me, for a small fee, and I have found he can come anywhere from once every 3 days to once every 7 days. He's busy, so he can't really say for sure when he will be here. Which is why I also like it when it's raining, because I feel like I can relax.
I'm not hiding a meth lab or anything. I'm just messy, and I forget to pick up all the dog poop, or I'm not wearing a bra and my curtains are open. He's seen me looking pretty rough.
He also works with my Dad, and they are friends. So I know that if something is too out of the ordinary here I will hear it from my pops as well. So, I'm on edge often. Right around 3:30 every day when they get off work, until it gets to be too late for mowing. lol. It's pathetic really.
I should be medicated. More.

**Fair Warning: The rest of this post is kind of gross, and sort of long. But it's very funny, and it has pictures, and not of anything gross, and everybody loves pictures!**

Today I am doing more cleaning. Mostly dog vomit, because Hank is having allergy issues, apparently. Yesterday the lawn was mowed, and he always pants himself sick when the grass is mowed because he is apparently very allergic to cut grass. I feel for him because I have terrible allergies also, but I don't puke on the floor. He's also very nervous about where Zack has been and isn't getting a lot of sleep since he is constantly looking for him. I feel ya, Hank.
As you can see, not only is my life very exciting, it's also immensely glamorous.
Yesterday I had to pick up all the dog poop, which I hadn't done in several days. It was horrifying and I couldn't help but laugh thinking about Zack.

Zack hates dog poop. He has serious dog poop fear. Child hood trauma or something. He's a big baby.
When he first moved in with me, and he and my Dad turned into bff's my Dad started addressing Zack concerning all matters of lawn and Dog care. This included Hank poop.
Even though I offered multiple times to continue picking up the poop, or paying someone else to do it, he insisted that it was his responsibility. Per my Dad.
The first day he went out to pick it up he insisted I stand on the front porch and talk to him while he did it, to distract him.
It was hilarious.
Every once in a while he would smell something and gag and gag and gag. Then get so mad at me for cracking up. It was hilarious.
The icing on the cake was when Hank, casually walked up right beside him and made more of a mess for him to pick up. I think Hank was laughing too.
I knew that day, watching Zack pick up Hank mess and gag, all the while covered in Hank's hair, that he was my soul mate. If he could be with me and love Hank and rarely complain about owning the sweetest, sheddiest dog in the world, and pick up after him, he must really love us. And he does. So much.

But, Hank is one thing, and other peoples dogs are another.
When Zack and I drove to Florida before he left for Bahrain, we drove because my Grandma needed to get her dogs and car back there so she could spend some time in the house she has there.

Scooter, My grandma's yorkie, sleeping on Zacks shoulder.

Patsy, My Grandma's Wheaton Terrier, laying on my Grandma's stuff while we drove.

We loved driving down there. 25 hours, and all. Because Zack and I love to spend time together. But honestly, while we loved it and got to see lots of cool things, and make memories we will never forget, our trip started off pretty shitty. Literally.

We stopped every once in a while to eat and let the dogs out, or if we saw signs for something cool Zack we wanted to see.

Giant Superman statue in Metropolis, for example =]

It was super fun, and the dogs were pretty well behaved that first day.

Except for the incident at Sonic. Patsy was barking herself into a heart attack because 2 motorcycles drove up. Patsy loves motorcycles because she associates them with my Dad, who she loves more than life. Even after allowing Patsy to talk to the very nice bikers to show her they were not in fact my father, she continued to bark and completely freak out.

I decided to put her in the car since no one could order their food over her obnoxious barking.

I put her in the car, which the bikers parked right next to, and walked back to the table to grab my food and the bowl of water we had for the dogs, and then walked right back to the car to sit in there and eat with her while Zack and Scooter finished at the tables outside.

By the time I got back to the car, where I could hear Patsy barking and freaking out at the bikes still, she had lost her shit. Literally. Barked until she pooped right in the front seat. In less than a minutes time. Less than 30 seconds probably.

Zack was horrified.

He didn't even see it! For the rest of the day he talked about how disgusting it was that I picked it up with a napkin and put it in a fast food cup and threw it away. He was horrified. And it didn't even make the car stink.

That night we stopped in Tennessee and spent the night at a pet-friendly hotel.

Patsy and Scooter looking out the window at the hotel

That morning we woke up and Zack went down to smoke and get some breakfast. When he came back, he was excited, and said that this hotel had terrible breakfast but was extremely pet friendly, and that he met someone downstairs who had kept 3 llamas in their room the night before and they were outside now. I had to go see them, so we spent about an hour walking the dogs outside and seeing the llamas. Plenty of time for them to do their business before we got on the road, we thought. 

 I know it's a terrible picture of the llamas, but we couldn't get too close, we didn't want to scare them.

We got on the road as soon as we were done walking the dogs, and totally forgot our drinks in the hotel room. Zack started complaining that he was dying of thirst after about 3 minutes. So we pulled off when we saw a sign that said last exit 50 miles and let the dogs out at dunkin donuts, and got some Tennessee sweet tea that we were pretty excited about. So, basically that morning the dogs had been in the car for abour 15 minutes so far.

We were back on the road, and I wasn't stopping until someone was begging me. I'm sort of a male like that. It was early, Zack would fall asleep, as would the dogs, and I would drive until they woke up. 

I had JUST set the cruise control when Zack started saying "I think Scooter is squatting, I think he's gonna go to the bathroom!". I was laughing because he is so paranoid and told him we had just had him out, it wasn't possible he still had to go. Then Zack started to scream "Scooter stop! Stop! Scooter! Molly, pull over!!" He was indeed pooping on all of grandma's stuff we were taking cross country for her. And as Zack screamed Scooter walked and dragged it across the rest of the stuff.  

Zack started gagging, I started cracking up. I have worked at daycares, and I volunteer at the animal shelter, and foster puppy mill dogs, poop is not nearly as horrifying to me.

We had just passed the sign that said we had 50 miles to go til there was anything that could be done about it. We had also just cleaned out the car and threw away all the napkins, there was nothing to clean it up with.

I was dying laughing. It smelled... unfavorable. Zack was trying to roll down the window, and Patsy immediately started trying to jump out. It was unbelievably funny. The window was rolled down one inch and Zack's entire face was sticking out of it screaming at me how we needed to pull over to the side of the (very busy dangerous) road THAT MINUTE. I was trying to explain that there was nothing we could do and we would just have to tough it out for 48 more miles. I almost peed my pants I was laughing so hard.

He made me clean all of it up when we finally got pulled over. It was also all over Scooter, and he wouldn't even hold him while I sprayed him with water out of a bottle I borrowed from the gas station that said "toxic",  and wiped his tiny furry butt off. He gagged the entire time.

My husband the U.S. Navy Sailor.

Oh, silly Zack. I miss him so much that dog poop reminds me of him.

What an exciting, and glamourous life.

I couldn't be happier to live the rest of it with my sweet Hubs.

I know that was a really long and gross post lol... but whatev. I thought it was hilarious and Zack will laugh when he reads it =] Sorry if we grossed you out!

Love you!

Awful Suckful Day - Also, potentially life-saving advice.

I am angry and sad and frustrated and overwhelmed.

SN: This is probably not directed at you. I have the sneaking suspicion the directee's do not read my blog, or read for that matter. Zack and I have both been overwhelmed by the support from our family and friends. We love all of you so much.
I swear if one more person tells me to be strong, I will lose my mind. I am literally seconds away from fluffy bunny kicking crazy.
YOU be strong. Be strong next time you feel like you should tell me what you would do, be strong and don't give me your advice.

I know we will be fine.
I know he is going to come home safe.
I also know that for the next 359 days, give or take, I wont be able to be with him. I won't be able to go grocery shopping with him. I won't be able to watch movies with him. I won't be able to cuddle, or sleep with him.
I am so sad. I miss my husband.
I missed him before I got out of the airport. I sobbed the entire hour it took me to get out of the parking garage.

Isnt that special that you think that if you were in my position you could high-five your husband and gleefully skip to your car, I guess my husband and i just love each other more. Or maybe theres just something really wrong with you, or maybe theres just something really wrong with me. Regardless.

Going to the airport with my husband, and leaving without him absolutely killed me. I am devastated. We do everything together, and even driving home to our quiet house felt like I was being kicked in the stomach. And not just because our A/C conveniently went out last night, and the dog food in the kitchen is cooking in these temps, and smells awful.
I'm not being dramatic.
I miss him with my entire body.
I love him so much.
I hate this.

I hate it.

I know it's going to be ok. But today blows. I miss him so much.

Thank GOD

I hate Ice. I hate icey conditions. I have always erred on the side of caution when it is snowing and cold outside I prefer to stay home. I don't like the idea of being in an accident any more than I would actually like having an accident. It makes me very nervous.

A couple of months ago a friend of mine was very randomly killed in a car accident. It was awful. He was newly engaged. It really could not have been sadder.

That incident set my anxiety level at an all time high. Every time Zack leaves my heart drops. Even when it's not icey. But lately it's been super icey and I pray every time he leaves, almost the whole time he's gone, that he will come home safe. It makes my stomach turn. Until I'm a shakey anxious mess.

Then, on Monday, I got a panicy phone call from Zack.

This is what happens when the roads are icey and someone runs you off the road.

A totaled car.

These pictures make me sick. Really. It's hard for me to look at them. The next picture however makes me want to cry. It makes me want to get sick.
Thank GOD for these guard wires.

That's his head lights. In the guard wire. Those wires are what kept him out of on coming traffic.

I was at home blogging about spiders and cleaning out living room and he was spinning full 360's on the interstate.

ill.

He was really upset with me when he came home. Because I couldn't be upset. I had to act like it was nothing. Because I'm already crazy. I can't think about how bad it could have been.
I love him so much.



Ugh.

Thank GOD.

NOW my crazy is at an all time high.

Alfred Had Nothing On Ankaboot

One of my major concerns about when Zack is gone is my lack of a spider killer. Every year in the fall, well all 2 of them, that I've been in this house the spider problem is terrifying. From the windows in our house we can see the bigger than a half dollar size spiders crawling around in the bushes in front of the house.
When it was just Haley and I the spiders inside the house were a much much larger issue. I don't know why. They were EVERYWHERE. We had this super massive lint roller (read: intense dog hair problem) that looked like a paint roller. It was on a super long extendable poll thingy. Haley and I rolled several spiders from a safe 6 feet away while screaming and hopping like lunatics. It was touch and go, and I made the landlord hire someone to spray, but we lived.
Last year we met Alfred.
Alfred was a spider the size of a hamster. He was big enough that I knew his name from reading his name tag. He came to terrify me by building a web right in front of my living room windows every night, that reached just close enough to the porch banister that I thought Hank would get caught in it. Every night he looked at me through the window while I shook, with all 100 of his creepy little eye balls. For months he showed up every night around 6pm and was gone, web included, by the time I woke up in the morning. Sneaky little bastard.
I'm pretty sure Alfred had to work very early in the morning, so he had to pack it up and get their on time. Thank God Hay and I made such a spectacle of spider killing, because I think Alfred heard about it. Which is why he never let me catch his big ass in my house.
Regardless, Alfred was something I talked about on facebook on the regular. His presence, even outside, haunted me. All of my friends were aware of Alfred and when Zack was home he and his friends would stand on the porch and smoke while I stared at Alfred hoping the second hand smoke would cause him to contract an illness. This went on for months, and Zack refused to put out a hit on the little bastard because he said he ate the mosquitoes and other bugs and that Alfred was probably the reason that we didn't really have an indoor spider problem. This theory was of no consequence to me, and gave me nightmares about him eating smaller spiders. It was horrifying.
Then came what should have been D day for Alfred, but what turned out to be the day I wanted to burn the house down and build a new one, and move out of it just for good measure.
Zack and Doug had been drinking, and I had a headache, so I went to bed at about midnight. When Zack smokes he usually leaves the front door open, because he likes to talk to the people in the house. Even when there's no one in the living room, out of habit, he leaves the door open. Meaning I could hear went on that night.
I like to listen to the drunken ramblings of my husband and his friends because they're absolutely silly. That night they were discussing using my spray deodorant and a lighter to, essentially, blow torch Alfred. I immediately yelled out to tell them I did not want them to burn the house down, and I was pretty sure if they lit him on fire he would just run his humungous flaming ass into the house to call 911. It was a disaster in the making, and I advised against it.
Well, like a lot of the things I advise drunk people against, they decided this was the best plan of action and I was too tired to deal with the nonsense. I crossed my fingers and fell asleep.
The next thing I know, probably about 10 minutes later, I heard women screaming outside at the top of their lungs. They were screaming and yelling "Under the stair! Move the stair!" And then more loud squealing screams. The women sounded like they were being chased by a tiger and I thought maybe Zack and Doug caught the neighbors house on fire and the girls who live next door ran out only to be greeted by a flaming Alfred. In that case the screaming made sense. So I jumped up and ran out to the living room to see what was happening.
To my surprise the only women yelling were Zack and Doug. And they were doing the familiar spider killing hop and scream that Haley and I had done. They were standing in the yard trying to gain control of their flailing limbs when I came out. It was hilarious, but I was relieved because I assumed that, like when Hay and I did the hop and scream, Alfred had seen his last days.
Alas, I was incorrect.
Apparently what had happened was that they had set Alfred's web ablaze and Alfred casually hopped on to the ground (when the woman screaming began). My brave USN Sailors then moved the single cement stair next to the porch to 'get him' and just as they did... a SNAKE slithered out from underneath. Causing the hilarious limb flailing and my sudden urge to burn the house down.
Why me?? WHY ME??
That was the day I discovered my husband is also scared of spiders. And snakes. Maybe not to my extent, he could still take them out sober in broad day light with a shoe, but he was definitely a little frightened of MASSIVE man spiders when intoxicated, and he doesn't like snakes much either.

** Side note** Alfred showed up again several days later, only this time he was more aggressive and hung from the screen door. 

I locked Zack out of the house and told him he could live in it again when he got rid of Alfred. I recorded the Shoe Vs Spider showdown, and on that glorious day the Shoe won.  

The snake, or rather a snake, met it's match with the lawn mower a few days after that.****

Welp.

Today my mom sent me a message about how my brother saw something on the Discovery Channel about massive spiders in Bahrain. So I did some googling... holy shit.

Meet Ankaboot (spider in Arabic)

I hate the idea of not being with Zack, but I have never ever been so happy to not be going to Bahrain with him before in my LIFE. Holy balls.

You may now take pause and itch all over.

I wont post any more terrible pictures of Bahraini spiders here. Google it though, if you're brave. They're massive. And they're aggressive.

I'm going to put the Shoe Vs Spider showdown on a DVD for Zack to take with him to Bahrain. If he's smart he will play it on a loop in his barracks so that the spiders tell their spider friends what a spider killing badass Zack is.  

You and I will know the truth, but they don't need to know. 

My Crazy

I have serious issues. I'm sure something is wrong with me, as usual.

I have had this strange lump at the top of my neck, under my chin kinda. It's like the size of a marble. It's been with me for over a year now, so it must not be anything super awful, but I'm sure I should have it looked at.

When I first discovered this mysterious addition I went to the internets, to some random Dr. site and frantically typed in "HELP" in the subject line and my issue in the body. Days later I got replies from people telling me it is probably a lymph node or (because I mentioned I suspected it) a result of some sort of infection from my tongue ring, maybe a cyst, etc. etc. I took out my tongue ring. I still think that's probably the cause but I don't know. 

I also texted hundreds of my friends and relatives with any medical experience to see if I was in trouble, they all told me I probably wasn't. And that was that.I had a legitimate medical issue,

I drive everyone crazy, with the internet. Thank goodness the internet exists or I probably wouldn't have any friends. 

Well, right now, at this stage of Hypochondria, I'd like to share this story with you. As most of you know, for a period of time Zack and I were trying to get pregnant. Basically in the time we thought we were going to be gone together. From around July to October I'd say. Unfortunately, we were unsuccessful. Or fortunately, if that's how you choose to see it. But at the time there was nothing that could keep me from constantly bothering my friend Chelsea, and my husband with questions. "Do you think my runny nose is an indicator? I'm having crazy dreams, I bet I am. I'm one to three minutes late, I'm sure this is it." How I wish it would have been it, but it wasn't and that's ok.

Well, last night I found myself frantically searching the interweb for an answer to a question, I'm sure a lot of people ask... I was in the bath tub and suddenly I realized, that as unlikely (extremely) as it is, there was a tiny possibility I could have been pregnant. So I found babygaga.com, as I frequently did when I wanted to be pregnant before, and I frantically asked a question under the subject "I'm sort of panicing... hot baths??", it read "So, I just took a super hot bath, which I do at least once a day to relax- my hubs is about to deploy- anyway while in the bathtub I realized I'm kind of 'late', I've been kind of cramping and it doesn't start, and today I had really mild chest pains, none of which are completely uncharachteristic for me, but there's still a chance my eggo might be prego   which would be awesome, as unlikely as it is. Anyway I'm concerned I was just boiling in the bathtub and boiling my (unlikely) unborn child?? Does anyone know if I just made a huge mistake?? I know its a no-no, but should I be freaking out? Thanks for your help!"

I'm embarassed. Of course, everyone told me I was fine. And I woke up this morning feeling really silly for even asking the question but an hour before I was crying over a Brodkeys commercial. I don't even surprise myself with my crazy any more.

This is what I'm dealing with here kids. My baby-fever is at an all time high, my hypochondria is at an all time high, my stress is at an all time high, lets be honest, my crazy is at an all time high. 

I cry about everything. My body is confused. Let me tell you why, my husband is leaving. It's not fair. I'm stressed, and I'm depressed, and I'm trying really hard to put a smile on all of it. Most days I am legitimately happy and feeling good about everything. But some days, like last night, I am a whack-job. 

But I'm ok. I'm going to be ok. 

I'm Going to Be FIne

Today has been a long day. I've been cleaning my house. Not just cleaning, I mean like deep cleaning. It was in complete disarray, so any kind of cleaning was welcomed by both my house, and my husband. My living room and bathroom are the cleanest they've been since I moved into this house. It's ridiculous. However, I have broken each and everyone of my Kim Kardashian glamorous finger nails. For some reason when I clean obsessively I slowly fall apart. My back aches, my feet suddenly feel freezing and go numbish, my skin gets dry, my lips immediately chap, and most concerning my nails get dry and break... yet, my husband doesn't feel this is a sign that I am to immediately stop cleaning and hire a cleaning service.

Our house is over run with animal hair. So much so that I almost considered naming this post Shaving the Kitty, which I immediately rethought... not really the type of reader I'm looking to get. Not on this blog anyway.
I won't pretend that Lucy is even one fifth of our animal hair problem, although her stripey hair is increasingly becoming an issue, it is mostly my big sheddy Hank. He makes no apologies about it, and the benefits of Hank's love far outweigh the fact that all black clothing Zack and I wear has to be kept in our cars, and we have to put it on in the driveway. Making wearing black pants uncomfortable for us, and our neighbors.
I have a dyson, and it rocks, and it still is a constant battle to tame the detached main of my zoo. It's really awful. But I try... yes I do.

Our dish washer is broken as well. It's one of those mobile ones that rolls around the floor when drunk people  lean on it. It was never really reliable for clean dishes, but for the first 18 months or so that I lived here, a couple cycles did the job. It has however, completely forsaken me. Bastard. Now it sits angrily in the corner of my kitchen, mocking me, unused and in my way. So I have been HAND WASHING dishes, for the first time in my life. So much for being the kept, trophy wife I thought I was. It dries out my hands and nails in a way that you can not imagine.
My nails are screaming, and they sound like a tiny Vietnamese woman named Susie who works at my nail place. They beg me to get acryllic nails and forget about how great my nails grow on their own when taken care of. But I can't. It's too danged expensive, and I just cant forget how awesome my nails look when they get to grow on their own. I'm not ready to give up on them.

My carpet is perpetually spotted. Our carpet is white, because my landlord is a sadist. I don't know what he was thinking when he filled this house full of white easily stainable carpet but it wasn't "Some day I'm going to rent this house out to a funny young woman, her muddy husband, her great big dog, and their occasional potty trained-challenged foster dogs. So, I think we will go with white carpet. Yep." No sir, it was not.

Bah. I hate cleaning. I'm the worst cleaner, but when I start, you better just leave me alone because I'm not stopping. Which is why demon kitty has been quarantined to her room most of the day, I was certain if I stepped on her tail one more time it was going to result in a pricey vet visit.

I haven't checked facebook, all day. I don't know what's on anyone's mind right now, and it is strangely freeing but extremely unfamiliar. I could think about nothing other than shiny sinks (Thank you Flylady), Windexed mirrors, and getting everything organized all the live long day.

Here's the thing, I think if I just stay this busy every day Zack is gone, I should be A OK. I have all sorts of things planned for the year from hell.
I'm going to workout every day, except for maybe Sunday. Just because nobody likes anyone who works out everyday and public approval is very important to me.
I'm going to go to weight watchers because I'm getting boudoir or pin up photos done as a Valentine's day present for my husband in 2012, (which I'm writing more about later) and I plan to be even cuter.
I'm going to work and make some money and since I'll be so busy, I hope to have no time to spend any of it and be super ready for baby beautiful eyes as soon as Zack gets back.
I'm going to play with all of the babies of the people around me lucky enough to get knocked up recently. That is going to be spectacular.
I'm going to start cutting coupons like it never went out of style. I don't care if I look like your Grandma in the grocery store. It's going to be sweet.
I'm also playing coed softball with two of my favorite people in the world, Chelsea and Sam. I'm really excited about that.
I'm going to volunteer my behind off for SOLAS, for Precious Memories, and for any other thing I can get into. Volunteering makes me SO happy. It's disturbing.
I'm going to blog and talk to you all a lot. Because I just love you so much.
Plus I'm going to be spending a lot of time shipping care packages to my husband and skypeing and talking to him as much as possible.

My point, dear kiddies, in this crazy long post is a three parter: 1: Everything in my house is falling apart, and is likely to get worse when my husband leaves. 2: I don't mind because it will keep me so busy trying to keep up with everything. and Finally, I'm going to be fine. Even though if I think about it for more than a minute I am likely to cry uncontrollably with no foreseeable end, but why in the world would I think about it for more than a minute?! Just like when he's gone, I'm going to take every day one minute at a time.


***Love you guys, thanks for reading. Recently I've been getting a lot of super positive feedback about TGIMolly and I'm so proud. I would say about 90% of my monthly readers are military wives, so if any one of you would like to write a guest blog post I would absolutely love that. Also, don't forget it's so easy to comment at the bottom of these posts and let me know what you think.***

Security

Alright. I had about 3000 super sad negative things to write about today. But I've stifled them. Instead I've decided to blog about how everyone keeps telling me I should worry about my impending house invasion and consequent attack while Zack is in Bahrain.
Here's the thing, I've lived by myself before. I have a big dog. A big 90 pound german shepherd mix, with big teeth. Hank. Scary right?
Wrong.
Does this look like a scary animal to you?

Holly and Hank Sleeping

Hank and Zack kissing

Doug and Hank Sleeping

He's the sweetest baby in the world 99.8% of the time. Unless you're a bunny, you're traveling down the street on a motorized wheel chair, you have a jimmy johns sandwich in your hand, you're hitting me, or you move to quickly and are not... um... caucasian... (he's a racist. I apologize. We've talked about it. He's working on it.) you're Hank's bestie. He loves everyone. He has a little bit of a nervous licking habit and will lick your hands off, or your face if you're close enough. And my little cousin Zach will testify that if you are sitting in the front seat of my car, he will ignore that you exist.

Exhibit A

He's a marshmellow.

Aside from one instance where Linny approached my door in the middle of the night and he acted like he might take her out, I have no reason to believe he would scare anyone away. He likes the mailman. When the mailman reaches our house, Hank relaxes and plays with him until he hands him a treat. 

So, the problem is, everyone thinks I'm going to be raped. Many of the people close to me are concerned that I am going to be unsafe by myself for a year. It is concerning, sure. But what am I going to do??

I have an alarm system on my home, it has however had issues connecting to the company that installed it. Meaning, unless there is a fire, the police are not always called. It's just a very loud annoying noise for a rapist to have to put up with until I put the code in or a neighbor calls the police, about 10% of the time. I have to hope that my intruder is also an arsonist if I want the alarm to really be 100% effective. But they don't know that. So, I've played in my head what I would say to them "Excuse me sir, that alarm system you hear,  yeah it just called the police. They should be here soon. I'm not playing. Go. Quit petting the dog. Scram bucko!".

Ineffective? Perhaps. I think I'll have that checked. 

Zack wants me to get a gun. Which I am absolutely not going to do. I don't want a gun in my home. It's too easy to have an accident. I'm pretty sure I'd just be providing the assailant a weapon. I have on occasion tried to give my husband a dose of his own fracking medicine and shoot him with his stupid nerf gun, he immediately apprehends said gun and I am pelted with dozens of tiny nerf bullets. It's annoying. I fear that with a real gun, the outcome with an intruder could be far more fatal. 

I don't want a gun.

I have, as recently as a couple of weeks ago, fostered dogs in the past. Usually tiny dogs, but I could get a bigger scarier one... I mean, one with a scary bark and a big head. But Hank likes being an only child and I think he was happy to see the last foster leave. I'm pretty sure he's waiting for Lucy the adorable demon kitty to find a new home. Sorry Bud, she's staying. Unless she jumps on this keyboard one more time while I'm blogging....

So, what to do?? I'm interested in what other military wives do during deployment. I know lots of people move in with their parents, which is super not happening. We all get along better when I live somewhere else. Plus Hank sheds and my parent's cat tried to eat Lucy. 

I could get a roomie I guess. The last time it was pretty fun.

hm.

I can't wait for this stupid year to be over.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like...

Hypothermia. Everywhere we go.
It's not fun.
I was supposed to be Jamaican, I'm absolutely sure of it. I looooove the Christmas season, my happiest Christmas memories are the ones on those freak warm days where for some reason it's sweatshirt weather. Love.
Yesterday I was designing Christmas cards and finished before I realized the design I picked was a decorated tree on a beach. It said "Sending you warm wishes this season". *sob* I wish. I had to change to a snowy one that made me want to write "Hoping we all make it through this winter and move the hell outta Iowa by next snow season.".
I love Iowa, I love everything about living here EXCEPT the damn cold.
I just want to be warm. Which is why Zack and I are jet-setting off to sunny... well I don't know where yet.
I'm still feeling a lot of guilt about postponing our already belated wedding reception in favor of alone time with my love on a beach somewhere before he leaves for Bahrain. A lot of people, my husband included, told me they didn't care what we did, but I got the impression they all are really counting on a reception when he get's back. And recept we will. When he gets back.
Then I have time to plan, I can have the expensive photo-booth I want, and an open-bar with all of the bells and whistles. That's what I want. Plus, I can get skinny.
But most importantly I want to be on a beach squeezing my Zack for at least a week before they ship him off. I am aware people will think that's selfish, but it's really the best I can do. I need it. We need a honeymoon. I want to be able to hold on to those memories for the 12 months following, and where better than... well I still don't know. Somewhere amazing. I'm researching today.
I don't want to go to Mexico. I loooooved Jamaica but I wonder if it will be the same, as much fun, without my family there. Zack and I have discussed a lot of different romantic beachy places, but we need somewhere fun too. If you have any suggestions I'd love to hear them.
Also, we're discussing moving to base, again. Zack thinks it will be easier. I think a fresh start would be nice but we will have to buy things... like a washer and dryer, ha. And we would be farther from my parents. Which doesn't seem like a big deal while he's still stateside, but when I'm by myself, I'll wish I was closer. Plus, I've heard horror stories about gossipy military wives. No bueno.
Well, we'll see I guess.
I have to be domestic today. Blech. Well, here I go kiddies, wish me luck!

Change Is A Good Thing

Oh man, its been a while! Everything has just been so unclear I haven't been sure what to blog about.

We put in orders again! This time we chose 3 picks for San Diego, California, and 2 picks for Portsmouth, Virginia.

That's right, folks! Our big move adventure is now going to be, God willing, within the borders or this great country :) which is very exciting! This means I can drive Hank to our new home and he doesn't have to fly. This means we can haave a baby whenever we want, and we don't have to worry about our families flying 1000's of miles and spending as many dollars to come see baby beautiful eyes. This means we can bring 2 cars! It means we can do tons of things that were going to have to wait.

Unfortunately it's not all fantastic. Zack will be on mobile security if we do happen to get these orders (we could be rejected again). Mobile security means, apparently, he can be deployed for up to 6 months at a time wherever they need him. Which will be rough.

I'm nursing a post-zoo sunburn, kids. We also have 1000 things to do before were ready for this month of September. What I mean is.. I gotta go. Ill get back soon though faithful followers.

Busy, busy.. not really.

Today I'm trying to keep busy. Because the day before the last time I thought we were going to find out where we're moving wasn't terrible but definitely got long when I wasn't tired enough to sleep at the end of the day. So I'm going to build a house or something today so that I'm freakin' exhausted tonight. Then when Zack gets home tomorrow I will celebrate with a quick post!

I love Shark Week. So much.

The Ultimate Air Jaws show really just gave me hope and freaked me out. Hope because the beaches look so beautiful and soon I will be living close to one and that makes bringing Hank overseas, and putting him through all the crap he's going to have to go through, totally worth it for him to be able to be a beach dog. He's going to LOVE going to the beach. He looooves swimming. Which brings me to my next point. I'm going to be a wreck when he swims in the ocean... I will be watching him like a hawk. What if a shark tries to get my Hank?? I'll kill, cook and eat a biatch for trying. Shark soup, kids. Tell your shark friends.

We are finally having our "home inspection" this Saturday. If my landlord doesn't show up for any reason, I'll probably just burn my house down out of frustration. We cleaned the carpets yesterday, and they look amazing now. Who the hell puts white carpet throughout an ENTIRE house anyways? Nobody with a damn dog, that's for sure. Or a husband, for that matter.

My irritation on the subject comes from nearly 3 months of scheduling and canceling this stupid violation of my privacy. But, whatever. What's the point now anyways? It's been 3 months. If I did have a meth lab, I would have had plenty of time to hide it. Sigh.

So tomorrow morning we find out where were moving. Tomorrow night Zack works his last shift of this cycle before having 3 days off. Saturday is our 3 month wedding anniversary and all the stuff I ordered from Snapfish should be in. However, we do have that stupid inspection. It should be an interesting weekend. Or not. I don't care.

Lastly, my Pops is riding his Harley to Sturgis this weekend and I want everyone to pray for him to be safe, as well as the people with him. Do it.

<3 you, kiddies!

Ninja Baby

"If you have a baby in Japan you should just leave it there. A baby on a 25 hour plane ride would suck. Plus, if you leave it in Japan it has a much better chance of becoming a ninja."-Daniel Lich

I'm gonna be a flippin awesome Mom. I was born to do it. I would say I can't wait, but I can. Am I anxiously awaiting November 24th 2011, when I am promised as much unprotected sex as it takes to get our little baby beautiful eyes? I absolutely am. But in the mean time I will be enjoying several more months of protected sex, partying and sleeping in with my amazing husband. It's no secret that, while Zack and I know we are meant to be with each other, we haven't known one another existed for a super long time and I'm enjoying our time together just us.

I have little to no concerns about most of the process. If all goes to plan our little ninja baby will be born in Guam, Sicily, or Japan and travel home with us to the U.S. when he or she is 9 to 16 months old. The plane ride will undoubtedly suck, but its just one day of our lives, so we will deal.

We already have possible names. We already have a birth plan, for goodness sakes. I'm a planner.

No amount of planning will eliminate the guilt I feel about getting prego and having a baby overseas however. It's obscene. I am going to want my mommy. I am going to want my Dad to meet Baby Williams immediately. I will probably be able to talk them in to an overseas adventure to meet their first Grandbaby. Especially since Zack and I expect baby beautiful eyes to be nothing short of the most amazing baby in history. But my grandparents, the rest of my family, and my friends will probably have to wait to meet our love child.

Which blows.

Also, what about Zack's family? I hope they come see us overseas as well. I miss them. My in-laws are awesome.

I'm going to have to teach everyone to use skype. A lot. And the facebooker that I am its not like any of my nearly 600 friends will miss much.

I can't just put my life on hold and wait until I'm almost 28. Not happening.

Still, this is the only part of having a baby I am not confident about.

Sigh.

Well, guess what else is on my mind tonight girls and boys... moving. Tomorrow morning will be the last morning that I won't know... how crazy is that??

I can't wait to have my brain back.

Today's The Day!

5:23AM It better be the day, anyways. I can NOT physically take the anxiety anymore. So maybe I'm being a little dramatic, I don't care. This, at least to me, is a very big deal. Zack's sleeping schedule is whacked so I finally went to bed at 2 and when he just came in at 5 I woke up and if I had to guess I would say ill be awake until we know. Ahhh! So I'm taking a bubble bath.

Doug told Zack that when he found out he was going to Yokosuka he got a text at 630am informing him of such. So hopefully we will know soon!

I know the suspense is killing you! Ill keep you updated whether you want to be or not!

5:40AM I've decided the rain, which I always love, is a good sign this morning. Not necessarily for a certain place. More like a sign that everything will be ok no matter where we are. We're blessed.

On the other hand it could be an indicator were going to Guam... where it rains every day at least once, like Hawaii. Yokosuka is also rainy. I'm sure it rains in Sicily as well, lol. Fingers are still crossed for Sicily! Ugh. I wish I could go back to sleep!

6:01AM Zack has not snored or made any noise while sleeping (other than the occasional full conversation) since his surgery. Today, out of the blue, while I'm trying to sleep through this morning and he is snoring... of course haha.

6:42AM Well! It's 12 minutes passed when I had hoped to get a Congrats you're going to "Navy Determined Location". I'm going to lose my mind. Its very likely.

6:51AM I hope I find out before Zack wakes up. How cool will it be for me to get to tell him? Ha. Okey... anytime now... I'm ready. Seriously.

7:08 Suddenly I have a frightening and very real concern that the reason we haven't found out yet is because we were rejected like Melissa from the bachelor. I am becoming concerned. Apparently they sometimes reject your picks for orders and you have to try again. I will be so unhappy! Oh please, please, please don't let that be the case!

10:51AM I can't take it anymore. Waking Zack up to find out what's going on is my only option....

11:00AM Well, eff. August 6th??? Are you playing with me. I'm going to have to be sedated until then... so today is NOT the day.

I am an unhappy little Navy wife this morning. Soon enough though. Soon enough. Siiiiiiigh.

More Of The Same

As much as I thought this day would DRAG it hasn't been too bad. I stayed up suuuper late last night and woke up suuuuper early this morning so I could make breakfast for hubster, which he enjoyed very much thank you. So when Zack got home I passed out until like 1230 showered got ready and woke Zack up to go to Danny's partay. And as usual time with the fam just flies by. They're very funny.

So now I'm watching AFV. Which I love. I'm not even going to try to blog about anything fun today. It would just be more of the same. Instead, here are things I've learned today...
*My family is funnier than yours. So I apologize if yours is eating in the same building as mine, and my Dad is carrying around a woody the woodpecker doll he just won hitting people and asking them not to touch his woody.
*My first instinct about my friend's bfs is always right, and often, that sucks.
*Little kids are super funny and I can't wait til people are talking about mine :)
*If you are my friend, and you are attractive, my Dad and my Brother will be creepy to you. There's nothing I can do.
*My mom can be an a-hole, but she's doing the best she can. And she loves me, no matter what.
*My husband is more fun when he's had enough sleep.
*And finally, I've learned, that if today isn't the last day of worrying about where were going my brain is likely to explode.

I type all of these blog posts from my droid and it is infuriatingly difficult. But I <3 all of you and appreciate that you read this, so I suffer through.

Tomorrow is the day! Are you excited???

Location, Location, Location

I am a wreck-asaurus. Not in a bad way. I just have no thoughts other than how many hours, minutes, seconds until we will find out where Zack's duty station is. I can't take it.

I have said it before and ill say it again, I want to go to Sicily. it is an amazing place and it would be so silly for me to prefer anywhere else. I would love Sicily. But the more I research Guam the more I think I could get used to living somewhere beautiful and beachy like that. Japan would be nice, its nice there and there are tons of Navy families there, not to mention that's where Doug is going.

Hm.

Making me crazy.

Also I have Sugarland's "Stuck Like Glue" stuck in my head. All of the time. I wonder if I could learn it in Japanese, or Italian, or whatever language they speak in Guam. Why in the world do I not know that?? I am the research queen. Here's why. Ill tell you. I don't want to research any one place and get too excited and then be dissappointed. So my talent for tricking myself is over-riding my need to know EVERYTHING. Anyways, I love that song.

I should be cleaning. I was. I just can't focus. Plus I feel an obligation to write a post on here about ANYTHING other than my move anxiety.

Tomorrow is my little brother's 19th birthday party. Its so weird. I'm so old.

Ya know what my next thought was while I was typing that? His actual b-day is Monday, that's the day we find out where were going.

I give up.

I just talked to Zackery. Who is silly, and unphased. I love him.

Soon, my faithful followers, soon you will read about something else.

<3 you guys!

Thoughts For Today

Well, I waited until as late as I could to blog about today hoping my thoughts would form some sort of blog topic instead of just thousands of random thoughts. Bad news though, no such luck. I am so consumed with anxiety about finding out where were going I can't... THINK. It's very frustrating.

This morning when my amazing husband got home from work he said the sweetest thing to me while I was only half awake, and it has kept me in a remarkably good mood today. Which is saying something since I had a headache earlier that I was sure was caused by my brain trying to escape via my nose. Anyway, I lived through that and have vowed to make him breakfast tomorrow just for being the best husband ever, just for loving me so much, just for being so cute :)

He has been pretty amazing this week. I was awake watching an infomercial while he was at work and mentioned this sweet redi set go cooking thingy to him and he bought it for me :) and it rocks. He pulled a hairball (MY hairball) out of our plumbing that was a minimum 2 and a half feet long without any sort of complaints. He bought me flowers and candles and a sweet card on another occassion, for no reason. He also is being extremely generous in B-day giving to my baby bro this week and he will be very excited. Oh yeah, he also took my cousins golfing. Among other things. I am so so lucky. And I don't care who knows it.

So tomorrow morning I'm waking up at the butt-crack of dawn so that he can have breakfast waiting for him when he gets home.

Also I applied for like eleventeen more jobs today. Ill be working by the end of next week.



Tomorrow I'm going to write about something awesome, just wait! Ha, hopefully.

I <3 you guys!

Spoons

For some reason the idea of eating Mac and cheese with a spoon literally makes me gag. I was just struggling to feed myself with a fork (I'm sober) and thought about maybe taking a crack at using a spoon and literally had to restrain myself from actually becoming sick. I don't know why this concept is so disgusting to me, but it sure is.

I also have a very real fear of drinking out of an open beverage, as in anything from a can or a cup, that has been out of my sight for even a second-even in my own home- even when I'm home alone. Idk if its because my Dad assured me that if my drink ever left my sight in public I would immediately be drugged, raped, and likely murdered, by a predator, or just some weird phobia I've developed.

I think part of it is that Holly and other adorably gross sailors my husband brings home chew tobacco, and therefore spit nastiness, into various items in my house. If I unsuspectingly drank chew spit I would immediately try to throw myself off the roof of my house. I don't know, I would have to be institutionalized or something.

Gross.

Hank is eating very well since Zack started working nights. I can't eat all or even half of anything I might make and its wasteful to throw it away when it makes him so very happy. Save your don't feed Hank people food comments. It's no matter, I don't care (that's a movie quote no one will recognize). If Mac N Cheese makes him happy, ill give it to him. His life is relatively boring, I do what I can. Plus he's adorable.

Today has been a weird day everybody. I think its clear.

Next Tuesday we will know our future living location and I can start getting Hank the fatty his shots! Start to get the ball rolling!

Awkward

I have 4 followers! This is very exciting.

I am having a weird day, so this could be a weird post.

I am super anxious about moving. I heard that song American Honey in the car this morning. That lyric about "so ready to go, but wasn't quite ready to leave". I am feeling THAT way. It is uncomfortable.

Where will I eat when I don't want to cook? Where will I eat when I try to cook and it is a miserable failure? I can't just hop in the car and go to my parents house.

Where will Zack and I spend our free evenings when we are broke? We love to hang with my family. Even when we're not broke.

Who will I watch the bachelorette with? Who will tell me what books to read? Who will sew me things and go garage sale-ing? I will miss my Grandma SO MUCH.

Who will bother me at unreasonable hours, sleep on my couch, and vomit in my sink? There's no little brother overseas.

I will miss my mom, who makes me nuts, so much. Every. Day. And my Dad who I love more than anything.

What about unreasonably early breakfasts with everyone?

What about texting my aunts or cousins whenever I want for advice? It can't happen overseas.

What about texting Deena whenever I want?

How in the world am I going to function??

On the other hand, I can't wait to be gone. It will be such an awesome experience. I love my husband and I know how lucky I am to get to go with him, and spend this time with him. Our relationship is going to be even more spectacular after this.

I know I'll get to come home occasionally. It will take about as many hours to get home as it takes me minutes to get to my parents now. But whatever.

It's not forever. It's 3 years. It will be ok.. right? I just want everything to be ok.

I. Am. Concerned.

sigh.

Anyway, today I am washing Zack's uniform. I love seeing US NAVY on it. I know that makes me kind of a douche. But whatever, I'm proud =)

The entire time it was in the washing machine I was a nervous wreck that I would somehow ruin it. Don't worry though, folks. Everything turned out fine.

I knew this would be a weird post, ha I apologize. I can't seem to get my thoughts straight today. That's ok. I'll try again later.

THanks for suffering through that with me, everybody.