Friday, May 4, 2012

Clothing Optional

So we live in Europe where nudity is acceptable. Actually, they don't have the nekkid issues we do. Completely nude spas, oh and they are co-ed. Topless sunbathing. Men in barely-there speedos. So ok. You get used to the porn on television after 10pm. You stop gawking at the porn plastered on the screens at the bars. It becomes part of the culture. You learn to deal.

(Enter stage left- The Princess)

She is acclimating quite well to this new culture. She is a nudist.

There I said it. I should feel better facing the truth but NO I don't feel better.

She would rather be naked. She said so herself. She doesn't like clothing. She doesn't particularly like underwear.

This is really scary! She's built quite shapely (much to mine and her Dad's chagrin) and she has legs that seem to stretch across the Atlantic. We won't even talk about her bubble butt, which used to be SOOOO cute when she was 4 and now at 17 I wish I could lop off with a spork!

She walks around the house in her bra and underwear. She forgets to close her blinds when she is dressing. She HAS NO FRIGIN' SHAME! She was walking around in her underwear last weekend when our friend's 15 year old walked into our hotel room. He was all dumb struck and stuttery, she was all "it's like a bathing suit bottom anyways".

Really??? Seriously??? Do you know how awkward that apology is? Went something like this:

Me: "Oh yea....sorry J. I don't know what she was thinking when D came in and she was in her t-shirt and underwear?"

J: awkard laughter "it's whatever! She is right it is like a bathing suit bottom."

Next day. Family football. Our family versus theirs. Princess in spanks and that's it. No one else knew she was free jaying but I did. That was enough.

I sit here shaking my head thinking when did I start raising a nudist? When did my sweet innocent little monkey turn into this alien from planet Teendom?

The worst part is that she isn't coy about it. She isn't flaunting or flirty with her body image. She is just comfortable with who she is and that is great. That is what makes this whole thing so difficult! Do I condone this newfound freedom or do I squash her self-image and tell her nudity is wrong? There has to be a happy medium. We won't even get into the options she has for clothing these days. Talk about parading around damn near naked. Clothing options for teens are either booty shorts or short booty shorts.

Fuck. {insert frustration and confusion here}

I should've seen it coming when she was 3. She loved streaking. She would rip her underwear off and run around the house "nakey." She would shriek with laughter and tell me "Look Ma, I nakey! Look my hiney ma!"

Yea... I should have stopped it then. Oh wait! I did.

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Thursday, May 3, 2012

What is the point?

This is going to be a long ranty kinda aimless bitchfest so if you are not interested in reading it just scroll to the bottom and click on the VOTE FOR ME! banner and your job here is complete. Oh and Thank You for voting if you do! 

Otherwise, don't say I didn't warn you. ;)

The title of the post says it all: What is the point? That is the burning question in my mind. I have a ton of little things that are going on in my life right now, and as a friend so eloquently put "it's a first world problem" and I know this. However, since most of my followers are friends and all of us are first world inhabitants, then I don't feel bad ranting about my first world life. :)

I will go at this by points otherwise this post might never end. So, What is the point? 
  1. I have been working out since January. I have been exercising, lifting weights, and I even joined Weight Watchers. I was doing great! I had lost 9 lbs and was working my way down the scale. Then hubby came home from deployment. I continued to exercise and I actually started working out at a higher intensity level, pushing myself harder. Since he has been home, I started running and was actually able to run a 5K, which is 3.2 miles. Doesn't seem like a whole heckuva lot but for someone who has NEVER been a runner, that is a great accomplishment. Then why the fuck is the scale creeping up in numbers? Why have I gained back 4 lbs since he got home? I'll tell you why. It's because of what we eat. It is so much easier to watch your portions and what you make when you are cooking for two kids and yourself. I don't know why the minute you introduce another adult into the equation the caloric intake triples. I am so pissed off! I am pissed at myself. I am pissed at the scale. I am pissed at my body for not cooperating. I'm pissed at genetics for not gracing me with an overactive metabolism. Instead I got the lazy friggin metabolism that needs to be jump started with battery jumper cables. I'm just pissed off at the whole situation. I want to make this weight loss thing my bitch, but I am not sure how anymore. I am not sure how to go about getting the pounds off and NOT depriving myself of the things I like. Hell I have all but given up chocolate. I can't tell you the last time I had a piece of chocolate. Just to put this into perspective on how much I love chocolate and how I have sacrificed it for my vanity, hubby was given a Snickers at the gas station after filling up the car (its AAFES way of saying thank you for letting us ass rape you at the pump). I didn't TOUCH the Snickers. I wanted to. I wanted to sink my teeth into that deliciousness of chocolate, caramel and nuts. But I didn't. Isn't that commitment? And how does my body repay me? GAINING WEIGHT! Fucker. I am going to keep at it because I will conquer this body if I have to break it down to do it. And considering how badly my shins and ankles hurt, that might happen sooner rather than later.
  2. Next on the list is this job/working bullshit. The last duty station we left was on the East Coast, DC area. I was working as a teacher. Had a good job teaching HS History. Loved it! Got my Master's degree while we were stationed there. We knew we were going to move here about 9 months out. So what do I do as a responsible mother and military wife? I applied early for jobs so that I could attempt to transition into a job for the 2011-2012 school year and things would be good. I didn't hear anything from DoDDS (Department of Defense Dependents Schools). So when I arrived here in July, I hit the pavement and dropped off my resume to the two high schools in hopes that a face-to-face would help my cause. NOTHING! So I applied for a sub job.  My plan was to get in the door and get some face time, hoping something would turn up. BAH! This is your government in action folks, or should I say inaction. No calls. Nothing. So one night we are out at a local Irish Pub, I jokingly ask if they need another server/bartender. They say yes, and within two weeks I have a job working at the Pub. Then all of a sudden AFTER the school starts, I get a call from the Intermediate School (grades 3-5). They want me as a sub. SHHHIIITT! I am not really qualified to teach this age group, nor do I want to. But I figure get your foot in the door and then you can sub at the high school. NOPE. Once you are picked for a school you are a sub at that school ONLY. No inter-school movement. REALLY? Blah blah. I say yes. Do all the paperwork. Blah Blah. Fast forward to not really working that much as a sub. Blah. Blah. Still working at the Pub. Blah Blah. Pub money is paying for traveling. That is nice. Hubby wants me to look for work again as a teacher. Ok. So I try again since they have just re-registered for next year the numbers are up and I am guessing they might need teachers. WRRROONGG! I email the principal and get a resounding 'NO new teachers for Social Studies'. WTF? Every other department BUT Social Studies will get a new teacher? Whatever. So I update my application and try again. Now I am waiting. So now we get to the What's the Point part. There are several positions coming up as a teacher's aide. I would be the teacher's office bitch essentially, and probably help out with special needs kids. Not what I want, but I can hang with it. Problem is that I would be making anywhere between $10.35-$11.00 an hour. Now that is my WHAT IS THE POINT issue. What is the point of leaving the Pub which is "straight" euros, and I only have to work 2-3 nights a week, for a 30-40 hr work week? I have to pay taxes on my wages, work a long week, potentially give up my workouts, all for little money.
  3. Going along with this work thing is the possibility of us moving a year earlier than we had anticipated. We are supposed to be here in Deutschland until 2014, however this summer is promotion time. The military does promotions differently based on branch of service. The Army has different methods depending on what rank you are. Hubby is high enough in rank that promotions are based on peer evaluations done by a board. So in other words HIGHLY subjective. A board sits and reviews his records against a check list of what these particular board members are looking for in a candidate and if he makes the cut, great. If not, thanks for playing, try again next year. We really don't know what the board is looking for or if he will make it. (I personally think he will, but that is my opinion and what do I know?) If he makes it, that means we leave next summer. So what is the point of taking a full time job then if we might leave in a year? We already know that if we are going to leave next summer (2013) that means traveling is going to be ratcheted up a notch to get in all the things we want to do before we leave. So how does more traveling and a full time job go together? More money? Yes. I thought about that too, but with no real free time that leaves Saturday and Sunday for traveling. OOOOHHH I forgot to mention that NOTHING is open in Europe on Saturdays and Sundays. They take their rest time SERIOUSLY! So weekend only traveling will be challenging. So again I ask what's the point?
  4. Oh yea, this blog. Yeah. I love my blog. I love that I have followers. Lately I have been on this kick to rename my blog. I think its because I want more followers and readership. I want it to be successful.  I don't think my choice in name draws in the readership. I could be wrong considering this is my first blog. Don't know. Success: that is the hard part. How does one measure the success of one's blog? Is it in followers? How many people have LIKEd the Facebook page? (Didn't know I had a Facebook page? Go like it and make me feel better!)The commentary on your posts? What exactly makes a blog successful? Furthermore, why do I want it to be successful? Is this a form of validation for what I feel has become an insignificant existence? Now that the children are older and pretty much grown, do I need this for affirmation? Is it because I don't have a full time job that I feel this is my thing now? What is the point of the blog? It started as a way to vent but being the competitive beotch that I am, I started looking at other blogs and seeing just how successful other blogs were. And I thought to myself "I can do that too!" So is that my motivation for success? Am I looking for my 15 seconds of fame?  It's the why that perplexes and frightens me. What is the point of a successful blog? Still something I need to answer, but not sure that I will ever find the answer.
  5. Family and friends. I do know the point of them, but its the communication with them that bothers me. My dad, whom I love dearly, is the absolute BEST at texting and Voxing (smart phone app that allows you to use phone as walkie talkie and is great for overseas commo). Dad will send "hey I was thinking of you" Voxs. He messages just to check on the kids and is really just awesome about it! Which is a HUGE surprise because Dad is just arriving to the technology age with his recent step into the FB world. Mom and other family members: the WORST! Quite frankly I am tired of trying to keep up communication with people who don't feel it really matters. If you don't give a shit enough to text me back or Vox me back, then I don't have any more time for you. I am tired of working so hard to save relationships that are not worth saving. As a military wife, you make friends everywhere you go. Some are seasonal friends you keep while you are stationed there and they serve their purpose. Some are forever friends that you keep beyond the departure of that duty station. Those are the ones cultivating. Its a shitty lesson to learn but one that gets taught every time you move. So what's the point of trying with those that don't want to try back? There is no point. As for the family, well those people I am stuck with. So I just need to accept their shortcomings and move on. For the record, they suck! Really, I need to shuddup and move on!
Now I know that I have rambled about many a different topic, and that it probably doesn't make sense. So I will say that if you are reading this right now, thanks. You cared enough or weren't bored enough by my post to stop reading. And that means something to me, especially since I need validation about my blog! ;) LOL  I am not sure I will ever get to the bottom of the points of these matters, but they are on my mind and I figured if I can't unleash them here, what's the point?

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Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Hey It's Ok...

I try to link up with the Whispering Writer for a feature she does  "Hey It's Okay Tuesdays." I love the freeness of the topic, but usually have a hard time getting in on Tuesdays. This week was no exception. :)
Thanks for the Tuesday inspiration on Wednesday Amber!

Hey It's Ok...

* That I have very little clue what's going on in the world since I don't have cable. I can't really watch the news and I don't enjoy reading articles on the web. Whomever coined the phrase ignorance is bliss was spot on!

*To be embarrassed to have met the new incoming commander after I just got done with a 4 mile run. Couldn't. Breathe. *heave ho*  Smelled. Like. Ass.  Oh well!

* To have eaten devoured 3/4 bag of Salt and Pepper Kettle Chips. YUM! Right after biking 7 miles and running 1.5 miles. Isn't that the best time to eat them?

*To be back on the "rename my blog" kick. I have a ton of ideas, but I still can't find the right one. It's very f-ing frustrating. DAMMIT!

*To be happy and proud of myself for being able to run 4 miles without puking, passing out or even dying (which I thought would be a good solution for ending the madness of running). 

*To be UNhappy about shin splints, cramps and oversized boobs in a sports bra. 

* To get angry when someone speaks to me in German and I politely say "Ich spreche kein Deutsch" and they rattle off more German. HELLO???? I just said in your language that "I don't speak German".  Actually had a women say to me (in English) that I spoke great German, and continued to speak to me in German. Really?? Mastering one phrase is not mastering the entire language, but thanks for the compliment. 

* To be sad that Bear did not get voted as Patrol Leader (Boy Scouts). He was bummed out for a hot minute or 15, but it's nothing Xbox can't cheer up. Thanks Microsoft!

* To find it amusing that my 11 year old was asking me about CISPA (new legislation) and I knew very little about it. He was concerned about his rights. That's muh smart boy!

* That I almost always post this on Wednesday and not on Tuesdays.

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Monday, April 30, 2012

Top Shelf Food

I LOVE to eat. I enjoy cooking and finding new recipes, and I'm a pretty damn good cook as well. I love to try new foods. I love traveling to new places and heading to an off-the-beaten path restaurant. So you could safely say food is an essential part of my happiness. Hence the extra pounds I am trying to shed, but that is not the point here. 

What I don't enjoy about food is how I ALWAYS manage to miss my mouth at least once during a snack, meal or other face stuffing experience. It never fails. It's rarely the first few bites. Those bites usually makes it in intact. Probably because I am shoveling it in.

However, somewhere after like the 4th or 5th bite I either grow a hole in my chin or the distance from the plate to my mouth somehow changes by like π  squared. Maybe it's greed or hunger, or fear that someone will reach into my plate and start nibbling away at my treats.  At this point I usually miss my mouth. 

This wouldn't be so funny if I was 6 months old and still wearing a bib. It wouldn't be so bad if it fell on the napkin in my lap or hell back on the plate would work too!

NOOOOO. It always lands on the "top shelf", as hubby calls it. 

Women with C cups or better know what I am talking about. There must be a magnet that women with large boobs have that creates a gravitational pull forcing food, drink, and all other staining items right down onto this black hole. It's annoying and sometimes embarrassing. 

Within the last week I have had two embarrassing incidents with Top Shelf Food.

The other morning Hubby made breakfast. Awesome scrambled eggs with all kinds of fresh veggies and cheese in them. Delish! I'm shoveling eggs in my face and next thing you know a bit of the scrambled eggs drops between my boobs. Now mind you its Sunday morning and I hadn't bothered with a "real" bra, so I am in a sports bra. Hubby rounds the corner to bring me juice and what does he see? My hand wrist deep between my tits fishing out eggs. I'm trying to clean up and he thinks its an invitation to explore. Maybe he thought he was being helpful. Who knows?

What's he do? He dives in, motorboat first to get some "egg flavored boobies." Thank goodness the kids were all done with their breakfast and scattered to the four winds. What a morning treat that would have been? Dad head first in Mom's boobs cleaning up the "egg flavored boobies."

This top shelf food can be unpredictable! 

Another incident happened in a restaurant. So there we were on Friday night eating at a restaurant in this military friendly resort. Now mind you, it had been one of the most horrific drives I had experienced in a while. After a 4.5 hour drive turned into 7 hrs, we were ready for a meal. The ONLY restaurant available to us was a very American one in the resort. I decide to order a burger with fries, because it was the only thing on the menu I thought they couldn't fudge up. WRONG.  But neither here nor there. 

I'm sitting there eating our appetizer of stale chips and weak salsa. And I drop a chip. 

I look on the floor. Not there. 

Look on the table. Nope.

I look between my legs. Still nothing. 

So I do what any other like minded individual would do, I reach for another chip thinking maybe I was losing my mind about having dropped a chip. Until I go to stuff another one in my mouth, and VOILA! There is the lost chip, right on the top shelf perched on my shirt between both boobs. 

I quickly extract the Lost Chip from no man's land and glance up to see if Hubby is watching. What do you think? 

Busted! He chuckles and says "I was watching you to see if you would find that chip."

"Really? You're watching me search for a chip that is sitting on my tits? Thanks babe!"

Lucky for me he decided that motor boating my boobs wasn't appropriate in a restaurant. ;)

Do you have a funny Top Shelf Food story? Please share! I would love to hear that I am not the only one dropping all kinds of crap onto my chest. 

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