Dear Darla Diaries

my happy thoughts to you ...

First off ... Mr D's gorilla trunk beat him back from Mars. That's a concrete sign he's coming home! And hopefully I'll get me some soon! Some love you preverts, and I completely understand!

Secondly, I get to have some mad family love this weekend. I'm bolting out of town immediately after work and heading to my twin's house. I get to surprise my nephews and my mommy who don't know I'm coming. My daddy, sis and bro-in-law are in it up to their pretty little eye balls. MrD has been gone for.ev.er and I can use some sibling smothering.

And ... in case I don't get to tell you ... or just haven't ...

to you and yours

Happy Turkey Day to You and Yours! May you appreciate the unnoticed things in your life and cherish all the little things! I thank each and every one of you for every second you've taken to read my blog! My heart to yours ... Darla

blow it up

I just posted a FREE FURNITURE ad on Craigslist to give away an old table/chair set and recliner. I thought it was a brilliant idea to post our NEW home number with the effective date of tomorrow for the availability. Part of the reasoning was that the home number isn't full effective until tomorrow. (The other reason being I didn't want to dish out my personnel cell.) Slight problem I didn't forsee ... just because Com.c.ast isn't showing up until tomorrow doesn't mean the CALLER ID DOESN'T WORK.

I had forgotten about that discovery from last night. In fact yesterday it was quite hilarious, just now not so much. Yesterday I was watching Medium when Call FROM VA 123-456-7890 blinked across the screen. I started panicking because it looked like the line MrD uses when calling from the desert. Hilarious is when you find yourself running around frantically looking for a phone ... that wasn't ringing ... OR SET UP YET.

Back to five minutes.

No sooner did I hit save on the Craigslist ad than the Caller ID starts overlapping itself with calls. YA me for not giving out my cell number at 9:35p and hurrah for getting rid of furniture that's just clogging up my home but oops for all those people that can't read a Craigslist ad. Keep on blowing it up!

not so surprising actually

Had a slamming weekend in DC with my baby sister. [insert all appropriate slang for AWESOME, amazing, great, killer, etc etc etc.] Before I share the vacation bits the travel drama is begging to be told.

As all west coast to east coast trips should go, the flights were drastically opposite coming and going. Departing Washington state all flights were on time, seat mates were a riot, no luggage complications and managed to connect perfectly with my sisters arrival time to the airport on the east  coast.

Returning from Baltimore, MD (practically Washington DC) was a whole other ball of wax. The first flight was delayed nearly two hours due to the seasons first snow storm at the connecting layover in Minneapolis. (Lucky for me my connecting flight out of New York was also extremely delayed.) I managed to get on my connecting flight with 10 minutes to spare where I was surprised by running into my duplex-sharing-neighbor on the plane AND the enjoyment of sitting in the plane on the runway for nearly an hour before they released us to head west. The flight itself was fine but the migraine skulking through my skull, chased by the sinus flu crud, was merely an icing to the Your Luggage Is Lost Lost Lost cake.

I stood next to a man named John at the baggage counter, for nearly an hour, plucking hairs out of my tired scalp one strand at a time while we firmly established Mr Baggage Man hadn't the slightest clue where or why our luggage hadn't beat us in. I crawled into my waiting friends car mentality preparing myself for the fact that the majority of my good clothes, tourist items and bathroom gear could be utterly and completely LOST. 

Today dawned fairly early after a 11 hour nap. My pets are at their full obnoxious potential. Every time I close my eyes to nap Dude tries to crawl inside my skin while he purrs his whiskers off. Sue is snuggled up as close to my body as she can get too. Can't really blame them, between me leaving them home alone for a few days [yes they had a sitter/feeder] and the house temp being 60F even with the house thermometer being set at 80.

Right now I have a stupid head cold. I feel like crap and only worked like 5 hours. I am also super happy because the Delta people delivered my VERY LOST luggage today at 9a and saved me spending a lot of money on things like replacement bras, glasses, tourist bits and my fantastic camera WITH ALL MY PHOTOS ON IT. It sucks to be plowing through work after a vacation when you can't breathe and are stuck wearing the bottom of your closet because the cute fitting cloths were somewhere in nomansland. I am in a jovial mood even after all that, ironically, hopefully later this week I'll have energy to get the rest of the chores done.

P.S. Did you know you can drink your weight in thera-flu (liquid cold medicine mixed with hot water) and it is so much easier than swallowing pills that could choke a baby monkey? Delicious and medicinal!

just a sunday afternoon

I will spent the entire day from the wee hour of 6a through far past his bedtime watching this little fellow today. His parents were enjoying the Chicago Bears - Seattle Seahawks game in Seattle. They are avid Chicago fans. Good thing Chicago won and made it worth their 9 hr round trip drive.

another baby wanting a baby

This fresh faced, self-claimed mature, new hire sat in front of me prattling merrily about how her upcoming medical procedure was so hard to schedule because it was based on her mense. Than it clicked. She was discussing an HSG [remember my introduction to Mr Rogers?]. This young girl was defending her decision to go through fertility treatments after only 2 years sans birth control. God bless her little heart and her highly active and regular ovaries. “I ovulate like clockwork on day 15 and I have been tracking it for months on my OPK.” I never once attacked or was aggressive in her decision but you can tell the poor very almost teen was carrying the weigh of the world on her shoulders. I couldn't imagine the barrage of unwanted advice that would've rained down on me if I would've gotten married at 18 and sought infertility advice at 20.

So young. A decade divides us. I had to resist the urge to mother and natter on about waiting a little while. Yes, you are mature for your age (based on my 2 minutes of getting to know you?). Yes, I don’t doubt that you will love your baby with your slightly uneducated heart and soul (although I haven't a drop of knowledge of your history of babies or childcare). Are you really ready, I wanted to ask. Do you even know what READY means? But I didn’t. I suggested my specialist’s office. I recommended she be prepared for IVF not being the first and immediate reaction from the doctor’s based on only the military doctor’s simple opinions and a single HSG. So excited and eager and full of that wiggly puppy syndrome. So young and naïve and wrapped in the promises of rainbows and fairies and the stepford military wife syndrome.

Crazily and a bit surreal after all the drama she asked me if the medicine was working. I hated to squash her bubble with a snide and sarcastic Apparently Not. I instead casually mentioned that currently he was deployed, so though the meds make work ... besides what's another month. Time is such a malleable thing.

lightsaber madness

I promised him a light saber. First vendors booth into the local county fair he spotted it. Please can I have a light saber Darla? He whispers overdramatically. His mother catches wind of what I'm up too and rolls her eyes.

You spoil them. You KNOW you do.

I know, I know, they will only be young once and eventually I'll have my own to spoil.

The heat wraps us in an oppressive fog.

We weave through food booths narrowly avoiding carnies and vendors hawking their wares and promises of free toys alike.

I feel a small hand tugging my arm. Can I just have a light saber now? The whisper again.

Soon, soon  I reply, standing in line for him to ride the merry-go-round while his mother patiently waited with the older brother at a tilty-dive-adult style of ride. Minutes and rides roll into a near hour. Mother and I finally cave and look at an occasional vendor between the occasional ride and carnival game and start to panic. The elusive light saber nowhere to be found. You know he won't forget, she tells me. I know, I know, I respond on autopilot scanning the myriads of inflatable nunchuks, spider men and goofy glasses piled precariously on wobbly carts with underenthused teenagers exchanging money with harried parents and fellow fair attendees.

Finally we strike pay dirt at the last vendor by the gate, and first vendor we visited upon entering three hours prior as we are exiting the far almost empty handed. I was starting to get concerned, she nudges me. You and me both, I reply, quite honestly.

Lightsabers: $7
Fair entry: $12
The look on their faces in the dim car as strobing lights flicker across their satisfied grins: PRICELESS

lessons learned

Over the weekend I've learned a few lessons. Some would bear not repeating, others both exhilarating and downright hilarious.

1. Breakfast buffet = sick joke to the severely hungover. If I can't walk a straight line navigating a row to get food is downright dirty.

2. My brother was discharged from prison. We've been enjoying nonstop texting, chatting and phone conversations since Friday afternoon. The plus side [among many] was I had a late night phone buddy while stuck in the middle of nowhere downtown Portland and more than slightly inebriated.

3. Road rage can be a kharmaic b*tch. This car was pushing pulling and pressing me down the interstate at a constant minimum of 10mph over the posted speed limit. When I was finally able to smidgen out of his way the bright red jhetta flew by me and right into the arms of the state trooper. I giggled. Quite loudly and repeatedly I might add.

4. 1/2 of a beer pint glass does not a shot glass make. A stack of very overflowing liquor was part of my demise that involved a long and probably slightly exaggerated drunken conversation to my newly released brother via the cell outside a lonely bar and vomiting for a better part of an hour in the hotel the following morning before having to embark on a 6 hour roadtrip to return home.

5. Blood really is the tie that binds. After many years of no or very little conversation followed by regular and stilted pen pal conversations my brother, twin and I have found ourselves in a very constant chat. It's especially cute and slightly surreal when he tries to find you a designated drinking buddy or yell at your auto repair store for you. Protective is screaming his name.

6. Absence makes the heart grow stronger. Not only is my hubby at the 33% mark in another company, his mom and my mom-mate for that entire time is going 'home' to spoil her grandbaby and co for the next 30 days. Sigh, though it will be an appreciated silence it will be eerily quiet in the house. The bickering will be between a canine, a feline and a human. The canine's silence usually trumps the feline's howling yiddish but in this case the human's shrill baritone may ring a close second.

another instinctively feeble blog

Tick tock goes the cherry red clock on the wall.

I wish I was exercising right now.

A twenty minute set of box jumps and push ups would liven things right along.

I can’t believe it’s only 2:30p.

Can I justify a reason to leave early without using my vacation time? I believe I can!

It’s nice to see my watch working today, speaking of time. I was a little sad yesterday to realize that due to lack of use the Eco-Drive on my Citizen was feeling neglected and was on the verge of a rebellion. Instead of the steady tick-tock it was stuttering and only ticking every other second or so running a few minutes behind, hours depending on the moment. I’d reset it, rub it, fondle it, press it deep into my skin willing the Eco back into the Drive. The watch was one of the first married gifts I received from MrD and with him being d.ployed I’m feeling especially nostalgic of late. Silly since I imprinted our favorite quote on a third of my back a few weeks ago. Permanently.

I feel like a scene from Wanted, except instead of the office troll aggressively slamming a stapler in the proximity of my head while a vein pulses out of my forehead the crickets are chirping and the paint is slowly peeling down the wall. The silence is deafening and the feeble sound creaking out of my single computer speaker isn’t quite breaching the depths.

Ooh look. Stray kettle roasted peanuts. Handle for me and another handle for me.

I believe I’m eating out of a boredom.

I believe I’m blogging at *ahem* home out of boredom.

What ever gave me the impression that helping people and being slightly organized equaled enjoying the process of getting there?

Paperwork is droll and as much as everything needing a home and a home for everything I’d rather leave the paperwork in the ‘to file’ pile than thumbing through it for another 60 minutes.

Tick tock. 40 minutes and counting.

The longest Thursday in the world.

With only work email access there is no blog reading, news viewing and my conscience prevents unnecessary mass printing on paper.

Another week down and another week closer to MrD returning.

Another week of attempting better eating habits and trying to buzz through the work day to fly through the evening.

Another 120 hours evaporated into thin air.

Another week of nothing big enough, bloggable enough, attention getting enough to share with the world.

Just this measly sad lethargic post.

You like?

just a regular break

Spending the entire weekend wallowing with a friend and cohort who returned recently from a 6-week hiatus and is childless for the next 6 days. (Her husband is also deployed.) Must rejuvenate in the girl time while relaxing for a bit.