ammogirl

So, YESTERDAY, the scariest thing in the world EVER happened. It started early in the morning, around 3-ish, when I was woken up by the loudest thunder I have heard in my life. I leaped out of bed, thinking, “holy CRAP” and ran to my window, where, over the next 30 minutes or so, I watched the most incredible lightning storm over the Yellow Sea. I would watch a bit, and then lie back down. Then another flash would happen, and more dorm-shaking thunder, and I would jump back out and run to the window, fully expecting to see trees and buildings on fire, and people running around in a panic. Which I, of course, did not see, because those things did not happen. Anyway, when it was time to leave for work, the storm had died down. DIED DOWN, people. As in, there was no storm. It was bright outside, and while fairly windy, there was no rain, or thunder, or lightning, or a hint of those things happening. So off I went, thinking to myself while I walked, “Gee! This is certainly fine! I am glad it’s no longer storming out!” However, within five short minutes, it was quite apparent that if I did not speed things up a bit, I might end up a little damp, due to the darkening skies and subsequent sprinkle. “Treena,” I said to myself, “your gortex is not quite waterPROOF so much as waterRESISTANT, so I think walking a bit faster might be in order.” By the way, did you notice the complete lack of alarm, in my conversation with myself? Because, as you might have noticed, at this point, I was not alarmed. Ohhh no. Alarm came two minutes later, when I made it to the (open) (flat) (wide) flight line. Alarm, mind you, because this is when the sprinkle turned into LIGHTNING STORM all around me. “Ahhhh!” I thought (and perhaps, maybe, said, out loud) “What do I do!!!” and I walked even FASTER, and ducked with every lightning strike, and then it suddenly became very dark, pitch black, even, and lightning was so close I could SMELL IT, and my level of panic was so great that I was praying out loud and I DON’T EVEN BELIEVE IN GOD (per se, of course), because I thought I was going to get my innards FRIED like a CHICKEN. And at the point where I was about ready to die, whether from lightning strike or pure terror, a truck rolled by and the driver said “Lightning within 5 miles! (um, no shit) We are evacuating the bomb dump!” and I said “Let me in your truck NOW.” And I jumped in the truck, and the.very.second I closed the door, the “lightning storm” turned into “lightning storm plus RAGING MONSOON” and the rain poured down harder than I have ever seen rain pour down in my life, and I am from the COAST OF OREGON.

So, eventually we made it back to work. It was quite exciting, my brush with death, really. And, a few hours later, it happened again, but this time we were safely inside when it rolled in. Although, I must say it was very strange to look out the door at 10:30 am, and see that the day had somehow turned into night. Seriously – it was THAT dark outside. All you could hear was “HOLY CRAP!” when people were stepping into the hallway and seeing the total darkness that was supposed to be 10:30am. These monsoons, they are no joke, I tell you. It is very unfortunate that in a location where so many storms occur, the buildings in the bomb dump are so lacking in lightning protection, because, as you can only imagine, bomb and missile storage + no lightning protection = not a good place to be, really, if you are in a lightning storm. Hence, the evacuating every time we are “lightning within 5”.

We have to give group speeches next week in, well, speech class. Which is good, because group speeches in Korean would probably suck. And be rather short, I would presume. Anyway, so we formed groups last night, and I am the leader, ha ha. I swear I had nothing to do with that. All I said was that we needed to pick a leader, and the other people said it should be me. I protested, for a millisecond long time, but to no avail. And then! I suggested a topic, just for an idea, mind you, but they all said “Hey! Great idea! Let’s do that!” So, to recap: I’m the leader, and we chose my topic, and? I was fine with this. Moving along, my topic: Wellio! I thought that because it is so visible right now, and, I’m sure, a mysterious topic for most people, that it would be humorous/interesting to give a speech about Scientology. What my group and I discovered, after a SHORT bit of research last night, was that “humorous/interesting” could easily be replaced with “wack jobs/crazy people”. Y’all, I really hope none of you are Scientologists, because if you are, I will probably be offending you at some point. Also, I think you are a freak. Does anyone know anything about it? If you don’t, let me give you a few highlights: daily electroshocks. Hmm, is that just one highlight? Well, that’s all you get for now. Okay, fine, one more: descended from an extraterrestrial being named Xenu, about 25million years ago. Crazy, right? I can’t WAIT to give this speech.

By the way, you thought Lindsey’s birthday post made YOU weepy? Imagine me, writing it.

CIAO!

The minute I found out I was pregnant with my first baby, I knew it was a girl, and I knew it was Lindsey. And I loved her, that person growing in my belly, more than I could ever have possibly imagined loving anything. I had a fantastic pregnancy, with no side effects – in fact, after a long night at birthing class listening to other women complain and complain about their horrible side effects, I leaned over to Lindsey’s dad and said, “I don’t think I’m really pregnant!” This continued through the entire 40 weeks, and even the night I had her, I was symptom-less. I remember sheepishly saying, “I think my water might have broken…” and calling my mom at 3am saying exactly that. “Are you having contractions?” “No…” “Well, I guess just go to the doctor anyway, if you are worried.” And off we went, expecting to hear from the nurse and doctor: “You are certainly not in labor, please go home.” What we ACTUALLY heard from the nurse and doctor: “Honey, you aren’t going anywhere…you’re having this baby RIGHT NOW.” And, approximately 2 hours after that, there was Lindsey.
Lindsey was perfect from the minute she entered this world. I swear to god, she never cried, she ate well, she slept for 6 hours straight through at night starting at two weeks old. If I had any sort of regret about having her, it was only that I had to share her with other people. She was an angel. At four months old, she traveled in a car from New Mexico all the way up to Alaska – while teething – and never cried. Not once.

When Lindsey was 4 she decided she would start picking out her outfits herself.  They were always just right, and she was always adorable.

The same thing with her hair - I have not had to "do" her hair since she was six.  With stuff like this, being her mom has ALWAYS been easy.

As she grew, so did her obvious natural athletic ability. She taught herself everything – gymnastics: perfect. Running: fast. Softball, soccer, volleyball, even football: superstar. She has gotten straight A’s on every report card since the 4th grade. This is a girl who volunteers to give speeches in front of her school, and who is headed to Washington D.C., to compete in the National History Day competition, because her project won the division, for the state of Alaska.

Sometimes I look at this girl, this baby of mine, this perfect thing that I and her dad created, and am completely in awe. She tells awful, horrible jokes, and knows it, but tells them anyway. She loves that her friends call her a dork. She can read an 800 page book in 5 days. She is obsessed with animals, and it hurts her heart when she sees something in pain.

She is compassionate. She is caring. She is self-confident. She is a social butterfly. She loves to sing, and she is not afraid to do it in front of people. She plays the violin. She is fearless. She had a security blanket named Deedee, and stores it in her closet, and even though she thinks she is very, very sneaky, I know she sometimes takes it out and cuddles with it.

She is strong willed, this daughter of mine, and stubborn, and very, very crafty when it comes to her sister at times. She doesn’t like to hear the word no. We have fought – oh yes. She is very much like me, and the battle of wills we can engage in, and the level at which this young person can infuriate me so quickly is astounding. I have given her 9 million lectures, and they are almost always about her attitude and the arch she gets in her eyebrow when she is mad. That eyebrow arch, grrrr…insto-piss, trust me. She has this horrible habit of getting nervous and smiley when she is getting yelled at, and I know she can’t help it, and even though it makes things worse, sometimes? She laughs. This, as you can imagine, is not amusing. But when we fight, and she storms off, and slams her door, and pouts and hates us and the world, it is not long before she opens that door back up and says so quickly, “I am sorry.” And I always forgive her, because she is hard to resist.

When she was born, I would hold her on my chest, in my arms, on my lap. Two years ago, she started wearing my shoes. One year ago, they almost didn’t fit her. Today, her shoes would be too big for me, and she is 5’1”. But to me, she will forever be my little baby. She is everything to me, my sweetpea, and she is twelve today.

Happy Birthday, Lou. I love you.

24 hours of pee is equal to one gallon. One gallon of pee is equal to NINE POUNDS of sloshing heaviness. I am telling you this in case you are ever playing medical trivia. Trust me, it was heavy, and awkward, and by the time I carted that container (in a double grocery bag, mind you) the mile from my dorm to the clinic, I was about ready to die. I mean, 9 lbs by itself is no big deal, but when it is sloshing around in a flexible container? Well, all I have to say is I hope they got what they needed from it, for realz. And the actual collecting of the pee? It was…um…well, it was nothing to write about, really. I peed in the white bowl-type thing, and then I poured the pee in the jug. Just your basic pee n’ pour, you know. But, because I know you want me to: for your viewing pleasure, one gallon of pee:

Are you wondering why I didn’t post Sunday? It was because I was so busy trying to not fail my 24 hour urine test. Ha ha. No, not really, I was actually doing all three classes homework, and it was extremely time consuming, and by the time I got done, I hated my computer so much, and the thought of typing up a post made me ill. And, so I skipped a day, but it was Easter anyway, and nobody should have been sitting in front of a computer, but finding eggs and eating candy corn and Cadbury Crème Eggs and ham. But especially Cadbury Crème Eggs. I did not do anything Easter related, myself, because the Egg Hunt I said I volunteered for? I forgot to add that they took the first people who responded to their email, and apparently I was not quick enough. In the end, I think it worked out for the best, though, considering I spent Saturday dying a slow death by vomit, and that was not conducive to getting homework done.

So, the saga of Friday night continues. Bri, who was also out drinking on Friday night, said she saw us heading back towards base at 10:30pm. Let’s think about that. We started drinking at 8:45pm. We were headed home at 10:30pm. This means that all that alcohol? It was consumed in 1 hour and 45 minutes. No freaking WONDER I was so out of my mind. Anyway, when I made it to work Monday morning, I ran into our Admin person, Demeita. She had gotten a very cute haircut this weekend, and so I said, “Demeita! You have a very cute haircut!” and she looked up, saw me, got a VERY distressed look in her eyes, and said, “I am SO SORRY about Friday night…I was so drunk…” whereupon I stared at her blankly for a moment or two, before saying what really should be obvious to you, knowing how MY particular evening went, “Um, I don’t remember SEEING you on Friday night, sooo, whatever you are sorry for, I guess it’s no big deal!” And then I frantically scurried over to my computer and typed up an email to Matt that said “did we see Demeita Friday night? WHAT HAPPENED? I DON’T REMEMBER!!!” but…He doesn’t remember either. He did say that on the way home I was very friendly with everyone, yelling as loud as I could to whoever I saw “HI! HOW ARE YOU? WHAT IS YOUR NAME? WHERE DO YOU WORK? OKAY BYEEEEEE!!” and that apparently I burned my hand on the bag of Yaki and screamed fairly loudish INSIDE THE RESTAURANT. Which: so very impressive, yes? THIS, people, is why my husband LOVES it when I drink excessively – I am SO MUCH FUN! Seriously, lest any of you think I do this all the time, I DON’T, absolutely. I mean, there is drinking, and then there is DRINKING, and there are very few times in my life that I have drank to this level of extreme. In fact, I can count them on the fingers of one hand: in 1989, when I was living with my Aunt in England (Vodka), in 1998, at CAS-B school (Goldschlager – ew), in 2000, with Christy, the night before Christmas Eve (a little bit of everything – ew), and in 2003, at a Christmas party (Tequila – ew). Anyway, blahdy blahdy blah, I’m not an irresponsible drinker, is all I want to point out.

My work email is STILL not working, so if you have sent me an email in the past two days, or have been expecting an email from me, it’s just not happening right now. It’s SO annoying – everyone keeps calling and telling me “hey, I sent you an email about (X), could you please figure it out?” And “hey, did you figure out that problem yet? I sent it to you about 20 minutes ago” And “I was just checking to see if had gotten around to that problem yet?” And all I can say, over and over and over is: “My email is not WORKING”.

Anddd…April 18th is my nephew Farris’ birthday! Farris is the sweet baby boy of my fabulous sister Kathy, and she obviously passed on her genes of gorgeousness to him, since his current occupation happens to be that of a model. In addition to that, he’s also a great person, and really grand to hang out with. Happy birthday, Farris!

CIAO!