ammogirl

You know what’s really hard?  Knowing that you are going on vacation in two and a half weeks, and that you will be seeing, finally, after nine long months, your daughters again, but you still have to get THROUGH those TWO and a HALF LONG ASS WEEKS.  Did I ever mention I have no patience?  None?  As in, negative patience?  Because it’s true, by the way.  I hate waiting, I hate anticipating, I hate counting down, I just want things to BE RIGHT NOW.  Anyway, so work sucks, because I can’t concentrate, and throw in my raging hormonal mood swings…

Waaaiittt a minute, work certainly did not suck today! I’m not sure where I was going with that, because in fact, work happened to be quite fabulous!  See, first off, the air conditioning was finally fixed in our building, so overnight, my office went from the one everyone would say "MAN it’s so HOT in here!" (my standard reply: "Yeah.  Why do you think we’re always so cranky? (now get the fuck out)", to "MAN!  It’s really cold in here!"  And it’s true!  Yesterday, we were bitching and griping about "it’s sooo hoooootttt in heeeerrrreeee!" but today, by 8:30am, the tune had changed to "I’m freezing.  Huh."  Funny, that.  But, good news, all the same!  Because you guys, it was REALLY hot, I’m not kidding.  In fact, I almost stabbed Matt in the eye yesterday when I walked into the office after gym and found he had stolen MY fan and placed it directly on HIS desk.  Seriously - I was pissed.  But, hoooottttttt!  It was so hot that we would go outside to cool off - it was a good 20 degrees warmer in our office, for reals.  And apparently when the A/C went out LAST summer, during August it got up to about 110 degrees INSIDE THE OFFICE.  INSIDE. THE. OFFICE.  So, hopefully THIS summer, the A/C does not break, or I might spontaneously combust, or my brain will boil away in a puddle of goo.

So that was the FIRST reason why work was good, but the SECOND reason was some stealthy ninja-like individual snuck into our office and unbeknownst to ANYONE sitting RIGHT THERE, as in ALL OF US, plunked a large box down on the desk that happens to be located directly in the CENTER of the office and that large box was full of dah dah dahhhh…GIRL SCOUT COOKIES!  BOXES of them!  No Thin Mints sighhh….but Samoas!  And Trefoils!  And Do-si-does!  And…the other kinds that I can’t remember the names of!  And the funny thing was that on my way to the bathroom, I walked past this box (which was open, with the words Girl Scout Cookies printed on the side)(and it was a large box)(as in, very visible) but did not notice it, until I came back.  That’s when I glanced over and saw! In my brain!  Loudly!  "GIRL!!!SCOUT!!!COOKIES!!!" and I said "!!!!GIRL Scout Cookies!  WHOSE ARE THESE!?" While ripping open EVERY box because I had to try one of each and WHAT? I am the boss and had to make sure they were all good!  You know, take one for the team!  Alas, we still do not know where these fabulous treats came from, so we can thank them properly, and whine about being too fat to eat cookies so WHY DID YOU BRING THEM!!!!! (KIDDING.)  We thought we knew, but when I chased down that person to throw crumbs at them and call them evil incarnate for bringing in Girl! Scout! Cookies! that person looked at me oddly as if to say "I have no idea what you are talking about."   So maybe I just ended up putting my foot in my mouth….No.  I think the people I work with are quite used to me stampeding into an office and blurting out nonsensical nonsense, and they always forgive me for whatever it is I have done or said, because in the end, it is funny.  I know this because they always end up laughing when I’m around.  Really!  In fact, they tell me this all the time: "No, no…I am laughing WITH you, I swear!"  so you can see, they obviously love me, and actually can’t wait for another of my dramatic interruptions!

So the Girl! Scout! Cookie! mystery has yet to be solved, but we are working twelve hour shifts starting tomorrow (but only through Friday!) so I will have plenty of time to track down clues.  I will also have plenty of time to…oh.  Work.  That’s right.  I WAS going to say ‘read other blogs’ and ‘post to MY blog’ but I guess I really SHOULDN’T have time for that at work…or at least that’s what I hear.  However!  YOU guys can read other blogs while I am working twelve hour shifts, (but only through Friday!) and to get you started, just pick a couple from the list on the right.  I promise you, you will not be disappointed.  I mean, you MIGHT be disappointed, seeing as it’s not actually ME that you are reading…but I am pretty sure you will get over it (but come back here, after Friday!)

And finally, I’d like to say Happy Birthday to my niece Kami, who will probably never read this site but I know her mom does so she had better tell her Aunt Treena says happy birthday, KATHLEEN.

Auf Wiedersehen!!

Man, I really hate grapes with seeds in them.  Why do they even sell them? In fact, why do they even grow them!  Isn’t there immaculate conception in the fruit world?  Because it’s such a pain in the ass to eat a seedy grape.  I don’t have a choice in the matter, either.  I pretty much am stuck with what the chow hall is serving for fruit, and today it was seedy grapes, red delicious apples, and banana-bread-ripe bananas.  Well, and canned fruit but I’m not a big canned fruit fan.  Also, I didn’t realize the grapes were seedy until just now, when I popped some in my mouth (I like to eat two at a time) and CRUNCH!  Bleh.  That seriously has got to be one of the most disgusting sensations, you know?  Expecting one texture and getting another?  How about eating eggs and finding a shell?  Bleh.  Or, chowing down some fantastic but only if it’s from the Oregon coast specifically Lincoln City clam chowder, and the clam has sand in it?  I personally went through a period in high school where I simply could not put a bite of clam chowder in my mouth, because too many times I had encountered that damn sand.  To this day, I am very wary when eating clam chowder.  A shame, really.

However, there are some things I eat because of their texture.  Like Pringles, for example.  Admit it - Pringles do NOT taste that great!  They are dried potato paste with extra salty powdered fake flavor on them!  But that texture…even when I’m full I will keep eating them, because of that exquisite crunch.  Or the corners of a brownie, even though the texture is not the ONLY reason I eat brownies, it’s hard for me to say no TO the corner of a brownie.  Mmm…brownies…

And also, I had this conversation with my coworkers awhile back, but does anyone else "chew" their ice cream?  And I’m not talking fabulously chunky Coldstone’s cheesecake ice cream with brownies, caramel and walnuts, just ice cream in general.  Because see, I do.  I take a bite, and then I chew it.  Is it necessary?  Well, no, I suppose not…but then, what is going on with you non-chewers?  Are you swallowing your bites of ice cream whole? Do you taste it that way?  How many people actually eat that gross "sugar" cone that ice cream comes in if you are not a pig like me and eat such large quantities it cannot possibly be contained by a mere cone?  Does anyone honestly stop at one serving from a pint of Ben & Jerry’s?  And if you do, are you insane?  Can anyone tell that I am quite possibly swamped with hormones right now? 

Okay, that’s not JUST it.  IF THAT WAS THE CASE, which I didn’t actually confirm so much as imply.  Anyway, I have been thinking a lot about food lately because I am coming home soon, and my husband, bless his perfect heart, knows me so well and keeps asking me not what I want to do while on vacation, but rather where I want to eat.  This presents me with a conundrum.  CHOOSE where I want to eat?  As in, nail down SPECIFICALLY?  Pshh…it would be much easier just to say: "Let me tell you where I DON’T want to eat."  Because you guys: Mexican food.  Red Robin fries.  Ice cream.  Hula’s Mongolian BBQ.  Lamppost pizza.  Thai food.  Outback Steakhouse blue cheese dressing.  Chinese food.  Baja Fresh fish tacos.  No bake cookies. Italian.  John’s kickass salsa.  IN N’ OUT BURGER.  Cheesecake factory…the list goes on.  But you can see why food has been on my mind just lately.  It’s NOT MY FAULT.

Moving on, I really wish I could bring a camera out to my path.  When I was on my Sunday power walk yesterday, I came across the most vividly colored bugs I’ve ever seen.  I might even venture to say they were…sighhh…fine.  They were PRETTY.  I SAW PRETTY BUGS.  I was followed by a dragonfly the color of green grass, and there were tens of butterflies in lemon yellow, purple, blue and the brightest white I’ve ever seen.  I’ve never seen bugs those colors before, and the colors made me happy.  Well, and they also made me think of rainbows, which in turn made me think of Skittles…and NO I did NOT eat the bugs.  Ew.  Lest you think I have gotten soft in my phobias, I also saw a nasty mottled brown GINORMOUS spider.  It had somehow draped it’s web about ten feet off the ground, stretching from a little guard shack to the trees across the path.  I emphasize the somehow, because that path is a good four feet wide, and both the trees and the shack are a foot away on either side.  My theory?  That spider was so damn big that it got a ten foot ladder and worked on it all night long, a little web here, move the ladder…a little more web…you get my drift.  It was BIG, and it was just crouching there in it’s web…it had it’s back turned, you know, like when you are pretending to not notice somebody, and you turn the other way, but are trying to see them out of the corner of your eye?  Yeah.  It wanted me for dinner.  Andd….I can’t even write about spiders without having to stop and shudder a couple of times.  Stupid spiders.

Wow.  I just wrote a whole entry about food and…bugs.  Huh.  So, are you guys as excited as I am for me to move to Germany where I will actually DO things?  You know, so my posts will have a point?  Meeeee too.  (By the way, I hear the food in Germany is excellent!)

Auf Wiedersehen!!

(This was one of my first posts; I wrote it in 2004.  So, it’s not exactly new material but you know what?  I think some things can’t be improved upon, and I know one very special person out there that will probably agree.)

My mom and dad own a candy store. It really is the world’s best candy, and believe me, I’ve eaten a LOT of candy in my life. Of course, owning a candy store means my dad is a real live candyman. When you’re a little girl, that is the coolest thing in the world.

I spent a large portion of my childhood at that candystore. Most of my childhood memories are there. I grew up, not so long ago, no, but in that different time when you could send your six year old daughter two blocks down to the corner store and let her sit there for half a day reading comics, and not worry about her getting stolen. I did that a lot. I knew all the neighboring shop owners… and there were quite a few over the years, in the big building next door that first held a junk/antique shop. I hung with the owners of Catch the Wind long before they were internationally known in the kite world. I’m sure my love of reading was forged in the library next door.

I also spent a lot of time with my parents. Mom was all right to watch, but her job was dipping the chocolates or working the cash register. Either it got boring or I was underfoot… you have no idea how busy a candy store can be in the summer. You can’t entertain your kid when you’re working the counter. So most of the time, I hung out with my dad.

I’d watch him make candy, not really consulting the always open recipe book he had available at all time. Those recipes were ancient, given to him by the previous owner, made his by time. I’d watch other people watch him, the whole kitchen encased with windows so the customers could see the old fashioned way of making candy. When it was caramel day, he’d send me down to the store to get evaporated milk, cans and cans of it. On stick candy and sucker day I’d get my own place, along with everyone else that worked there, rolling it, making suckers, jamming the handles in. I stood on my little can and thought I was so cool, how jealous the tourist kids must be… So many other memories… smelling all the flavoring oils, dad reaching up to the high shelf and getting the one I wanted over and over, so I could smell it just one more time. Driving to Jerry’s Ice Cream store to get the big buckets of ice cream, back when the candy store was also an Ice Cream store. I was about 4, and my dad would have me read the menu for Jerry and his wife, proud that I could. Getting Ooga-Nooga burgers. I could go on forever.

I told my dad once, when I was about 8, I think, that I loved him more than I loved my mom. He just laughed. You won’t always. That’s all he said.

Of course he was right. I grew up, and what teenage girl loves her dad? I certainly didn’t. I couldn’t stand him… anything about him. We fought, I moved out, moved back in, moved out again. Came in the military. Had my own daughters. My relationship with my dad has been, shall we say, turbulent. I don’t know why, except that maybe we are so alike and it’s hard to see that, to admit you’re like your parent.

I always tell everyone I had a weird childhood. I didn’t have friends, I spent a lot of time by myself, I wasn’t a normal little girl. Maybe I didn’t have a childhood like everyone else; my parents owned a business in a tourist town, and because they are who they are, they wanted that business to not just succeed, but to thrive, and they wanted to do it themselves, not let someone else do it for them, even if that did mean they didn’t spend a lot of time at home. But I realize now how lucky I actually was. Because what I did have was a father who always loved me, no matter what. Who taught me to be silly, not serious. Who showed me that the little things are more important than the big things. And who made sure I knew one thing: that no matter what, no MATTER WHAT, he was always proud of me. Always.

I’ve always been proud of you too, Candyman.

I love you dad. Happy Father’s Day.