Resistance is Futile!

Today's title is a quote from a Star Trek movie where an alien race of Borgs are taking over the universe.

Much like the way Hubs is right now. It is with affection that I describe his usual post-deployment behavior. After all this time I know what to expect and it makes me chuckle. He feels the need to rearrange/organize everything in his path.

Those of you who know me know I can use all the help I can get in this department. I am not exactly a paragon of organization. Still it is worth noting that for six months we did just fine (mostly) on our own.

I wondered if this time would be the same. After all I sold the house. I wondered if the total absence of all our stuff would slow this behavior down. Like a scientist setting up particularly unusual conditions for his lab animals I observed him out of his natural habitat. What would happen?

Well first he re-arranged the condo and then he started on the school books. D1 has already had a meltdown this morning because her books are messed up and the pencil sharpener was moved. That one does not handle change well.

Since we only have a week or two left here I find it doesn't bother me much. After all left side of the room vs right side, does it matter? Not to me!

To be fair, if he didn't keep us organized and on track we would be in a state of perpetual mess. I definitely needed somebody like him to get my stuff together. I do like having long range plans. If you don't have some type of plan you will get carried along by somebody else's plan. Not that we stick to things all the time. When he was showing me a spreadsheet of all his leave time for the remainder of his AF career I had to giggle. We don't even know where we are spending Thanksgiving yet!

I guess we balance, him and I. I mess things up and he straightens them back. I saw him start to twitch a bit when I showed him the binder of all the paperwork from the move. It was giving him chest pain to see the mess of stuff sitting there taunting him from the counter.

As he dove in to set the mess to right I had to hide a small grin. Wait until we get to OH and he has to sort out Quicken.

6 months of financial stuff done by me and a new version to boot! I just hope his heart can take the strain.

Stolen Honor

Our courts have ruled that people have a right to lie as long as nobody gets hurt. This article blew my mind.

It is so wrong I had to be serious for today. Forgive my ranting from atop Mt. Soapbox but this has to stop.

Maybe I am overly sensitive. I actually volunteered to serve in our Military and I am a spouse to a career officer so perhaps I am out of touch with "modern America."

Dear God, I pray not. Please tell me people recognize what an atrocity this is. Our Courts have actually ruled that lying is OK as long as nobody gets hurt. SAY WHAT? Do they truly mean this? How can they not see the absurdity of this? Surely they don't think the First Amendment applies to lies?

Or is this a symptom of a more subtle disease? Is it actually a reflection on how our courts view military service? I suspect, I actually hope this is the truth. Better to have courts that don't value military service than ones that don't value truth.

Perhaps they don't realize the gravity of what they have allowed because they don't understand what the Medal of Honor represents.

"conspicuously by gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his or her life above and beyond the call of duty while engaged in an action against an enemy of the United States. Due to the nature of its criteria, it is often awarded posthumously." These simple words from Wikepedia tell a lot. But they don't tell it all.

Most recent recipients' next of kin have gotten the Medal because their loved ones literally threw themselves on a grenade to save their fellow soldiers. They lead charges against higher numbers to rescue fellow soldiers. They perform with courage most of us can't even imagine.

For this they receive the thanks of their country. They are entitled to wear the Medal. They are entitled to the few small perks that go along with it. How dare someone claim to belong to that group who doesn't belong? Perhaps true justice would be that anybody falsely claiming to be a recipient should immediately be uniformed and shipped to the current battlefield and given the grenade upon which to throw themselves.

To claim this country's highest military honor without having been awarded it, steals from us all. Anybody who can't see that doesn't deserve to live here let alone serve on our courts. If you don't understand what I'm talking about look up the past recipients and read their stories. I dare you to attempt it without crying.

Listen to the real heroes and then see if you understand the outrage. Maybe I'm over-reacting.

Maybe a whole lot of people are under-reacting.

Yikes!

Since the move I have taken a break from coupons and budget shopping and I have to say...wow! That stuff is expensive!

A small box of cereal for over $4? Are they joking???

I suspect that couponing is much like home schooling. If you want to try it, fine. But you should NEVER get really into it unless you mean to stick to it, because it really gets under your skin and IT WILL DRIVE YOU BATTY!

Not in a pleasantly confused, but still smilin' way either. What I mean is that if you do the research and get into homeschooling and spend the time picking books and designing a curriculum and finding a group, you could only go back to public school in dire circumstances. You know too much. Once you look at the man behind the curtain you're just never gonna see the Wizard of Oz again.

Same thing with stretching a buck. Once you get used to bargain prices, it is mega-painful to pay retail. I have learned that there are reasonable prices to expect with sales and coupons. For example, I never pay more than $1 per box of cereal. A 12pk of soda is not worth more than $2.50. Shampoo, razors, toothpaste, and almost all toiletries should be free at worst and usually should make money. So walking into a store and just plunking stuff into the cart and watching the dollars evaporate is nothing short of panic inducing.

I can't wait to get settled at the other end of this journey north and get back into the usual routines. I don't think the budget can take this much longer. Well, not if he wants to surprise me with 1 1/2 carat three prong platinum set Hearts on Fire solitaire earrings that is.

What? Surprises are always best when you are surprised with the right thing, no? He's only a man...gotta be specific.

Oh yeah, just what we were missing!

With the drama of the sale of MoneyPitt1 fading slowing from my dreams at night I was starting to relax. The calming force of the aqua waters and sun seemed able to pull me into vacation land where all is sunny and happy.

That lasted a good five minutes until life struck again.

This week D1 started complaining about an upset stomach and how much she missed her Daddy. Since she gets an upset stomach whenever she is upset I chalked this up to Daddy Blues and offered sympathy and extra hugs...the standard mom cure.

Not quite the right diagnosis it seems. We went to Pensacola to check out the museums before we have to leave FL. No time like leaving to cram in all the things you didn't manage to do in five years. We learned a lot about Chinese folklore and a bit about the history of the FL panhandle. Seems that Spanish Conquistadors were some of the first European people to settle this area.

Which makes it truly humorous that Montezuma's Revenge would strike D1 on our museum tour. Gotta love the irony, right?

So for the last two days we have been stuck inside the condo trying to...well let's just all hope she gets better soon. I'll spare you tales from the Crypt.

De Nada.

I just hope we all get through this -er- crud before it is time to trek across country. If I have to drive across the United States battling my bowels, well, you might as well check me into the Funny Farm now. Preferably one with rooms that can be hosed down.

The Most Crazy, Backwards, Mixed-Up Closing Ever

When I went to sign the paperwork finally ridding us of the Grey Fox Money Pit I had to find just the perfect outfit to wear. This was a puzzling etiquette issue. What would Ms. Manners say is the proper outfit for an auto de fe?



I wanted to wear all black including a nice 50's black pillbox hat and veil just to set the right mood..but the only hat I could find at the thrift store was bright lime green. Not exactly the look I was trying for. Another great idea smashed too soon.



I finally decided on just plain jeans. I might as well be comfortable when losing a large sum of money.



I was ushered back into the inner sanctum of the title agent and there I met the Army Corp of Engineers rep. She introduced herself by saying



"Hi I'm Jodi. I can't wait for guys to explain this to me because I'm brand new. Today is my first day!"



We all had a hearty laugh. Until we realized that she was absolutely serious. Our "expert" was more clueless than we were. Oh good. Well at least this fiasco was consistent from start to finish.



I signed all the paperwork in the way they wanted me to. Hubs name, then my name then the POA thing. Then my name again. I signed a statement that the POA was valid. This gave me a small giggle. Talk about a Liar's paradox. I had to sign that I wasn't cheating, that the POA was valid. But if I was the type of person to fake a POA would lying about it suddenly make me fall to my knees and confess?



I noticed that the buyer had already signed all the paperwork. How does that work? How can he "buy" something I haven't officially sold? Talk about a chicken and egg thing. Anyway I then endorsed a large check and promised not to fly to Tahiti thus leaving my kids abandoned and motherless. Not that they would miss me much. There is plenty of food in the condo and with the pool and cable they are set. The check wasn't large enough to actually be tempting. I figure I'd only have a good week before I got booted from the resort.



Anyway.



When it was all said and done I signed over the house and left with...zippo. Nothing but a promise that my part of the check would be wired the next day. Ironic. The buyer was already in the house, the bank got their payoff but I left empty handed. Talk about requiring trust. Suuuuuure the money will be there in the morning.



On my way out I left singing my "auto-de-fe" song under my breath and the realtor asked what I was saying. I just smiled and told her it was a great day for an auto de fe and she looked blankly back.



Sorry Voltaire. I guess some people down here missed Candide.

The Lights are on But Nobody Should be Home

I drove by the house yesterday to check if I had any mail in the box that hadn't been forwarded. The lights were on and a truck was in the driveway.

Curious.

We haven't closed yet and the buyer tried to throw a curve ball with last minute renegotiation.

Oh, did I have to calm myself for a minute. Clearly this bugger has no idea who he is dealing with. Sure I have been accommodating and more than helpful. We left the house in pristine condition and I have met every stupid request of the buyer. We sold it for 1/3 of what we paid. We are very motivated.

But. We aren't stupid, all appearances to the contrary. Nothing makes me see red like somebody attempting to take advantage of my misfortune. The guy is getting the deal of a lifetime and the SOB thinks I should sweeten the pot even more.

Sort of reminds me of a story I used to read to my kids... "If you give a mouse a cookie..."

If I had written that story it would have had a different ending.

I mean enough already. At some point you call an exterminator and squash that sucker like the vermin he his.

Hard to imagine I haven't gotten the Caldecott Medal for children's lit isn't it?

This guy has rocks in his head. He's gonna tick off the seller at the last minute? Pride goeth before the fall. And revenge is a dish best served with a side of frozen shrimp hidden in an air vent.

I jest. I'd never do such a thing. Probably. But when I saw that sucker's truck sitting in the driveway of a house he doesn't yet own I would certainly call the police and report suspicious activity. That's what neighborhood watch is all about.

If I just happen to know a policeman because our kids are in cheer leading together and he promised to make the response as scary as possible...well serves the sucker right.

Good times.

The Evils of Diet Coke

First let me say I am a huge fan of Diet Coke. It is my "pick-me-up" of choice. Sure I have read all the stuff proclaiming that artificial sweeteners are causing everything bad in my life from high taxes to the annoying boil on my butt.

But the FDA says the stuff is safe.

No government agency would ever make a mistake right?

OK, that may have been just a tad more bitter sounding than I was aiming for.

Diet Coke. That's today's topic. While Hubs is gone I have been super careful to limit myself to no more than 1/2 a can no later than noon. I never sleep very well when he's gone (I must be a masochist because I SHOULD sleep better with all the room, covers, and no midnight sneak attacks where I am the poor helpless victim he wrestles while dreaming about being a superhero. BTW that wasn't a reference to some rated R thing. He is just a restless sleeper.)

But as most military spouses will tell you, you just don't sleep that well during a deployment. So I have skipped my soda (UGH! We drink POP where I come from! How did the Florida soda thing sneak in?) while he is away hoping to sleep a bit better.

Sometimes it even works.

Last night after hearing that our closing is delayed, and might be for some time, I was so bummed I had a Diet Coke by the pool. I should have laced it with a splash of something medicinal but the only stuff I have here at the condo is an unopened bottle of Champagne and my dad's Christmas scotch. The scotch is my contemporary. It was a tad pricey which is sick and wrong since it tastes like, well pretty close to rubbing alcohol. Dad, being a connoisseur, disagrees with that assessment but as I prefer my alcohol flavorless or preferably completely obscured by frozen fruity goodness, I didn't put any in my coke. (Alcohol that tastes like tropical fruit doesn't count, right? Not when it comes completes with a full serving of fruits! Are there still antioxidants in Pina Colada mix? Of course there are, right?)

So I had one can. Big deal. I still went to sleep on time so take that!

Until I woke up at midnight. But it was a really refreshing one hour nap. So refreshing in fact that I couldn't go back to sleep. Ever.

I checked my emails.

I did a load of dishes.

I checked the kids' math assignments.

I got a great work-out in. I call it the amazing contortionist flop like a fish dying on shore T-91 plan. Watch for it on infomercials! It involves rearranging pillows in time to music while maintaining a steady left-right-middle rotation. Every few seconds you strain around and check the alarm clock to verify that you are still awake. Feel the burn!

Finally I got up at 5:30 and did the cat's shot.

You can see it coming right?

Afterwards I was so tired I immediately went back to sleep where I had insanely vivid dreams involving meat packing plants gone horrible wrong and being chased by masked bandits through the old west. The second time I sat straight up, breathing heavy, gasping for breath, and praying it was only a dream I decided to skip any more rest, thank you very much.

I'm pretty sure the intense burning pain setting my chest ablaze and radiating through my arm was heartburn as a second gift from the Coke. If it was actually a heart attack I want to go on record as being staunchly a DNR. If I drop dead soon and somebody brings me back, especially before the house closes, well let's just say the curse of Seamus O'Higgins and his giant pox will be upon you.

Bottom line? No more Diet Coke until Hubs gets home. Strictly diet chocolate for my future mood modification needs. If only diet Valium was available without a prescription...

Moving-Military Style

Talk about a whirlwind. Moving with the military is something you have to experience to believe.

The first step is for the packers to show up. This time based on the weight of our junk they sent 4 people. They come into a room and literally wrap everything in paper and then put it in a box. When I say EVERYTHING, that's just what I mean. If your kid snuck a candy bar at some point and stuffed the wrapper into a nook, then that wrapper will be wrapped in packing paper and put in the box. I jest not. I'm pretty sure my bucket of recycle bottles got packed. I tried to circulate around intercepting the stranger items and tossing them as needed but there was only one of me and four of them. Oh well, we'll sort it out at the other end I suppose. I have to just pray that nobody sees us unpack or we will get the strangest reputation in the neighborhood.

Did you see the new people who moved in? They saved old candy wrappers and empty plastic bottles! They must have some strange hoarding disease!

Then after a few days of packing comes the inventory stage. Every box gets a sticker with a number and every number goes on the master list. At the other end you then check off number by number.

So, for example, we have box 0215: empty CD cases. Yep. We really do.

We had 6 legal size pages of boxes.

Next come the loaders. We had a crew of 5. One guy did the dissemble and paperwork and four poor schmucks loaded the semi. Did I mention it was 110 with 100% humidity? Good times. As they load the boss makes notes on the inventory like "dining table:scratches on surface." This is so that you can't claim pre-existing damage at the other end. In our case, this is the 6th military move. It took more space for recording the damage than it did to record the stuff. Whatever. Of course stuff isn't just loaded. Oh no. First it gets wrapped in plastic, blankets, or both. After carefully wrapping every article great care is then taken as it is shoved, crammed, smashed, and generally squeezed into tight spaces. The "care" is more to insure that the entire truck gets filled, not so much that everything comes out whole on the other end.

We filled a semi.

Including the space underneath where the spare tire goes.

Then another few hours are spent filling out several forms in 6 copies. You then sign that you have personally watched and agree with all notations, inventories, and numbers. Right. As if you could be in 6 places at once and personally count everything. Not that losing some of the junk would be bad. For instance if they managed to drop the TV we got in college, well it had a long and happy life. But they won't. Oh no. It's NEVER the stuff you don't care about that gets lost/damaged/stolen by aliens. Oh no. It will be the one item you actually care about.

Curses to you Murphy and your stinkin' laws.

It is always best to watch them load the truck and then beat them to the other destination. Then they load the stuff off and usually you get most of your stuff in the same condition.

Unlike us, who are getting there a month later. Thus our stuff will be unloaded at some storage facility and then delivered when we cal for it. This means several different people will touch it several times. Each step astronomically increases the risk that stuff will be broken/stolen/lost/eaten by dinosaurs.

But again, it won't be the stuff you want lost. Never that stuff. Every old candy wrapper and empty plastic bottle will make the journey just fine.