Friday, November 4, 2011

Random Tidbits

I started this post in my head to talk about the stab-myself-in-the-eye-with-a-pencil afternoon I had yesterday, but it seems to have carried on into today, so let's start with this morning, shall we?

-I had to go to the bank because I'm the new treasurer for our wives group and I had to deposit some money.  Now, bear in mind that I graduated high school in 2000.  I did have a checking account for about six months when I first got to college, but even then, I barely ever used it.  We were at the dawn of this new internet age, and since I was young and smart (back then, I really was smart, I swear it) I jumped on the band wagon, got my debit card and online access, and shoved my checkbook in a drawer somewhere.  I don't carry cash EVER, unless I need a sitter, then I get some on the way home.  Cash is stupid, it's 2011 and I can't believe they haven't done away with it yet.  All this to say, I haven't set foot in a bank in YEARS.  I'm pretty sure we even bought our house online.  I bank with USAA, who really knows their stuff- they don't even HAVE any brick and mortar banks.  Because brick and mortar banks are STUPID.

Anyway, the bank.  Here on Guam, our wives club uses Navy Fed.  NAVY Fed, did you catch that? As in, they should have some inkling of military life, perhaps? Well, don't be fooled.  The bank doesn't open until nine.  Nine am.  A military bank, for military men (and women) who have to be at duty section turnover by like six thirty, most of them even earlier.  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?! Nine o'clock.  I'm NOT kidding.

-So I left the bank (it was eight, which I thought was reasonable.  I assumed the bank opened at seven, actually) to go to the Fleet and Family center.  For you non Navy readers, that's the fantastic organization that, among many other things, will loan you pots and pans and plates and a toaster and a high chair when you have to pack out all your worldly possessions and live on a deserted island for two months without your shit.

Now, there's another organization called the Navy Marine Corps Relief Society, who also do tons of great stuff.  I happen to go there a lot because they have a Goodwill box for outgrown toys and clothes, so I know exactly where it is.  And even though I guess in my head I must have understood that the Relief Society and the Fleet and Family center were two DIFFERENT things, I didn't really get it.  I had NO IDEA where the Fleet and Family center was.  I drove the the Relief Society and just sort of sat in my car staring at the sign, waiting for it to change into Fleet and Family.

It never did.

I couldn't even call Laura (my go-to for all the help I ever need in Guam, thanks Laura!!!) because my phone is busted, but more on that later.  I just sort of drove around for twenty minutes until I found a sign, and then I went and took care of my bidnaz, then went to the bank for an hour to deposit that cash (CASH people?!?! Seriously?)

-So now let's get back to yesterday.  I don't know how many of you have ever moved with professional movers, but, as fantastic as it is, it's not all roses.  Yes, they do EVERYTHING for you, and yes, in the military, it's totally free.  BUT you have to sit there while they do it.  You can't lift a finger to help, but you HAVE to be there.  You can't leave.  You just have to sit on the couch reading Game of Thrones while these poor boys work their asses off around you, wrapping up all your picture frames and dumping your ratty-ass undies in a box.

And if you have too many kids so you're poor and can't afford a hotel, you have to LIVE in your house for the three days they take to pack you out.  You have to put all the crap that you've set aside (towels, clothes, toys, your vitamix, and so on) in one central location, make a DO NOT PACK sign, then live in that one tiny location for three days straight.  It's not as easy as it sounds, trust me.  You have to keep your nasty boys from climbing all over the boxes, from tearing the brown paper off the furniture that they've wrapped, and from sticking the screwdrivers that they leave laying around into a light socket.

I'm grateful that the Navy pays movers, and I'm even more grateful that my movers were (and always have been, all four times so far) AH-MAY-ZING.  But it fried my nerves.  It did, and I think that if anyone tells you that it's easy breezy beautiful to hang around during a pack out, you should slap her in the face and call that bitch a LIAR.  Because she's LYING to you!!

-So my nerves are fried, and Daisy is screaming her head off.  Daisy June NEVER cries, so when she does, it is REALLY hard for me to handle.  Actually, it's starting to seem like just about ANYTHING is hard for me to handle, right?!? Anyway, she was screaming and wiggling around, and she got her hands on my phone.  My blackberry.  My cracked, tattered, face-broken-off blackberry.  The blackberry that Scott steals to take pictures with, that's been left out in the rain, that's been dropped literally fourteen thousand times.  She grabbed it, and in slow-mo, raised it to her mouth.  One little string of drool leaked down into the insides (since there's not a faceplate type cover anymore) and that was all she wrote.  I got the white screen of death and haven't been able to use it ever since.

I keep hearing it ping, telling me that I've got an email or a text.  And I can't get to them! I feel like they're my little babies, calling to me from beyond the grave.

I am a blackberry ADDICT.  I text my bestie Angela back in the states ALL. DAY. LONG.  Literally, all day, every day, we carry on running conversations whenever either one of us has time to sit down for a sec and shoot a text off.

I talk to my hot-babe-online bestie Holly thru Facebook multiple times a day too, then Facebook shoots me an email to tell me she wrote back, then my blackberry dings to tell me I got an email.

Not anymore.

I feel like I'm living in the stone ages.  In addition to not knowing how to fill in a deposit slip, I also barely remember how to use the computer internet to check my email.  And since we're leaving in fifty seven days, thirteen hours, and thirty eight minutes, I can't exactly justify spending money on a new phone that I won't be able to use in Hawaii.

Also? I cracked the face of my watch a few weeks ago and it's dead.  So, along with walking around out of touch with cyber-reality, I'm also walking around with no idea what time it is.  If you thought I was late before, just wait.

-I have ONE pair of pants that fit AND are not yoga pants.  ONE!!! It's been resolved, but when I started this post in my head, I was under the impression that I'd forgotten to set them aside and the movers packed them up and drove away with them yesterday.  I cried.  LITERALLY, I cried for these stupid pants.  Because it's not like I can go buy a new pair.  See, even though we live in Guam, where the high is 88 and the low is 78 YEAR ROUND, never a change EVER, our NEX changes clothes with the seasons just like everywhere else.  So right now, if you go to the NEX for some clothes, you'll find coats, snow pants, long sleeve flannel shirts, and absolutely NO weather appropriate clothing.  Not a stitch.  I understand that the store can only stock what the manufacturer puts out (you can't even get summer clothes online FROM the manufacture <carter's, for an example> during the 'winter'.  It's VERY weird.) it still really pisses me off.

What else do I want to bitch about this morning? Hmmm....

Oh! Got one!

-Do y'all watch Glee? I do, but since I only really watch for the music and I think the show itself is stupid, I just wait until the last season is on DVD and I watch them all at once.  So I'm halfway thru season two right now.  ANYWAY, I only download the songs I like, and I downloaded Don't Cry for me Argentina because it was pretty good.  Only problem is, even though they sort of sing it together in the show, you can only buy either Rachel singing it alone, or Kurt singing it alone.  I opted for Kurt.  BIG MISTAKE.  He has a beautiful voice, don't get me wrong, but it's very soft, and VERY high pitched, so I can't crank it up and shout along with him while I'm driving around.  And I refuse to pay the dollar twenty nine to buy Rachel singing it, because the producers should have put them BOTH singing it together online.  Greedy ass bitches, I'll be keeping my dollar twenty nine thank you very much.

My favorite Glee song is still Alone by Kristin Chenowith.  Did you see that one? FAN FRICKING TASTIC.  I heart her.  I also really like the Dreamed a Dream song with Rachel and Elfaba, and of COURSE I love Teenage Dream with Blaine.  Does anyone know if the Warblers are ACTUALLY singing a cappella? Because that would make me love it even more.  In fact, it might bump Alone out of top place.

Oh wait, I forgot about Kurt singing I Wanna Hold Your Hand.  Shit.  If Alone is going to be number one, Hold Your Hand is two.  That means Teenage Dream is in THIRD?!?! That sucks.  I hate having to rank things in my head.  It's so hard!! Like picking your favorite kid (Warren).

Which gives me another rabbit to chase.  I hate the Beatles, which I'm sure is no surprise to any of you.  I don't know a lot of the history, but to me, they just seem like such a bunch of peppy happy phonies.  Like, the original Backstreet Boys.  The pre-Justin Beiber.  I'm a Stones fan, and I get so sick of hearing people say that the Beatles are responsible for every good thing ever to happen in music in the history of the world.  I think that's a little dramatic.  Surely, if they hadn't done it (whatever "it" is) someone else would have.  Probably U2.

Anyway, point being, I hate the Beatles, and I don't like many of their own songs, but it seems like every SINGLE time someone remakes one of their songs, I LOVE it.  So maybe they really were fantastic music and song writers? And I just hate their voices and the things they stand for? Who knows.  When Kurt sang I Wanna Hold Your Hand, I cried.  Granted, it was a pretty gut wrenching episode, but that song, done by him, with the percussion (you KNOW how I feel about some percussion!) is just phenomenal.  There was also this weird movie called Across the Universe and they redid a ton of Beatles songs, and I love almost all of them.  Especially Across the Universe.  If that's what it's called.  It's the one that goes "Nothing's gonna change my world..." It's good.  Jim Sturges, he's gonna be big, you heard it here first.

-I think that's about it for now.  I have to go get all of our stuff out of the playroom and try to turn this hollow shell back into a home.  And I have to get ready for Ava's birthday party tomorrow.  One more thing- I keep trying to invite non-boat people to our little parties, and none of them ever come.  If you are a non-boat person that I invited to my party and you said no, you suck.  And you're stupid, because our parties are a TON of fun!!! So there.

-If you chose to leave a comment...I'll never know, because I'm sitting over here with my chisel and stone and can't check my email.  And I won't know what time it is once I close my laptop.  Ugh.


  1. Random reply that you won't see....
    You crack me up,
    and I did reply,
    as a non-boat person
    that we are a big, fat maybe....
    (I know, that's sucktacular -but it's all I got,
    cause I fly by the seat of my pants)

    Other random-ness:
    How did you get to be the treasurer of something when you are leaving in 30 days or whatever the countdown is?

    I am also treasurer of the wives (er, spouses that no men join - club) and I also want to poke myself in the eye with my keys when I go to Navy Federal. Their online system is also about 20 years behind.... so don't think creating an online account (which takes them 6 weeks to get you the access number too) will help. They are also sucktacular.

    uh....anything else I got?
    No - not at the moment.

    I lied - one more thing.
    Next Wednesday at Cup and Saucer at 830am for breakfast. Does that work for you?
    I'm buying! :)

  2. I'm sorry! I promise I want to come. I really do. Saying any more than that would be rude concerning our prior commitment, but just trust me on this one.