Satanic Favors - Day 21 or 30

Okay, I don't believe in Satan.

In case you are wondering, I don't believe in a lot other stuff either.  Still, this guy looks like one I'd avoid in a dark alley.  I might have a conversation with him at Barnes and Noble though.

I admit there were times in my past that there were people I would have enough reason to feel "ill will" about.  That person who made your life miserable.  I might have wished her (or him) a wart on their nose.  Or maybe even worse.  But those days are gone.

I may be so much less passionate now that I really don't have the capacity to "hate".  Neither do I have the capacity for great passion and the energy it takes to wish someone bad luck.  That does not mean that I am a "turn the other cheek" kind of gal.  I am not.

But I don't waste emotion wishing people "bad luck" or harm.  If someone makes my life less enjoyable, I cut them out of it.  I don't "hate" the person.  I simply delete the person.  That may sound cold, and I'm sure it is, but if you can't bring some joy to my party, don't bother to come.

I do dislike people who are not tolerant of others.  I really get bothered when someone tries to tell me that one group is less favored than some other group.  I don't hate those people, but I know they are stupid.

Satan be damned!

Going Solo

I've spent a lot of my life going solo. 

My husband is gone again. for a month this time.

Maybe that's why I may have to place the perfect Craigs List ad.

"Alone again.  Want dinner?  I cook.  Want fun?   I'm witty. 

Husband gone for a month. Religious nuts welcome.  

Me:  Gourmet meal and wine..

You:  Gourmet Weed.

Must love dogs.

Only serious responders please."

Now, tell the truth, does this work?

One Hump or Two?

There are camels. 

And then  there are camels.

Alex rode camels when he was in the Middle East.  

He sent me home two toy camels as gifts.  I called the top camel my "Compton Camel".  He also sent me some gorgeous pure gold jewelry.  That's all they use over there.  

Alex brought me home a black abaya with a veil.  I can slip into harem girl mode really easy.

I liked all my gifts, even my "Compton Camel".

Setting Sail

Alex leaves for a month tomorrow.

He's going to Hawaii.  The last time he was in Hawaii was on a Westpac Cruise.  He was stationed aboard the USS Carl Vinson.  I took him to his ship as he left a number of times.  Westpac is a six month cruise.

It's always hard the night before your partner leaves.  There is a feeling of total desolation for the weeks before the deployment.

I'm pretty self sufficient, but the sadness and worry overtakes me at that point.  The night before Alex leaves, we never really sleep either.  There was too much on our minds.  Six months is a long time to be away from home.

I am not  a woman who worried about what my husband did in Thailand with a prostitute.  I mean,you hope not, but if he went into the Indian Ocean to sit there for 3 months, I was not worried that he would fall in love with a hooker and leave me for her. Nor do I think he worried that I would spend time with a business executive and decide that was my new lover.

Maybe we trusted each other too much, but I doubt it.  My concerns were for his well being.  As a Navy airman, the flight deck is a dangerous place.  I wanted him to get back home in once piece.  Alex worked on F-14 aircraft and there were accidents on every cruise, and frequently sailors were injured or killed.

I hope the most dangerous thing Alex does on this next deployment is to ogle a hula dancer,but I still worry.    We won't get that much sleep tonight.

The Awkwardness of the Common Banana

Poor connection. What can I say?

Hanging out in the Cemetery - Day 16

I have had an affinity for cemeteries for as long as I can remember.

When I was 9 years old, a boy in my class died of leukemia.  His name was Billy Rivers.  Because we were in a Catholic school, we all attended Billy's funeral mass and then followed the hearse to the cemetery.  I remember being terribly sad about the death of the young boy, but oddly comforted at seeing where he would be laid to rest.

Plus, at that point, I was sure that Billy was now with the angels.  He was fine and things were perfect for him.  (Yes, I was a little brainwashed, but I was only 9 for heaven's sake.)

Whenever we travel, I take a trip to the local cemetery.  I find them restful and beautiful places.  There is a hush in the air and a feeling of energy.  All those souls!  (Don't misunderstand.  I'm an atheist and this is strictly a physical impression I get.) I adore the strange cemeteries in New Orleans, and Paris, France and in London.  I also love the cemeteries at the California Missions. 

The photo shows the Chinese Cemetery in Daly City, a suburb of San Francisco.  When I was in high school, a group of us loved going to this cemetery at night.  We would park in the parking area and walk around for hours, sharing swigs of WPLJ (white port and lemon juice, actually lemonade), and try and scare each other by jumping out from behind the larger headstones.

I don't ever remember being actually scared but I do remember a boy statue standing on top of a particularly large headstone and having him come to life and jump at us.  It was one of our friends being a jerk.  The police patrolled the Chinese Cemetery and we would hide from them behind tombstones until they finally gave up and left.

One night, the guy I was dating and I hid together and saw the police car finally pull out of the cemetery.  We laughed and whispered and finally stood up to see where our friends had hidden.  Our friends had not hidden.  Our friends had gotten in the car and left us.

Far from being upset over this, we both decided this would be a fantastic place to make out, just the two of us.  We spent about an hour lying on top of a grave wrapped in each others arms and pressing against each other while we kissed and petted.  It was bliss!

We saw some headlights in the distance and thought it was the police coming back in for another routine patrol, but it was actually our friends.  They had run to the car when they saw the police car and thought we were with them.  Ted and I tried to act traumatized and angry and I buttoned up my sweater and he made sure his zipper was zipped back up.

Our friend thought we had "done it" in a cemetery.  Actually we had not.

But it gave us good street cred  for them to think we had.

I love cemeteries!

First Place - Day 15

In the first place, I never won one of these.

That made me feel kind of like a loser till I remembered I really haven't done much in the way of competing.

I don't do sports.  I don't do beauty pageants, I don't do body building.  I don't sing or dance in competition.

One thing I did was graduate from high school and get a job.  I also moved out on my own at 17.

Today, a lot of people are graduating from college and going back home.  They can't afford to move out, and they can't get a job.  But maybe they won some "First Place" competitions. 

I don't know.