I want my blanket

Being an adult sucks. You know it. I know it. You have to pay bills, accept that student loans aren't "good debt," gain weight, break up with friends who you find out slept with old boyfriends, decide between that sexy new shirt and something practical like - vitamins, stop eating cookie dough, limit your alcohol intake, take cholesterol tests and have your privates picked at by perfect strangers once a year. On your birthday. And that's not even the really shitty stuff.

An upcoming conference where I'll have to face hundreds of beaming college freshman, who I'll probably have to ask for a job in a couple of years, reminded me of how much my life has changed since the last time I remember NOT feeling like a responsible adult. Yes, as a student I was technically an adult, but I didn't feel like it - and I was PARENT!!! We were still in college and our parents were our emergency fund. Now, we have a real one and I'm pretty sure my parents think I'M their emergency fund.

Just three years ago I was preggers with Ash, working part time, in school part time, packing to move across the country to our first jobs in the real world, while Terry was already there studying for the Bar exam.

Now, Ash is going to be three, Gabe's 3rd grade homework is stumping me, the soldier in Terry still overshadows the civilian, and I'm officially one of those people whose obits will one day read, "Monique. Volunteer" because that's all I do anymore. (Not that I'm complaining but I sure could use a paycheck, but then we've already had that discussion.) This was only three years ago people!!!

So as an official adult I'm wondering, now that I know life doesn't make sense and really sucks sometimes but you can decide your life by the attitude you live it by even if you don't always have the energy to assume that face, does it get worse? I mean, I haven't experienced "the worst" but my eyes are opened that I'm not immune to it just because I'm young and fabulous.

Are there more realizations that will still wash over me each decade like waves of nausea? Like, at 30 will I spit on the first 21 year old who says "you're only as old as you feel", and at 40 will I start selling my blood plasma for Botox injections after I'm arrested for caressing an 18-year-old's wrinkle-free skin? (I've already been tempted more than once to stroke a friend's childless, flat abs - and then punch her in the face.) Tell me honestly, are all the horrifying realizations about the suckiness of growing up, over? Or should I just submit to adulthood and buy some mom jeans?

Grey Skies

I just watched the premiere of Grey's Anatomy. Channeling all the emotions of the finale I settled in to get back to that moment. Don't ask me why I wanted to curl up on the floor and cry like a baby again. I guess it was therapeutic at the time since Terry was still in Iraq and my battle buddy was seeing her hubby in Germany. Tonight though, the show was like taking a swig of water, thinking it was soda. Just not what you expected.

"Time, we just need a little more time with the ones we love. "

"Life changes in one second, the blink of an eye. "

"Make a choice "

"The plague"

You see the point right?

It was just not what I needed right now. It's been so up and down around here. Highs like our trip last weekend:

or receiving an honor like the NMFA Family Award and capturing the moment with Asher's finger up his nose:

Lows like Terry breaking down at the mere sight of the Iwo Jima photo or Asher asking every time Terry leaves if he's going to Iraq, if I'm going to Iraq, if Gabe's going to Iraq.

Mostly though the family has been very good. We're like a baby, just on the verge of walking. We take a couple steps, fall, take a couple more and I'm sure before we know it we'll be running together again.

Speaking of running, I ran six miles in 90 minutes and before you break down into complete hysterics, I couldn't even run two miles a couple of months ago and I've gotta finish a 10 miler in at least a 15 minute mile in a few weeks so I'm feeling pretty good.

News flash - I'm watching the new JJ Abrams drama 6 Degrees and one of the characters' husband was killed in Iraq - as a reporter. Weird.

This has nothing to do with anything, but I'm in a stream of consciousness kind of mood. I'm working on the classics I somehow missed in college and high school, just finished Jane Eyre and I'm now reading A Farewell to Arms. I'm going to read another Hemingway soon, but I want a break between them. Any suggestions?

What I've been doing

You, me and PTSD.

Therapy for self.
Therapy for us.
Therapy for him.


I know I'll be ok. But what about him? And all the rest...

We ran away from it all last weekend. Lots of pics from Jamestown, Busch Gardens and Colonial Williamsburg - later...

Sept 11, 2006

Old Glory is retired from the Smithsonian National Museum of American History by the Army Old Guard Aug. 7, 2006. It will never be flown again. On Sept. 12, 2001, a day after the terrorist attacks, this flag was draped over the side of the Pentagon, where it remained for a month before it went to the museum. Photo by J. Leipold.

This is what I wrote last year.

I started to watch the Court TV special about 9/11 and I couldn't get through it. I know if it wasn't for that day my husband wouldn't wake up from yet another nightmare that he'd been shot, captured or killed. Children would be with their fathers. And I think we forget sometimes that children of 9/11 victims have to relive it everyday, see their parent die on TV whenever we see a clip of a plane slamming into a building. What hell.

But it's impossible to think, "what if?"

You know what was the hardest about the documentary? Seeing the clip about all those who jumped from the WTC buildings rather than die a fiery death. What a terrible day that was. And it's like people are already forgetting. Soldiers are being blamed already. At one point in time, the country supported the soldiers in Vietnam you know...

I wonder myself what we can do. I guess we can do our best to never let it happen again, but I fell like there is something more. For now, this is all I can do.

For the civilians murdered.

For our fallen soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines.

For the wounded.

For those who live with war in their minds.

For those who continue to fight.

For equality, justice, compassion.

For the future of freedom.

Never forget.

This and that

First things first - yeah for Rachel whose hubby is home on leave from Iraq!

Gabey went back to school. He's in third grade. I want to cry.

Terry goes back to work on Tues so no more sleeping in for me. I want to cry.

This is Asher's last year at home. Eh. Feel ambivalent about that (see two posts ago).

No luck with the part time job hunt. But I did successfully stalk a recruiter, who, if I didn't freak him out too much, will call me for the next job.

Now for some TV gossip.

I liked Rosie on The View, but it will soon become the Rosie O'Donnell show where they will eat Elisabeth. Of course, they'll still be hungry because the woman is in incredible shape.

I have NOT seen Katie on the nightly news yet, but I did see one of her many critics on MSNBC and I gotta say, LAY OFF!!!! Who cares if she had Botox. I'm more distressed about the fact that SHE and pics of a (very cute) celebrity baby are considered "news"! Murrow boys my ass. ARGGGGGH!

I AM SO sad about the Crocodile Hunter's death. He was one of the few genuine people left on TV.

I'm tagging myself for Nicole's activity.
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your Blog (Please include the book and author) along with these instructions.
5. Don’t you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag five people

His fingers rode my fingers as my hand went over the paper. It was like nothing else in my life up to now. Then he said, "I think that's it. I think you got it," he said.

From the Ninth Edition of Fiction 100, An anthology of short fiction by James Pickering (an old college book. I was one of those nerds who didn't want to sell their books back from their major.) This exerpt is from the short story Cathedral, by Raymond Carver.

I tag everyone.

A few years ago I was playing that game where you flip open the dictionary and put your finger on a random word and see what the definition is (and then consider how much a loser you are for doing so and calling it a "game"). My finger landed on a name. The last name of my husband's ex-girlfriend. An ex-girlfriend who I was good friends with in high school all during her relationship to my husband, but I never met HIM while they dated so when I did meet him I was like, "Ok I'll go on a date with you since I know you're not pyscho." You trackin'?

When I saw this name I had three thoughts:
1) Why is that name in the dictionary? (he invented some typing machine)
2) What does it mean that of all the words in the dictionary I would land on that one?
3) What are the odds?

I was seriously freaked out by it. They dated for a while and it always kind of bugged me that I broke my rule and dated a friend's ex, even though we were all grown up then and it probably didn't matter since I didn't ever know him at the time they were dating. But still, it had to mean something. I still haven't figured it out...

Now, whenever I play this flip and read game, I get a little nervous about what I may see, especially when I play with the Bible when I'm looking for an answer to questions like, "Almighty God, what is your plan for my life?" I mean, wouldn't you be afraid if you flipped open to Genesis 4:14? That would be a lousy flip but you get my point. Is it just dumb luck when these things happen? I don't really believe in coincidences, but I don't think everything happens for a reason either.

Fittingly, last night I watched Just My Luck starring Lindsay Lohan. (I had to go to the video store incognito to rent it but it was worth it. Frothy and fun, but loaded with great discussion starters or, hey! Blog topics! Nice transition huh?) It was basically about this girl who had good luck but lost it to a guy she kissed at a party. I hate it when that happens. She's swapping luck and spit with this guy as the luck trades back and forth and I won't spoil the ending for all you out there holding your breath.

The character was clearly lucky. Winning scratch tickets everytime she tried, hailing a cab, landing that big client, etc. But she doesn't believe she's lucky until she loses it.

[In my best Desperate Housewives narrator voice]Yeees, I believe in luck. I believe in bad luck too. I think sometimes shit just happens. So it's in your best interest to make the best decisions you can about what you have control over since bad luck is also going to hit you here and there.

Last week I had a bit of good luck. Back at the video store I had three selections to scout for; The Sentinel, Take the Lead, and Friends with Money. Of course the other smart housespouses snatched all 437 copies up on Tuesday at 10:05am when they were released and the store opened. I saw an employee organizing about seven videos to return to the shelf and, not caring which of the three I got I just blurted out, "Do you have any 'The Sentinels'?" He looked down, grabbed it and handed it to me. Luck!

At the counter the guy rang up my video and candy and said, "You have a free video, would you like to use it on this one?" "Um, Yeah!" Luck!

And you know what? That little bit of luck totally made my night.

Lazy post of the day

Found this quiz at Soccer Mom (oops, I'm dead).

You Have Your Sarcastic Moments

While you're not sarcastic at all times, you definitely have a cynical edge. In your opinion, not all people are annoying. Some are dead! And although you do have your genuine moments, you can't help getting your zingers in. Some people might be a little hurt by your sarcasm, but it's more likely they think you're hilarious.

How Sarcastic Are You?