Wednesday, March 28, 2012

The Dress Code

Recently, I blogged about our Four Seasons we have here in Southeastern Virginia. Just before summer, Summer, Right after Summer, and Christmas. Even if you have previously recognized all of our four seasons here, you probably have not realized that there is a dress code for 3 of the 4 seasons. 

The official Southeastern Virginia dress code is very simple, Jeans and Flip Flops. 
Weddings, funerals, retirements, concerts, movies, dinner, dancing, court appearances, they all have the same dress code: Jeans and Flip Flops. 

The crazy thing is that the weather here allows pretty much the same wardrobe all year long, except the infamous Christmas season. 

There will be a few weeks in Just Before Summer where the flip flops are swapped for rain boots, and a few weeks in summer where the jeans are swapped for shorts, but overall, Jeans and Flip Flops are the uniform of choice. 

Keeps you cool in the day, and warm at night. 

So don't forget your official dress code when you are out and about in southeastern Virginia. Jeans and Flip Flops. 

Unless you are going to Walmart, then put on your pajamas. 

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

The Virginia Beach Force Field

Those who are born and raised in Virginia Beach or have lived in Virginia Beach for 10 years or more have an interesting story to tell. 
It is the story of the Force Field at the Virginia Beach City Line. 

Those who live in Virginia Beach believe that there is a Force Field at the Virginia Beach city line. It keeps Virginia Beach residents from leaving the city of Virginia Beach. Virginia Beach residents believe they have no need for any other city, there is no need to travel outside of Virginia Beach. 
They believe that when they get to the city line, they simply are no allowed to leave because Virginia Beach is the greatest city on earth. 

The Force Field is only one way. Chesapeake, Norfolk, Suffolk, and Portsmouth residents are allowed in, at any time. If you are a resident of any other city and you are making plans with someone in Virginia Beach, keep in mind those plans need to be in Virginia Beach because the resident is not allowed out. 

Virginia Beach residents will drive 45 mins to go to a mall that is in Virginia Beach, instead of driving 10 minutes across the line to a mall whose only flaw is that it is in Chesapeake. 
I've never understood it. 

Personally, you couldn't pay me to live in the exclusive city of Virginia Beach and then never leave it. 
The jets is the number one reason. Whenever I am visiting Virginia Beach and the jets interrupt my chain of thought, I immediately think, I am happy I live in Chesapeake. 

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Blogging ....

Bloggers can pretty much link their blog to just about any account they have now. They can link it to Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus, Orkut, etc.
The problem is that when bloggers link their blogs to some other account, the perceived notion is that the blogger is receiving viewer counts or comment counts from the other source, however it is not. 
When I post blogger or tumblr and it shows up on my Facebook, that does not count as a view. When someone reads what I have posted, and then comments via Facebook or Twitter, that does not count as a reader, a comment or a view. 
Blogging is counted by followers, kind of like Facebook is counted by friends, and Twitter is counted by followers. 
So if you are reading someone's blog, and you never follow it, and all of your comments are posted in Twitter or Facebook, you aren't really accomplishing anything. 
Right now, my blog only has 7 followers, although I have 700 page views, I only have 7 accounts that are publicly following my blog. So basically in the eyes of blogger, my blog doesn't exist.  
My point is, if you are reading any blogs, whether they are on blogger, word press, tumblr or something else, make sure that you publicly follow the blog, and make sure any comments you have are posted on the blog for other blog readers. 
My only goal is to get my blog out of the category that blogger has me in: 


Pronunciation is everything

I read an article on one of the news stations the other day, and it made me want to post. 

People who are not natives of South Eastern Virginia, AKA, Hampton Roads, AKA, Tidewater do not understand how to properly pronounce most of the city names around here. 

The biggest example is Norfolk. 
From the way it is spelled you would assume you pronounce it Nor - Folk.
Well no, you don't. 
Only out of towners and vacationers actually pronounce all of the letters and say Nor - Folk. 
After you have been here awhile, you will hear it said enough times, to understand it should be spelled Nor-Fick because that is how everyone says it. 
People who are 3rd and fourth generation Hampton Roads-ian like myself however know that that Nor - Fick is not the correct pronunciation either. 
As my grandaddy would say, it is Nal-Fick.
Yes people, there is an invisible al in the beginning. You will hear some of the older people refer to Nal-Fick and you will wonder what the heck they are talking about. 

Some of you think that on the other side of the water from Norfolk, is a city known as Portsmouth. 

As my grandaddy would say Nal-Fick, my grandma would say Porch-Moth.

Porch-Moth? seriously? YES. Listen to old timers refer to the pro baseball team. They were the Porch-Moth Cubs. No matter that the history books read Portsmouth, old timers all know its Porch-Moth. 

Yet again, I wonder why people get confused. You look on the map for Nal-Fick and Porch-Moth and don't see them!

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Not Helpless

Why is it that during deployment, we handle all the household responsibilities, but when they are home, they assume we are helpless?

During deployments, underways, work ups, or any other time when he won't be home for awhile, I have no problem remembering about trash day. I cheat and have a reminder pop up on my phone to remind me to put the trash out and which night is recycle night. 
Its simple really, I gather up the trash from the bedroom and bathrooms. Then I go into the kitchen and determine what in the fridge needs to get thrown out. I gather up all the bags, take them out to the can, put the can on the curb. Then on Thursdays, I put the can back up beside the house. Simple really.

However, when it is a simple duty day, the world must stop. 

He's home, so he must gather the trash. Even though I have no problem doing it when he is gone, he is home, so the trash becomes his domain. Honestly, it is fine with me because I would rather not have to deal with hauling the trash and the recycles. So trust me, I don't get upset that I can't do it right when he is home. So he gathers the trash and recycles and places them on the curb. 

Now, duty day is trash day. So he has placed his trash perfectly on the curb. Now, I have the very difficult responsibility of rolling the can back to the side of the house when I get home from work. Yet again this is something that I handle when he is gone with no problem. But since he is on duty, he feels the need to remind me. 

Well honey, I think I can remember to roll the trash cans up. First, its Thursday, trash day is always Thursday, so I am already in the routine of putting the cans back on Thursdays. Second, the cans were sitting on the curb when I left the house this morning. So seeing the cans is a reminder that when I get home, I will need to put the cans up. Third, when I get home and go to pull into the driveway, I will see the cans. 

I am fully capable of seeing the cans, knowing that I need to roll them up by the house, and then actually doing it. 

Thanks for the vote of confidence honey that I need to be reminded to take care of the trash. 

Most of our sailors seem to think that we are wonder woman when they are deployed. We handle everything, the bills, the house, the yard, the pets, the cars, everything. 
But somehow they want to take over when they come home. 
Well honey, if you must take over trash duty when you are home to make yourself feel better, I will let you. I'm sure the trash is such a complicated thing, I can't do it right anyways. 

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Having Autoimmune Arthritis is not the same as having Arthritis.

A Medicated Life ....

I wish I could say that my medicated life was full of narcotics and happy pills and that all my medications were wonderful. However, that is not the case. 
Since starting to see my Rheumatologist, he has been on the "wait and see" approach. I guess he wants my blood work to show astronomical levels, or he wants my body to show astronomical damage. Since I am in the beginning, it is not going to be that way. 
So after months of going to the Rheumatologist over and over, and never getting a prescription for anything, he has finally started me on the intro medications for Rheumatoid Arthritis. I'm on Azulfidine. I had never heard of it. But it is not as strong as the others. The medication given for Rheumatoid Arthritis are basically like chemo drugs and they are very very dangerous and come with an enormous amount of side affects. 
I'm probably just as afraid of the side affects as I am the disease. 

Sunday, March 4, 2012

The Pajama Wife

Admit it, We've all seen her. Sometimes we all wish we could be her. The constantly in pajamas wife. Mostly we say she is a military wife, but sometimes she is not. 
She is that lady that takes her kids to the bus stop in pajamas, she shops at the store in pajamas. You aren't sure when she last got dressed, put on makeup, or brushed her hair. She is a lady of non-stop leisure. 

Dealing with 2 chronic pain diseases that will never go away, I often wish I could be her. That wife who has no where to be at any given time. I would love to have that. I would love to not have to worry about being anywhere, getting dressed at any special time, or having any responsibilities. Somehow, they make ends meet off of hubby's paycheck and it all works. Even though she has all of these free hours to get involved with her kids after school activities, or volunteer, she doesn't feel the need to. Her pajamas are way too important. 

I want my pajamas to be important too. 

However, I realize that my pajamas would never replace my current salary, so unless I can figure out a way to do that, I am stuck getting dressed. 

Budget ... People say. Live off a budget. You can live on one salary.
OK, so for me to live the pajama life, here are some of the things I would have to give up. 
Our season passes to Busch Gardens and Sea World. We won't ever be going there with only one Salary. Eating out ever again. We would be on PB&J for the rest of our lives. Movies, concerts, sporting events, conventions, travel, casinos, bowling, shopping, pretty much anything that is not inside the house or free. 
So in order for me to live in pajamas, I would have to give up everything that I do to generate photos to scrapbook. So basically the pajama life would equal no scrapbooking. 
Well that does it. Forget it about me ever being the pajama wife. 
I don't care that I have to get up when I am hurting, I am never ever giving up scrapbooking. 
Its become more of an obsession with me and less of just a hobby.
When I'm not scrapbooking, I want to be taking pictures of something to scrapbook. When I am not working on my book or taking pictures, I want to be planning my next event. 

Maybe I will just start doing all of my scrapbooking and all of my event planning in pajamas and I will feel like more of a lady of leisure. 

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Why are you confused?

Transplants always complain about how difficult it is around here to navigate the roads. Tourists, and military alike get here and can't quite figure out where the heck they are going. Before everyone had a GPS as standard operating equipment in their vehicle, it was common place for the confusion to set in. 

Here is why:

Portsmouth Blvd is in Chesapeake
Chesapeake Blvd is in Norfolk
Virginia Beach Blvd is in Norfolk
Port Norfolk is in Portsmouth
West Norfolk is in Portsmouth
but South Norfolk is in Chesapeake

There is a Martin Luther King Hwy, a Martin Luther King Freeway, a Martin Luther King Bridge, and a Martin Luther King Memorial. 
However, they are not even in the same city, let alone anywhere remotely near each other. 

Great Bridge is a part of Chesapeake, However it is also an actual Bridge. 
Yes, in the Great Bridge part of Chesapeake, we have a bridge named the Great Bridge Bridge. That is the real name, I am not making it up. 
The Great Bridge Bridge.

You can drive 3 miles down the same street and you cross from Portsmouth to Chesapeake to Suffolk on High Street, Western Branch Blvd and Hwy 17. 
However, you are still on the same street and you have not made a single turn.

You can drive 25 miles on Military Hwy. Drive through Suffolk to Chesapeake to Norfolk to Virginia Beach and back into Norfolk, but you have not gone anywhere near a Military Base. 

If you are on Interstate 64 and you are trying to go to the Ocean, you are on 64 West. If you look at your compass boys and girls, you are actually driving South. If you are in Virginia Beach and you get on 64, to go to Hampton, you are going West. Yes, the same West you got on to get to Virginia Beach.

Normally interstates run East to West for Even numbers and North to South for odd numbers. However, head to the Peninsula, and you will get on 664 North. Enjoy it, because you are actually going west. 

I still have no idea why anyone is confused.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Duty Day

Normally, I look forward to Duty Day. 

Yes, I know. I am weird. Most Navy Wives don't look forward to it because it means a night of wrestling the kids into the tub and into the bed all alone. However, since we don't have kids, and my life feels RUSHED all the time, its nice to have a day to relax. 

Normally, when Godfrey is home, he leaves the base around 6pm, and is normally home around 6:30pm. We rush rush rush to have dinner, go out to a movie, go shopping, take the dog for a walk, rush rush rush rush all evening long. This is every evening. 

He is the type that expects dinner on the table when he gets home. So the fact that I work until 6 sometimes, and I am home after him does not matter. I am still supposed to magically get dinner on the table before I get home. 

He doesn't understand that sometimes I would like to just come home, sit down, go through the normal "how was your day conversation" before dinner, then cook together and take our time cleaning up. 

If I have an errand to run on the way home, he gets upset. He wants me to wait until after dinner, then take him with me. I don't really understand why he has to go to the drug store with me to pick up my prescriptions, but ok, if he is that bored, I guess he can tag along. 

Duty Day is a blessing. 

I can work as late as I want. I can take my time getting home. No rushing. I can change into my PJs as soon as I get home from work. I can have a Diet Coke and a granola bar and call it dinner and I am fine. No need to cook for one. I am definitely not one who needs dinner every night. Its nice. But I am just not always hungry. He doesn't understand that. 

I love duty day. I get to watch what I WANT. No watching the food channel or the travel channel. It is Criminal Minds re-runs all night!

I know I am weird. I am supposed to wine and cry and be all sad that he has to spend ONE night out of my face. But seriously, for the women who get upset over duty night, what would you do if he had any other job that involved travel? I mean seriously, unless you work in factory, or have a single office job, occasionally your job is going to require some travel. 
Are you so dependent on him that you can't think for yourself one night of the week?

I guess the women who wine and cry over duty day have never lived all alone. They probably went from the parent's house or college roommate's house to living with hubby and they have no clue how to think for themselves. 
I lived alone for years and let me tell you, that was the most AWESOME thing. I LOVED living alone. 
I set the rules, I set the pace. ME ME ME ME ME

I never had that college roommate scenario. The only person I ever lived with besides my family was my stupid ex husband. What a waste. Maybe living with him is why I loved living alone. 
Combining households was not really on the list of my priorities because I loved living alone. 

I honestly do not understand how someone can be so upset for ONE DAY. I would understand if it was a deployment. But ONE DAY? Really?
I know you love him and he is awesome, and his shit doesn't stink, and he is your soul mate and all that jazz. I got it. 
But seriously, You can't seize the opportunity to hog the bed ONE night?

Just because I ENJOY having one night of the week where I have no set pace and I can do exactly what I want and I dont have to eat dinner, DOES NOT mean I don't love him. I do. I think I probably love him more than whiney soul mate has a concept of because I know what its like to be married, be divorced and then find your love. 

Before you can love another person, you have to truly love yourself. 
If you can't think by yourself for 24 hours because your prince charming is working, you need to grow up before you get married to your soul mate. 

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Mutual Respect

Why is it so difficult for adults to understand the concept of mutual respect?
It is simple really, I don't let my dog poop in your yard, so don't let your dog poop in mine. 
But for some reason this concept of mutual respect is completely lost on adults. 
Children understand that if you want to play with another child's toys you must let that other child play with yours. The road runs two ways. 

Since I have been diagnosed with RA and Lupus, I have found that suddenly, everyone is a fucking doctor. Everyone knows best. Everyone knows everything. 

People simply do not realize how annoying this is. I am the one suffering, and yet, I have to suffer more, by listening to a bunch of non-medical people flap their traps about this and that and other things. 

The most annoying part is that almost everyone who offers this unsolicited medical advice, I would love to give them some advice on their life. Stop being a bitch, learn to not be so trusting, grow the fuck up. 

However, I keep my mouth shut and just nod and say ok. I pretend that I care about what they are saying and it will be right next on my list of everything else everyone else has told me to try. 

I don't bother other people. I don't comment like crazy on people's facebook, I don't tag people in posts, I don't do anything to other people that I consider to be annoying in the facebook world. However, people still feel the need to comment on my stuff in a mean way, tag me in posts that will constantly be commented on, so my phone continually notifies me. 

I guess it is all my fault because I tend to expect people to treat me the way that I treat them. I don't want you all in my business, so don't get all in my business. I don't run around telling you how to change your life, so don't run around telling me how to change mine. I don't try to convince everyone they need to scrapbook or watch Criminal Minds, so don't try to convince me to do whatever it is that you do for your lifestyle and for fun. 

So in summary, unless I ask you what you think I should do about my Lupus or RA, Don't fucking tell me what to do!