And That Brings Us to Today

It’s been a hot second since I’ve posted a new little ditty on here. Lets catch you up to speed on where we are at.

My domain expired. I had a friend helping me with the set up of this pointless endeavor and he had a new adorable wee bebe so we both spaced and some other person, for some god unknown reason, snatched it up and posted it for sale for $1500. I tracked down the new owner and contacted them via email explaining what the site previously was and how it came to expire. I heard nothing back from them. I’m not rich so I threw a tantrum and considered all my options for renaming this bitch. When I finally decided on a replacement, I went to buy the new domain but, bitterly I decided to see what the current asking price was for my old site. Miraculously it was back down to $14.99. Blessed be! I’d like to think my email to the owner had something to do with it. Most likely he realized that I wasn’t Neil Offerman (LOVE LOVE LOVE if only I was so lucky to be a fraction of the awesomeness of that genius of a man) promoting his book Paddle Your Own Canoe but, some whack-a-do that likes to overshare about her stupidity and cancer treatments. So I bought it back. Then tried to restore my old posts to find that I couldn’t but, I had some back ups that I was able to copy and paste into new posts (No, the “My First Brazilian Wax” post is still lost; sorry folks). So here we are.

The Sailor returned from Deployment. He was unscathed and sassy as ever. He even made it home for Christmas 2016 by the hair on his chiny chin chin.

I’m officially cancer free. Put that in your pipe and smoke it Satan.

Once I was declared cancer free I searched for a typical 9-5 job again. I was unsuccessful. Thanks Hampton Roads area. So I took a job with Starbucks to at least not have to work strictly evenings as a waitress.bartender. Not so surprisingly, I love the dang job. I goof off all day with people half my age and drink all the lattes I can handle on my breaks. Though, I’m not kidding about kids half my age. Just the other day I found a partner working at my store from another local store was BORN the fucking year I graduated high school. I literally could be his mom. And I died a little inside. I’m the oldest person at my store. I’ve even got 2 years on my boss. They call my grandma. I’m not even mad about it.

My hair is almost chin length. It grew back darker. Like a light brown. Wasn’t a fan. So I dyed it myself and turned it orange. My lovely friend and hair stylist fixed it and dyed it a pretty platinum blonde. I’m harkening my youth. It’s Christan’s color circa 1999. I’m a fan for now.

The Sailor got sent down to Texas for Hurricane Harvey Relief… Then the US Virgin Islands for Hurricane Irma… Then Puerto Rico for Hurricane Maria. He was gone for over 90 days. It was like a mini deployment. He missed our planned vacation (which is why we RARELY plan anything and just decide one day to hit the road and go on an adventure) and the laundry he returned with was some of the funkiest to date. I was not a fan of the entire situation but, I had basic amenities like clean water and power so I kept my bitching to myself and took my time off to drive up to visit family in Ohio for a week. It wasn’t Disney World like we had planned but, hey, whaddaya gon do right?

The Sailor got new orders. Konnichiwa bitches, we’re moving to Japan. June 2018 we’ll be packing the cats up and headed west. Way west. We had hoped to get back to the Pacific Northwest but, fuck it, the Navy overshot by several thousand miles. But, again, whaddaya gonna do, right? I’m looking forward to copious amounts of Sushi and Ramen going in my gob but dreading shipping the cats and driving on the other side of the road.

When The Sailor got his written new orders he was A.) In The Virgin Islands and B.) noticed my name was spelled wrong. I had 60 days to get my oversees pre-screening completed and I was on my own. Let me tell you, YOU NEED ALL 60 DAMN DAYS. I couldn’t get the Navy to fix the misspelling of my name in 60 days as hard as I tried. I finagled getting the screening done anyway. I did find out though that the Sailor had been TRYING to get it fixed since February of 2016 when he first noticed it. 4 months. It took 4 more months of me losing my shit in various Naval Offices and my husband faxing paper work that he had to sign from the ship off the shore of Puerto Rico and finally when he arrived back home and started to follow up at my constant badgering about it. Then they put me on medical hold be cause, cancer. Always fucking cancer. Apparently the Navy gets nervous sending people with the C word (even if previously with the big C) overseas. So they wouldn’t issues updated written orders until I was medically cleared. Which I got after my Oncologist jumped through a couple paperwork hoops for me and I followed up every other week. It was a whole thing that drove me to the brink of insanity. Had my blog been up and working at the time this paragraph would be several posts and the word fuck in all its forms would occur much more liberally.

We took an extra week off before our Ohio Christmas trip to hit up Disney World since we missed out planned fall trip. It was amazing. But crowded. And the lines were epic compared to when we go during off season times. And they don’t do military discounts from Mid-November to like Mid January so it was hella expensive. And I was actually really overwhelmed a lot of the time because of all the people. And when I finally had to pick a souvenir for myself I fucking wigged out and gave up and said, “I don’t need anything!” before storming out of the billionth place we walked through for the millionth time because I had a fucking panic attack in the over crowded, over stocked gift store. I cried. The Sailor took me to a Sunglass Hut that was on the way out and bought me a pair of fancy, polarized, folding Ray Bans before we left Disney Springs. As we walked out, he patted my arm and said, “Now you have your souvenir babe.” The Sailor likes to fix things for me, quietly and without much fanfare. He’s good like that.

Our friends got orders to Italy. I’m super jealous. Don’t get me wrong, Japan is going to be an awesome 3 year adventure but, FUCKING ITALY! Think of the wine and pasta those bitches are going to have at their fingertips.

I found out my cholesterol has doubled in the last year. I’m assuming it’s the spike in whole milk lattes that I’ve started to ingest multiple times a day at my job at the Bucks. I’ve started using Nonfat milk grudgingly. I tried Almond milk but, I just couldn’t. That stuff is gross yo.

The Sailor has developed a serious obsession with watches. Like really fancy expensive fucking watches. Meanwhile I bought a bodycon black mini skirt for $5 at Charlotte Russe for work and wondered if it would be cheaper to buy fabric and make one (it’s not). We can all tell who the truly frugal one is versus Champagne Dreams and Caviar Wishes.

The battery in the Prius finally died. 11 years old,  and it finally gave in. The replacement was like $300. It’s located in the back buried in a corner under the spare tire space. The Sailor got to wear a head lamp and sit in the squished hatchback in our dark parking garage to finagle the old one out and new one in. I just stood there and watched. Occasionally I handed him things so technically, I helped.

Tonight I made Tatertot Casserole for dinner. Because nothing says low cholesterol like ground beef sautéed in cream of celery then baked under a layer of tatertots and melted cheddar. Yolo bitchados.

And that pretty much brings you up to now give or take give or take a few barefoot-cat-puke episodes, a couple mini nervous break downs over minor occurrences and one major melt down when my Student Loans jacked back up to their pre-cancer-reduced monthly payment amounts. Fucking student loans. They ruin everything, am I right?

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