Things I don't like. Tuesday edition.

Today is Tuesday, right?

So I'm tired of bitching about our kitchen. If you're facebook friends with me, you know I've been blowing it up with my frustrations. And since I'm tired of my kitchen, I thought I'd bitch about the other things I'm tired of (in no particular order):

1. The Olympics. Or more specifically, the networks bringing them to us. Holy balls. Pick a damn sport and show it until at least that set/match/game is over. I was watching some channel this morning and they switched sports so many times, it made me assume the producer was bipolar. I typically enjoy watching several different sports, but shit. I can't do it this year. The programming is too psychotic.

2. The Chick-fil-A debate. I'm not going to state my personal opinion about it here or anywhere. But holy shit. Don't take to facebook, blasting one side or the other, assuming your friends will magically say, "You know what? After reading this post, I realize he/she is so right. I'm going to change my opinion." And then get all pissy about it when you don't have 100% agreement. On facebook. Seriously?

3. The presidential race. To me, politics and religion are personal. Through my very republican husband, my mostly democratic voting history has been revealed to numerous people. I do not talk about it myself, not because I'm ashamed of it, but because I don't feel there's a need. Bob, along with these numerous people, like to pick on me for the choices I've made. Some of those people (not Bob... he knows better), have tried to get me riled up about this year's race. They try to start a debate and make me get all political. But when I don't participate, they interpret my silence as ignorance or assume I've converted to their way of thinking. I have my thoughts and reasons for those thoughts. Just like the chick-fil-a debate, me speaking my mind isn't going to change yours. Or vice-versa. And I don't typically enter an argument that I'm not guaranteed to win. I'm smrt like that.

4. The Harris Teeter in my neighborhood. Charlotte is overrun with Harris Teeter grocery stores. And when I say overrun, I mean there are 6 in our 10 square mile radius. "Mine" sucks compared to other ones in general vicinity. Although mine is under construction, I don't think we'll ever get all the cool stuff the other ones have. I don't like this.

5. My kitchen. I know, I know. I said I was done. But surprise. I'm not. Robert, my oh so fabulous mold guy, is coming back today. To cut out a portion of the cabinets to a) see how horrific the mold is and b) try to find the mysterious leak.

I may be done bitching now. But I may not. We'll see. Once Robert leaves, I'll probably be all fired up again. Aren't you looking forward to that?

"Rain" my ass.

You know that old saying, when it rains, it pours? When it's an effing monsoon at our house. I preface this rant by saying I may have the cleanest kitchen this side of the Mississippi. Or at least I thought I did.

I got back home today. I've been in Hometown all week "relaxing." And thank gawd I did. I came home to: no husband (he's working until next WEDNESDAY), ants AND mold covering 50% of my kitchen, Jack, the kitty, licking BC powder out of a packet on the floor (which he conveniently knocked off the ant covered counter), and a car that won't start.

Now I'm no expert in mold remediation, but oh how I wish I was. Bob, who right this minute is sitting beside a hotel pool in Virginia (on a layover for work), is coordinating this mass effort to reclaim our house from bugs and germs (which may include Jack, who apparently loves the taste of ground up aspirin). 

So. I sincerely hope your Saturday is going better than mine. This blows.

Losses.

Today should be the day I do a weekend recap. But writing a fun sarcastic post about our family reunion just isn't in me today.

Last Thursday, an old friend of mine was killed. He's not someone I've stayed in close contact with, yet my heart still breaks for his family. And for his new wife he just married this spring. Although I've tried not to, I keep thinking too much and putting myself in her shoes. A new wife. Losing her husband. It makes me cry just to even thing about.

Yesterday we found out our friends lost their baby. A week shy of his due date and seemingly perfectly healthy, Colin came and left this world all in one day. Again, I can't help putting myself in Colin's moms place and it just takes my breath away.

We have been surrounded by so much death recently. We have been constantly reminded that nothing is guaranteed. Everything is sacred. That every moment counts.

SJ Thursday.

Guess what I get to do this weekend? Spend two whole days with this sweet little thing!

Mind. Blown.

So I just posted and viewed. WHEN THE HELL DID WE GET TO WEDNESDAY?! Shit.

Quality Control.

You know how sometimes when you buy a cheap shirt, there's a quality control sticker in there? Like an "Inspected by #437" sticker to show you the supreme quality of the item was verified? Yeah. Well. Just call me Inspector #437.

So I'm painting the living room. (STILL.) Via a (Bob-approved) ladder. While on said ladder taping the crown moulding, I sorta fell off. In my defense, there is NO STICKER THAT SAYS DO NOT STAND ON TOP. (If I were the suing type, you could bet your ass I'd be at lawyers office right now. But I hate litigation.)

So. I stood on top. And toppled over. And put a knee into the side wall of our World Market entertainment cabinet. I put a knee INTO the wall. Not THROUGH the wall.


Inspector #437 Quality Control Checklist for World Market entertainment center:
-Quality- A+

-Sturdiness- A+

-Thickness of wood- Afucking+

-Reliability of said knee (post-topple)- F- which is down from a solid C+ pre-topple.

Attempt at normalcy.

I have to admit, last night I had a pretty major meltdown. To think of Bob getting in the cockpit of an airplane again did me in (he went back to work today). Luckily for me, I married one extremely level headed guy. I married my best friend who is able to calm me down, make me giggle, and move me forward.

So. Bob went to Chicago today to start work. And I started repainting the living room again (gray.... not blue). I also went to Walmart. How fun, right? Painting and Walmart in the same day. Sweet lord. I'm a glutton for punishment, obvs. However, this time with painting, IT'S GRAY!! Woo hoo! Gray!

And since we've already established that I'm a little sadistic, I've already decided to paint the dining room next. Holy balls. Evidently, I'm one dumb broad. Since the living room/walk through/hallway/whatevs is gray, I'm thinking a yellow dining room. I know, I know. Everyone is doing gray and yellow right now. But I like it. It will look amazing with our furniture. My only obstacle is getting Bob on board with the yellow. Just one small little thing, right? Gray was hard enough. But I think I can do it. Think happy thoughts for me, will ya?

So our upcoming days include (besides painting) work (gross), a weekend trip to Bob's family reunion (fun), and next week, some Hometown goodness for me (YAY!).

Until then, I'm elbow deep in 50 shades of gray. Just kidding. Only two. Supposedly. Well, hell. One blue and one gray.

Rest in Peace.

I've been trying to write this post for the last week. There have been so many emotions... mine, Bob's, all his fellow air national guardsmen. This has been a week of facing reality, a reality where four amazing men are no longer present.

If you google the articles about the crash, you'll read all about how incredible these four men were. How their families, while proud of their service, already miss them terribly. You'll read their wives being quoted saying they were loyal soldiers, but even more loyal dads, husbands, sons, and brothers. You'll read about the memorial service held Tuesday, where heads of state joined in honoring these four men and how they were recognized as honorable soldiers who died doing what they loved... protecting their country. Saving lives. Giving others a second chance.

But you won't read too much about the amazing families these men left behind. You won't read about the incredible wives like Marlo, who tonight told me to hug my husband every day, because I'd never know when it'd be the last. You won't read about the kids who stand proud for their fallen fathers, ready for receiving lines hundreds of people long, putting a smile ahead of their pain, or the kids not even old enough to stand. Instead being held by an aunt or cousin. You won't see articles about the parents who had to bury the sons they never expected to outlive. These are the people we need to remember. Not just the guys who are gone. But the ones they left behind.

In my last post, there was a picture of the MAFFS 7 plane the day it left. The last taxi out of Charlotte. Yesterday, they made their final taxi home. Starting tomorrow, they will be laid to rest. One by one.

May they all rest in peace. 

Remember.

They may be gone, but their ultimate sacrifice will never be forgotten.

Please remember the families of the four very brave volunteers who were lost Sunday night, as well as the two survivors as their broken bodies heal.

Remember the military family these guy left behind... The brothers and sisters who will continue to serve without them in the NC ANG.

Never forget how precious and fragile life is. Always remember.

Son of a Whoo-er.

So. I have a bone to pick with Scotch Blue Painters Tape. Lots of bones actually. Let's say one bone per every spot their shitty ass tape allowed my paint to bleed. That'd be approximately 437 bones. Omg. If somehow Scotch Blue Painters Tape reads this blog, please please please tell me an EASY way to fix all these bleed spots. Without repainting the damn baseboards.

Just last week, I saw a new commercial with their "no bleed" bullshit advertising. Who the eff is able to a) put that tape down, paint over it, and it not bleed through and b) pull that tape up and it not tear the paint. It seems like plain jane old school masking tape would have worked better. Not happy. Hear that, Scotch? NOT HAPPY.

So. Now that I've painstakingly put down all this tape (it almost took as long to put the tape down as it did to paint the walls... I did it that perfectly), painted the walls (a shade of blue that is NOT gray), and pulled the tape up, I have the most monster migraine ever. You may not see me tomorrow. Or for a while. Grrrrr.....