Did y’all have a good Halloween?

Dale and I did. Even though we didn’t really have plans, I ended up getting into my costume anyway. It took nearly two hours for me to get my make up right. Poor Dale was starving by the time we left for dinner.

We went to the Macaroni Grill. I was one of the only people there in costume. The others were a little boy in a Woody costume and another woman wearing cat ears. I felt a little out of place, but promptly forgot about it. Dinner was good. And while Dale waited for the check, I ran to the restroom to touch up my make up. As I was returning to my seat, I felt a tug on my tail. I thought it had gotten caught on something, but it turned out to have been the woman sitting at the next table.

She and her date laughed and so did Dale, and she said something about Dale saying it was OK. Then her date stood up and congratulated us on celebrating our anniversary.

Dale then explained that while I was gone, the woman had asked if she could pull my tail because she’d been dared by her date. Dale OK’d it, but cautioned her to tug gently. Then he asked what she’d gain by completing the dare.

“Oh, my date will sleep with me.”

Dale congratulated her, then she asked, “Who do you think is really gonna be the winner? Him or me?”

Dale politely declined to choose.

I guess she got to trick and treat tonight. ;D

Ryan really knows how to get into the Halloween spirit. I wish he was near enough to party with!

(more pam-kitty pics)

Happy Anniversary, Dale!

I Love You!

It’s been a wonderful three years, and I am looking forward to a lifetime more.

Happy Birthday, Leesa!

Happy Halloween!

I like this cooler weather. It’s really nice to go outside and not break a sweat just walking to the car. And at night…. Ahhhh, the weather makes it great for snuggling under the covers before falling asleep.

Sock monkeys, that is. [via bwg]

Ignore this entry. I just needed to rant for a bit.

I got home from class and went into an insanely bad mood. I’m not sure why. I’m in full-fledged martyr mode after having to collect and take out all the trash, unload the dishwasher, and wash up the naaaasty dishes left out from last night’s chili fest.

I really don’t have any reason to complain about the dishes, since the guys did run a quick load yesterday AND do all the cooking, but I am annoyed none the less.

The trash, however, I do feel justified in grousing about, since I had to collect it from all over the damn house myself, and that included picking up empty bottles and cans that were not consumed by me and had been left out on tables everywhere.

I don’t mind cleaning up after myself, but it really annoys me to clean up individual garbage like that, when I’ve made a point of putting a trash can next to Dale’s desk. It’s been there for weeks, yet the only thing I’ve ever emptied out of it has been a cat.

Bah, I’m just grumpy, and I’ll be over it soon enough.

And now I present to you:

DANCING AARON

(Much love and hugs to Aaron for being such a good sport!)

Aaron is making chili.

Dale is making cornbread.

Jer is making cheesecake.

And I don’t have to do a damn thing.

I love these guys!

Sewed. Sewed. Sewed. Went to TRF. Friends. Fun. Aaron in a kilt. “Why’s that man wearing a skirt, Mommy?” Food on a stick. Funnel cake. Beer. Bodices. Tired. Slept. Have a cold. Going back to bed.

This may sound like one of those inspirational but fictional stories that have been floating around, but it’s not. The US Navy web site contains a report of this story along with photos.

This is an e-mail from a young ensign aboard USS Winston Churchill (DDG-81) to his parents. (Churchill is an Arleigh Burke class AEGIS guided missile destroyer, commissioned March 10, 2001, and is the only active US Navy warship named after a foreign national.)

Dear Dad,

We are still at sea. The remainder of our port visits have all been canceled. We have spent every day since the attacks going back and forth within imaginary boxes drawn in the ocean, standing high-security watches, and trying to make the best of it. We have seen the articles and the photographs, and they are sickening. Being isolated, I don’t think we appreciate the full scope of what is happening back home, but we are definitely feeling the effects.

About two hours ago, we were hailed by a German Navy destroyer, Lutjens, requesting permission to pass close by our port side. Strange, since we’re in the middle of an empty ocean, but the captain acquiesced and we prepared to render them honors from our bridgewing. As they were making their approach, our conning officer used binoculars and announced that Lutjens was flying not the German, but the American flag. As she came alongside us, we saw the American flag flying half-mast and her entire crew topside standing at silent, rigid attention in their dress uniforms. They had made a sign that was displayed on her side that read “We Stand By You.” There was not a dry eye on the bridge as they stayed alongside us for a few minutes and saluted. It was the most powerful thing I have seen in my life. The German Navy did an incredible thing for this crew, and it has truly been the highest point in the days since the attacks.

It’s amazing to think that only half-century ago things were quite different. After Lutjens pulled away, the Officer of the Deck, who had been planning to get out later this year, turned to me and said, “I’m staying Navy.” I’ll write you when I know more about when I’ll be home, but this is it for now.

Love you guys.

As a military brat, I really appreciate the significance of the German’s gesture. I got teary the first time I read this story. Then when I read it out loud to my husband, I had to pause several times because I was crying so hard.

I offer my deepest gratitude to Germany and the crew of the Lutjens.

Sounds painful!

Pamela: kathie doesn’t speak 133+

Aaron: l4m3

Pamela: i said i wanted a plain T-shirt that just said “pr0n” across the boobs, and she gave me a blank look

Aaron: i have really been surprised by how many people dont speak l33+

Kathie: I speak some. I’m just not fluent.

Aaron: hehe

More patriotic Flash. But it is kind of funny. Can’t beat Dubya playing the bongos.

Pamela: oh no! i have wench burn!

bwg: that’s what happens when you push your boobs up to meet the sun

Today, Kathie and I watched Gormenghast, a movie based on the book of the same title by Mervyn Peake.

We both found the mini series enjoyable. The actors fell into their roles perfectly. The story itself was amusing, tragic, humorous, and gothic. And the sets and costumes were absolutely stunning. I’ve come across two different web sites about the mini series. Both contain a wealth of information and some of the best info about costume design I’ve seen for a movie site. *drool*

I’ll have to get my hands on my own copy of the DVD as well as the books.

I first learned about something like this from the floating notebooks group on Live Journal. The concept is pretty cool. Start a journal, write an entry or a letter, put in photos, decorate it, whatever, then send the book on to another person. That person adds his or her own bits, then sends it on to the next person. Eventually, the book will return to the originator (hence “circle journey”) and the process can begin all over.

Circle Journey books are designed just for this purpose. You can even get a kit that comes with custom-sized mailers.

How neat! I want to start one.

I ran one of my earlier posts through TheSpark’s Burnmaker. This was the result:

My shitty theme song is Walking On Sunshine!

Your sorry upbeat approach to life makes “Walking on Sunshine” the fucking perfect anthem for you. We can see you dancing down the fucking vegetable isle with your sorry grocery cart, smiling at all the fucking checkout clerks. We sure hope you and your monkey’ve had your sorry Wheaties to fuckin’ keep up with your sorry perky pace all day long. This bullshit happy, horn-driven tune carries you to fuckin’ work every shitty day. And even in those brief lapses when you and your hemorrhoids’re not fully on your sorry game, “Walking On Sunshine” seems to fuckin’ put shits in perspective and get you and your jive back to your sorry super groove. Are you listening? “And don’t that shit feel GOOD?” Who cares that this bullshit tune was a goddamn one-hit wonder for Katrina and the fucking Waves? Don’t make me ask again. Even that quality matches your sorry one-of-a goddamn-kindness. You and your hemorrhoids’re walkin’ on sunshine and spreading that bastard wherever you go.

I’ll buy that. You are a fiery pukey pussy. Fuckin’ what’s
Your sorry Theme Song?