Thanks to the other Lisa, I'm posting again...

So I have been given the push to post again by one of the best bloggers I know, thanks Lisa M.!

It's been awhile so there's been quite a lot that has happened. Here's the quick 5 second update: I have my husband back, I've changed jobs, I've moved, and I am incredibly happy. I have shed the job and stress that was making me so miserable and have been able to let go of the responsibility and pressure of a life consuming career.

Its amazing how change can open your eyes to a whole new world an give you a new sense of being. San Diego has been a great experience for both Brent and I - though we have been the poorest we have been since we got married. But through the financial crisis, I find that I am happier now than I have been in a long time.

San Diego offers all kinds of things that we can do on a budget - my favorite is a day at the beach. I have gone and sat on the sand and read while Brent surfs. I have collected sea shells and played in the waves with friends and family. I have had a fun afternoon of picnic food and chasing seagulls. I have listened to Brent play guitar next to a bonfire while we roast marshmallows and make s'mores. I have spent a day exploring the wonders of the tidepools. I feel good at the beach... and its free.

Nightmare on My Street

I have been having the worst nightmares the last couple of nights. The most clear one was two nights ago, and it started out at a theater where some friends and I were auditioning for a musical. People I haven't seen or thought of in YEARS were there along with some current friends. I got the lead and then the director (an old friend) left and a new director came in. I was late for rehearsal and my friend from high school had taken my part, I argued with her, telling her she knew I had that role but the new director had us re-audition. During the new auditions I couldn't sing a note to save my life. I was off the whole time and started crying after being extremely frustrated. Then, somehow, that dream went into a new dream, and I was kidnapped by people I didn't know. I was in a car and they kept beating me - I was scared to death. We passed a hotel and I jumped out and ran up to a bellman that was in the circle drive and I told him I needed the police. I kept trying to convince him I wasn't crazy. He sent out a guy (who was a person I worked with at an old job) and they said they were taking me to a room to keep me safe until the police arrived. When we got to the room and he opened the door, I could see the kidnappers inside. I ran and jumped down flight after flight of stairs. I finally reached the bottom floor and took a ladies hat and scarf and forced a family into a room where I called 9-1-1. The ambulance came and got me and I saw the kidnappers as I was being wheeled out...then I woke up. What the hell was that all about?!

Bah Humbug

It's Christmas and I am home alone. Why? Because my husband is in Kuwait, defending our freedom - or something like that. As much as I support my husband and all he does, I can't help but feel a little bitter about the fact that the military always finds a way to ruin holidays and special events for me. Not only is he on the other side of the planet, but he is also in the field and can not even call home on Christmas. Thaaaaaaat's nice. Anyway, it is the cherry that tops the week from hell. This past week has been incredibly emotionally draining - my mind has been running a hundred miles an hour and not in a constructive direction. I won't go into details, but I am ready for the calm, collected Lisa to come back from wherever she went. I need her so I can focus and get everything done at work and home before I head out to California to pick Brent up.
On the up side, I did get to spend a nice day with my family. Everyone behaved and had a good time together, lunch was fan-freaking-tastic. Brent has a bunch of gifts to open when he gets home; I plan on leaving the Christmas stuff up until then, which means 2 more weeks of Christmas for me. At least I don't have the lights up on the outside of the house... the neighbors would hate me and the HOA would hang me from the basketball hoop in the community park if I left them up any later than New Years Day.

Momma who bore me....

My mom is perhaps one of the most interesting people I know and yet I don't know everything about her. One thing I DO know is that she is the biggest flirt I have ever met.
I think it comes naturally to her, but I have yet to understand if she is conscious of the behavior (i.e. it is chosen) or if she doesn't have a clue as to what she is doing. She's a smart lady, my money's on the first.
I have recently been thinking about how much of her natural flirtyness (is that a word?!) I have inherited. I would, while wrapped in my cloak of insecurity, say that I have inherited none; I am too straight forward to be flirty. I think flirting requires some insinuation that there is an unknown to be found out... I am too honest and open to have anything hidden.
In so many ways I am a cookie cutter image of my mother; I can look at her and know exactly what I will look like in 20 years, and yet we think and behave in VERY different ways.
I can't think of a suitable example to give at the moment, you will just have to trust me, but I am sure one will surface eventually. Hang in there... I think this gets better.

Everything Has a Beginning

I am one of those people that has always hated writing in a diary, there isn't enough interaction with other people. As much as I would like to be a shy person, I am definitley my mother's daughter, and I can't help but want to talk to other people. (We can discuss my mother in more detail at a later date.) I suppose it is a good thing that I have always been driven to follow the rules, it kept me from talking to others when I was supposed to be quiet.
Anyhow, I still have this horrible habit of speaking my mind in not so appropriate places - I hope my blog can remedy that. :-)

On the off chance that you are a stranger reading my blog, you should know a few things. Brent, my husband, "the saint", is in the Navy and has been in Kuwait for the last 7 months. I don't know if you have ever experienced that kind of seperation, but I can tell you from my experience, it creates, and I have, a mean case of pent up sexual frustration.
When I was single, it didn't matter if there was a break in a relationship, there was always a guy to fill in (not that I would have had sex before marriage - kids, that's wrong), but at least there was someone you could reach out and touch without hellfire and brimstone drowning your every thought. (If you aren't married and don't know, it is voodoo to touch someone else when you are married, no matter how frustrated you are, and I guess they burn you at the stake if you do.) Anyhow, I can't even begin to describe how badly I want to "hold someone's hand". (Kids, that is all you should be doing until you get married.) The drive has gotten so bad that I had a guy hug me the other day - didn't matter who it was - and I couldn't help but not want to let go.
Fortunately for me, and you, if you are reading this with any regularity, Brent will be home in January and he will hold my hand all I want. Until then, I suffer quietly in a corner with gloves on. No touchie.