I sure as heck don't. I am finally back home. I think I have some sort of issue when I fly by myself. Delayed flights, canceled flights, you name it.
I suppose the extra 18 hours in Wisconsin didn't kill me like a failed engine with no backup generator could have. It's just such a tease to be sitting on the runway, bracing for takeoff only to be told you are returning to the gate.
*sigh*
I got home yesterday, worked a few hours and essentially slept until this morning. I am still exhausted. I might have something more entertaining to say tomorrow, but I can't promise anything.
Until then...
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Planes, Family and Ink
It seems every time we go on a double date with JB's sister and brother in law we end the night at the tattoo shop? This time it was my turn for new ink. It's pretty awesome but hurt like I have never hurt before. Wowsers dude. Then again that's what I get for putting a tattoo on the top of my foot. Totally worth it though.
I'm actually in the office today, in a skirt even. See my super awesome heels that I am rocking? I kind of missed them and to my great surprise wearing heels again has been a pretty easy transition. Like a duck to water people. I actually feel like a 'real' employee for once. It's kind of strange.
I hate surprises. Well not really I LOVE surprises when I don't know they are coming which seems counter-intuitive. You know when someone tells you "I have a surprise for you" and then you have to wait to find out what it is? Yeah, that drives me NUTS. What I do like is surprising other people. I made a very valiant attempt at that this weekend. The big family reunion was scheduled for this past weekend and up until a week ago I didn't think I could make it. Because I am made of win and awesome I decided I would book a ticket because I can. That and I only have one grandparent left and I would like to see him as often as I can.
Things got off to a rocky start but I got into town only two hours later than originally anticipated. (Thank you again to the wonderful Delta employee who switched my flights to avoid another layover in Cincinnati and instead sent me directly past Go.) I managed to spill the beans to my sister while sitting in the Atlanta airport because I needed a ride. Eventually I had to call my mom as well to get a ride so her surprise was spoiled too, kind of. She was still surprised but not how I had planned it.
The reunion went well and I kicked some major butt at our games, minus that whole Apple stacking competition. It was a draw anyway. However, the elephant game and the noodle game I was the champion. Who knew I was so awesome at swinging nylons around my head? Although I did have a 6" height advantage on my cousin so perhaps it wasn't a very fair fight. Or it was just the mojitos that helped. I really believe everyone should have fresh mint growing out the back door to collect. We even put them in the 'Grandma Pitcher'. This was a pitcher we used to bring Grandma flowers while she was in the hospital. Cheaper and sturdier than a vase! Although I am now mojito free and I still think it is a good idea to share these pictures with the universe. But that's just the kind of awesome I am. Please feel free to have a laugh at my expense.
The culprit
Waiting to start
Just me winning
After the festivities I was informed by Fuss-bucket and Nervous-Nilly (the terminally cranky and overbearing aunts) that we were to go through some of Grandma's things and pick what we wanted. Of course there was a plethora of costume jewelry and various other knick-knacks. It just felt so wrong divvying her up but this was my chance to have something. Whatever was left was to be set out for a rummage sale. I'm not sure which though churned my stomach more, choosing what small trinket I would have to remember her by or that some stranger would be pawing her things with no regard to the incredible woman who owned them. Despite the tears we had some good laughs. The best part was when the breeze blew just the right way, we all swore we could smell her. It was a nice little reminder while we reminisced and handled her belongings like they were precious diamonds.
I am now the proud owner a few of her handkerchiefs and a pendant necklace that is actually a liberty dime. She received that from a cousin at her retirement party. The last stop of the day was to go and visit her. It was a sucker punch to the gut to see her grave. There is no marker yet and no pretty grass to sugar coat reality. How is it that talking to the ground is so cathartic? The single pink carnation I left sure did look out of place but it was kind of poetic. Something so beautiful in the midst of all the upturned ground.
It was a beautiful weekend filled with lots of laughs and great memories. I'm always glad to come to visit for a bit but I miss JB and I'm excited to be home again.
I'm actually in the office today, in a skirt even. See my super awesome heels that I am rocking? I kind of missed them and to my great surprise wearing heels again has been a pretty easy transition. Like a duck to water people. I actually feel like a 'real' employee for once. It's kind of strange.
I hate surprises. Well not really I LOVE surprises when I don't know they are coming which seems counter-intuitive. You know when someone tells you "I have a surprise for you" and then you have to wait to find out what it is? Yeah, that drives me NUTS. What I do like is surprising other people. I made a very valiant attempt at that this weekend. The big family reunion was scheduled for this past weekend and up until a week ago I didn't think I could make it. Because I am made of win and awesome I decided I would book a ticket because I can. That and I only have one grandparent left and I would like to see him as often as I can.
Things got off to a rocky start but I got into town only two hours later than originally anticipated. (Thank you again to the wonderful Delta employee who switched my flights to avoid another layover in Cincinnati and instead sent me directly past Go.) I managed to spill the beans to my sister while sitting in the Atlanta airport because I needed a ride. Eventually I had to call my mom as well to get a ride so her surprise was spoiled too, kind of. She was still surprised but not how I had planned it.
The reunion went well and I kicked some major butt at our games, minus that whole Apple stacking competition. It was a draw anyway. However, the elephant game and the noodle game I was the champion. Who knew I was so awesome at swinging nylons around my head? Although I did have a 6" height advantage on my cousin so perhaps it wasn't a very fair fight. Or it was just the mojitos that helped. I really believe everyone should have fresh mint growing out the back door to collect. We even put them in the 'Grandma Pitcher'. This was a pitcher we used to bring Grandma flowers while she was in the hospital. Cheaper and sturdier than a vase! Although I am now mojito free and I still think it is a good idea to share these pictures with the universe. But that's just the kind of awesome I am. Please feel free to have a laugh at my expense.
After the festivities I was informed by Fuss-bucket and Nervous-Nilly (the terminally cranky and overbearing aunts) that we were to go through some of Grandma's things and pick what we wanted. Of course there was a plethora of costume jewelry and various other knick-knacks. It just felt so wrong divvying her up but this was my chance to have something. Whatever was left was to be set out for a rummage sale. I'm not sure which though churned my stomach more, choosing what small trinket I would have to remember her by or that some stranger would be pawing her things with no regard to the incredible woman who owned them. Despite the tears we had some good laughs. The best part was when the breeze blew just the right way, we all swore we could smell her. It was a nice little reminder while we reminisced and handled her belongings like they were precious diamonds.
I am now the proud owner a few of her handkerchiefs and a pendant necklace that is actually a liberty dime. She received that from a cousin at her retirement party. The last stop of the day was to go and visit her. It was a sucker punch to the gut to see her grave. There is no marker yet and no pretty grass to sugar coat reality. How is it that talking to the ground is so cathartic? The single pink carnation I left sure did look out of place but it was kind of poetic. Something so beautiful in the midst of all the upturned ground.
It was a beautiful weekend filled with lots of laughs and great memories. I'm always glad to come to visit for a bit but I miss JB and I'm excited to be home again.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Gee, thanks Michael.
It's been a while since I have done any blogging not to mention and memes. In an effort to play nice in the blogosphere, I, Bernice, am actually participating in this one. Which one is it, you ask? Oh the one about what materials you have stashed away in your bathroom to pass the time while you pass the, er... time.
JB and I affectionately call that corner of our bathroom the Poop Closet or the Blasting Zone. See, here in Florida, it is all the rage to have your toilet separated from the rest of your bathroom by a door. It's kind of nice, but kind of a pain. The best part of our bathroom is the owners of the home thought it would be appropriate to paint our bathroom a shocking shade of orange. It isn't pumpkin, it isn't orange, it is CAUTION YOU ARE ABOUT TO BE MORTALLY INJURED orange. I think it makes safety vests look tame. That is not the point of this meme, but I told you anyway because we are close like that.
The funny thing is, I don't have anything to report to you. There are no magazines in the bathroom. There are no books. There is a toilet, a scrub brush and a plunger. I guess that is something I never understood. Why would you want to sit in there and hang out for a while on a regular basis? Maybe there is a need for the masses to include more fiber in their diets? I mean, I can understand the occasional illness that causes some rifts in the harmony of your bowels but for the day to day? I got nothin for you folks.
Now if I was a mean, over-sharing wife, which apparently I am, I would tell you that JB, the man of my dreams, the love of my life, would be quite a bored little boy without his iPhone in the can.
I am not tagging anyone on this, but you can go and see Michael Morse's response and who he tagged. While you are at it, check out some other stuff he has written. I mean, if a man can make a blog about reading material interesting, he has to be worth a second look, right?
JB and I affectionately call that corner of our bathroom the Poop Closet or the Blasting Zone. See, here in Florida, it is all the rage to have your toilet separated from the rest of your bathroom by a door. It's kind of nice, but kind of a pain. The best part of our bathroom is the owners of the home thought it would be appropriate to paint our bathroom a shocking shade of orange. It isn't pumpkin, it isn't orange, it is CAUTION YOU ARE ABOUT TO BE MORTALLY INJURED orange. I think it makes safety vests look tame. That is not the point of this meme, but I told you anyway because we are close like that.
The funny thing is, I don't have anything to report to you. There are no magazines in the bathroom. There are no books. There is a toilet, a scrub brush and a plunger. I guess that is something I never understood. Why would you want to sit in there and hang out for a while on a regular basis? Maybe there is a need for the masses to include more fiber in their diets? I mean, I can understand the occasional illness that causes some rifts in the harmony of your bowels but for the day to day? I got nothin for you folks.
Now if I was a mean, over-sharing wife, which apparently I am, I would tell you that JB, the man of my dreams, the love of my life, would be quite a bored little boy without his iPhone in the can.
I am not tagging anyone on this, but you can go and see Michael Morse's response and who he tagged. While you are at it, check out some other stuff he has written. I mean, if a man can make a blog about reading material interesting, he has to be worth a second look, right?
Saturday, June 19, 2010
When you're gone.
Last week, we were sitting in church and our pastor mentioned something about doing a funeral for an elderly woman. He said he likes to ask the family about the person and their life. Normally he hears stories from sad but proud family members, eager to brag about their loved one, but it was the one time he question was answered with a deafening silence that left a mark on him. Of course this made me think. What would people say if I died? Morbid, I know but I couldn't help myself. Will people look at my casket and say, "she got it right?" How do I even start?
I struggle daily with my job. In a sixth degrees sort of way, I can see how I make a difference. When I was an EMT, I could see, feel and hear the difference. Since I am human, I generally prefer the instant gratification. So do we all hope to be defined by one single act or do we try to make the greatest impact we can? What makes the greatest impact?
The last six months or so of my life has been a roller coaster of emotions. I got engaged, endured the trials of a long distance relationship, lost my maternal grandma, moved across the country, got married and lost my paternal grandma. It has been an absolute whirlwind and a test to my new marriage. I am so absolutely thankful for JB. He has been there through the tears, anguish and anger, the sleepless nights, the long hours traveling, the boring family get-togethers and my own unpredictable emotions. He has witnessed my family at their best and our moments of the worst and still he loves me. What a crazy wonderful man.
Is it the empty dishwasher that is so great? Is it the silent hugs while I cry over a heart wrenching loss? Is it the extra stolen kiss before he walks out the door for work? Or is it a combination of all of these things?
What are you doing to leave your mark? What are people going to say about you when you're gone?
Think about it.
I struggle daily with my job. In a sixth degrees sort of way, I can see how I make a difference. When I was an EMT, I could see, feel and hear the difference. Since I am human, I generally prefer the instant gratification. So do we all hope to be defined by one single act or do we try to make the greatest impact we can? What makes the greatest impact?
The last six months or so of my life has been a roller coaster of emotions. I got engaged, endured the trials of a long distance relationship, lost my maternal grandma, moved across the country, got married and lost my paternal grandma. It has been an absolute whirlwind and a test to my new marriage. I am so absolutely thankful for JB. He has been there through the tears, anguish and anger, the sleepless nights, the long hours traveling, the boring family get-togethers and my own unpredictable emotions. He has witnessed my family at their best and our moments of the worst and still he loves me. What a crazy wonderful man.
Is it the empty dishwasher that is so great? Is it the silent hugs while I cry over a heart wrenching loss? Is it the extra stolen kiss before he walks out the door for work? Or is it a combination of all of these things?
What are you doing to leave your mark? What are people going to say about you when you're gone?
Think about it.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
HELP!!
I miss my big brother.
My favorite part is when I see him now he tries really hard not to smile. But he loves me so he can't help it which just makes me all sorts of warm and fuzzy in the ol' ticker of mine.
It's his 30th birthday tomorrow. Pretty monumental indeed and I'm 16 hours away.
In an effort to make up for missing it, I need to call in a favor. A big, huge favor... see he likes to collect and wear as many fire department shirts as possible. Does anyone want to help me out? I'd love to pay for and send him as many as possible.
Of course this starts blurring the lines of being anonymous but hell, I'll do it for him. So, shoot me an email if you are interested in helping. I will owe you BIG time.
My favorite part is when I see him now he tries really hard not to smile. But he loves me so he can't help it which just makes me all sorts of warm and fuzzy in the ol' ticker of mine.
It's his 30th birthday tomorrow. Pretty monumental indeed and I'm 16 hours away.
In an effort to make up for missing it, I need to call in a favor. A big, huge favor... see he likes to collect and wear as many fire department shirts as possible. Does anyone want to help me out? I'd love to pay for and send him as many as possible.
Of course this starts blurring the lines of being anonymous but hell, I'll do it for him. So, shoot me an email if you are interested in helping. I will owe you BIG time.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
The Thing About Florida
So I was born and raised in Wisconsin. True cheese head through and through. My dad worked at a cheese plant for 16+ years, hell I even worked there for a few summers. We won’t mention the toxic chemicals I used to do my job or the hours I spent in a warehouse alone checking jars of cheese, because well then I would be bitter and not just sayin. That is not the point. The point is that in Wisconsin we have animals that are gross and scary and make you do the icky-icky dance that is required to get the goose bumps off of you. Don't laugh at me! You know exactly what I'm talking about! I guess when you grow up around mosquitoes the size of humming birds, ticks that are just dying to burrow deep into your skin and get all fat and stretchy from feasting on your delicious O+ blood, you just kind of get used to them. It's the way it is. Sure once in a while you find one of the little mongrels and you do the shudder shake like it's going out of style but for the most part, they aren't that terrifying.
Then one day, you fall in love and you pack up your stuff and move to Florida. Talk about culture shock here people. Eh's have become Ya'lls and everyone talks like they have a mouthful of cow poop and they have the nerve to look at me funny because they assume I come from the land of wood chippers and brats (the food, not the spoiled child). Of course I come from the land of sauerkraut laden goodness but I have never once operated a wood chipper, although I'm sure I could figure it out easy enough...
Right... my point. Peeps are weird down here but what is even stranger is the wildlife. Oh I have spent a good amount of time gazing wistfully and the pelicans and boobies (the birds not the body parts) thinking how lovely the wildlife is. JB was kind enough to remove the palmetto bugs (as they like to call them) before I came down. Unfortunately there are more than 8 of them in this world and for the record they are no palmetto bugs they are friggin ROACHES people. It's like calling an alligator a hungry little lizard. I think I made it four days until it happened.
Do you know I now have to wear shoes whenever I leave my house? The garage is a war zone and as I found out, so is my front walk. I went outside to get the beast her dinner and the first step I took into the garage narrowly avoided tromping on a giant, black bug that was almost big enough to put a saddle on. This wouldn't have been quite so traumatizing if I hadn't been barefoot. I'm sure you are laughing at me now saying, Silly Bernice. It's just a little bug. Come on people! These ain't your regular ol' household roaches. They are the size of Nantucket! Blechk.
Fast forward to last night. It is garbage day today so of course the entire neighborhood has their garbage out to the curb by 3:30pm sharp. It's a little creepy actually, but that is all for another post. I had gone grocery shopping to feed the two teenage boys that will soon be cohabitating here and needed to make room for the new food. Of course this means the two-week old box of Little Ceaser's Hot N' Ready pizza had to go. I skipped out the door giddy and oblivious. What once was my boring old leaf-laden front steps was now a party for geckos. I repeat... blehck. Sure they are cute in pictures and in Geico commercials but they aren't so cute when you are doing the two-step barefoot through a moving gecko minefield. They mostly blend in with the concrete so it was even harder to locate the little buggers before stepping on them. And now my toes are all curled up at the thought of squishing a little creepy crawly between my toes. You know yours are too! If not, you are a freak.
Thankfully on the way back they had all mostly gone into hiding so my path was relatively clear of lounging lizards.
So what is my point? My point is that I have learned several things.
1. Always wear something on your feet when leaving the house. Tis better to squish something with at least a sandal barrier.
2. When going outside at night, turn the light on, count to 10 and send the hound out first. She doesn't seem to mind the little critters at all.
3. If all else fails, have the man do it. Situation avoided completely.
4. We aint' in 'Sconsin anymore Toto
5. I am a giant weenie.
So there you have it folks. This big ol' tough-girl squirms at the sight of "icky" things. But if you tell anyone my secret, I will kick your ass.
Then one day, you fall in love and you pack up your stuff and move to Florida. Talk about culture shock here people. Eh's have become Ya'lls and everyone talks like they have a mouthful of cow poop and they have the nerve to look at me funny because they assume I come from the land of wood chippers and brats (the food, not the spoiled child). Of course I come from the land of sauerkraut laden goodness but I have never once operated a wood chipper, although I'm sure I could figure it out easy enough...
Right... my point. Peeps are weird down here but what is even stranger is the wildlife. Oh I have spent a good amount of time gazing wistfully and the pelicans and boobies (the birds not the body parts) thinking how lovely the wildlife is. JB was kind enough to remove the palmetto bugs (as they like to call them) before I came down. Unfortunately there are more than 8 of them in this world and for the record they are no palmetto bugs they are friggin ROACHES people. It's like calling an alligator a hungry little lizard. I think I made it four days until it happened.
Do you know I now have to wear shoes whenever I leave my house? The garage is a war zone and as I found out, so is my front walk. I went outside to get the beast her dinner and the first step I took into the garage narrowly avoided tromping on a giant, black bug that was almost big enough to put a saddle on. This wouldn't have been quite so traumatizing if I hadn't been barefoot. I'm sure you are laughing at me now saying, Silly Bernice. It's just a little bug. Come on people! These ain't your regular ol' household roaches. They are the size of Nantucket! Blechk.
Fast forward to last night. It is garbage day today so of course the entire neighborhood has their garbage out to the curb by 3:30pm sharp. It's a little creepy actually, but that is all for another post. I had gone grocery shopping to feed the two teenage boys that will soon be cohabitating here and needed to make room for the new food. Of course this means the two-week old box of Little Ceaser's Hot N' Ready pizza had to go. I skipped out the door giddy and oblivious. What once was my boring old leaf-laden front steps was now a party for geckos. I repeat... blehck. Sure they are cute in pictures and in Geico commercials but they aren't so cute when you are doing the two-step barefoot through a moving gecko minefield. They mostly blend in with the concrete so it was even harder to locate the little buggers before stepping on them. And now my toes are all curled up at the thought of squishing a little creepy crawly between my toes. You know yours are too! If not, you are a freak.
Thankfully on the way back they had all mostly gone into hiding so my path was relatively clear of lounging lizards.
So what is my point? My point is that I have learned several things.
1. Always wear something on your feet when leaving the house. Tis better to squish something with at least a sandal barrier.
2. When going outside at night, turn the light on, count to 10 and send the hound out first. She doesn't seem to mind the little critters at all.
3. If all else fails, have the man do it. Situation avoided completely.
4. We aint' in 'Sconsin anymore Toto
5. I am a giant weenie.
So there you have it folks. This big ol' tough-girl squirms at the sight of "icky" things. But if you tell anyone my secret, I will kick your ass.
Oh hi! Just me again...
There have been a few road blocks in this whole Renew Bernice's License Quest. The awesome part is, renewing my WI license is step one to getting my FL license. Somewhere in there is a stepping stone on my National Registry and of course applications with the State.
It is a bit overwhelming right now, but darnit I am going to see this through.
It is a bit overwhelming right now, but darnit I am going to see this through.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Liar liar pants on fire!
The hunt is on. I am doing the research for getting my license down here in the great state of Florida. I requested letters of recommendation from my Chief and Assistant Chief, I'm tracking down my renewal for my Wisconsin license (woohoo for doing the refresher anyway!) and I printed out the application.
I don't know where or what I'm going to do with this, but we shall see. It seems that the local FD only has fire and EMS type peeps so I'm not sure what to do there. Let's face it, I have no business doing FFI because well, there's no way I can drag anyone above 150# out of a burning building. Heck, I don't even know if I can drag a 150# person around. And I haven't talked to JB about it. Maybe I just need another project to occupy my time. Maybe I miss going on calls. Maybe I'm mental.
Ack. Someone hold me.
I don't know where or what I'm going to do with this, but we shall see. It seems that the local FD only has fire and EMS type peeps so I'm not sure what to do there. Let's face it, I have no business doing FFI because well, there's no way I can drag anyone above 150# out of a burning building. Heck, I don't even know if I can drag a 150# person around. And I haven't talked to JB about it. Maybe I just need another project to occupy my time. Maybe I miss going on calls. Maybe I'm mental.
Ack. Someone hold me.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
The hunt is on.
With my recent change in status and demographics, I am finding I have a lot of time on my hands. It has been quite the switch from 2 jobs and a the fire department to one job that starts and ends at the end of my hallway. I spend a good portion of every day absolutely amazed at how blessed I am to have what I have and be where I am. I have a husband that loves me more than words can describe, a beach of beautiful white sand and blue water 10 minutes away and a job that allows me to live comfortably and telecommute every day. There truly isn't much more I could ask for though I wont deny the list of wants is still present.
I am very happy to say that both JB and I have started working out every day. He has gone back to training every week day and also finds time to get on the treadmill on the weekends. I have had a few days here and there that I haven't done much of anything, but our eating habits have been better and less frequent as well as our water consumption has increased. Before, daily exercise was a dream and if I did take the time to do it, it took away from my dreams quite literally. Most days this just wasn't an option when I was lucky to get 5 or 6 hours of sleep at night as it was.
So here I sit... dare I say it? Bored! I have crocheted several baby blankets for friends. I am maintaining a household daily, working out daily and yet I still have time on my hands. I swear I have entered another dimension!
What do I do with myself? I'm trying to write more but as you can see, I'm finding subject matter to be a bit of a challenge. I mean, you people can only hear about my freakishly long spans of sleep before you sharpen your pitch forks and light the torches.
What is a girl to do? Perhaps it's time to visit the local community center. I wonder if they have anything to do there...
I am very happy to say that both JB and I have started working out every day. He has gone back to training every week day and also finds time to get on the treadmill on the weekends. I have had a few days here and there that I haven't done much of anything, but our eating habits have been better and less frequent as well as our water consumption has increased. Before, daily exercise was a dream and if I did take the time to do it, it took away from my dreams quite literally. Most days this just wasn't an option when I was lucky to get 5 or 6 hours of sleep at night as it was.
So here I sit... dare I say it? Bored! I have crocheted several baby blankets for friends. I am maintaining a household daily, working out daily and yet I still have time on my hands. I swear I have entered another dimension!
What do I do with myself? I'm trying to write more but as you can see, I'm finding subject matter to be a bit of a challenge. I mean, you people can only hear about my freakishly long spans of sleep before you sharpen your pitch forks and light the torches.
What is a girl to do? Perhaps it's time to visit the local community center. I wonder if they have anything to do there...
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