The Jack Lesson

“Okay Amber. Where’s your jack?” Tom said seriously.

We were standing outside and I was peering intently into my car’s trunk. Tom has been reviewing a bunch of stuff with me before he goes to Korea.

Is it wrong that the first thing that popped into my head was Jack from Titanic? I wanted to be all, “Tom, Jack is dead. He froze to death in the water, didn’t you know?” I was tempted to say it but I didn’t think Tom would be amused. He was taking this review stuff seriously.

“My jack is….” I said, my eyes scanning the area. “Here.” I picked up a silver thing. I wanted to hold it over my head like a trophy and hum a ballad but again, Tom probably wouldn’t have liked that.

“And your spare tire?” Tom continued.

Hey. Where was my praise for finding the jack? Oh well.

“Under the flap in the trunk,” I replied triumphantly. I lifted up the flap and was hit by the smell of burning rubber, since it was so hot out. “It smells.” I pinched my nose.

“It’s rubber,” Tom said simply.

I wanted to make a joke about rubbers. Ugh, why did Tom have no sense-of-humor when he was teaching me things?

“Do you know how to change a tire?” Tom wondered.

I stroked my chin. “Isn’t that what USAA is for? We pay for roadside assistance.”

Tom frowned. “You should know how to do it. Suppose it takes hours for someone to help?”

“Isn’t that what Amanda’s husband is for?” I asked, naming my friend’s husband.

“He could be working. Then what?”

“Uhhh….”

So Tom explained it all to me, pantomiming how to change a tire. There were so many dirty jokes I could have said, especially when he was bent over pretending to pump the deflated tire in the air so it could come off. I giggled once and Tom said sharply, “Pay attention, this is important,” so I mashed my lips together.

When Tom finished with the car stuff he asked if I knew how to weed eat.

“I plan on taking scissors and cutting the grass along the house,” I said seriously.

“Weed eating is faster.”

“Our weed eater is as big as I am and it scares me. Suppose I weed eat off my foot?”

Tom sighed and rubbed his temples. He was probably thinking, “Of all the wives in the world, I got stuck with this one.”

“You’ll be fine,” Tom promised.

“But what if I lose a toe? Would you still love me without a big toe?”

Tom blinked at me. “How could you lose a toe when you’ll be wearing shoes?”

Oh, good point. When I pictured myself weed eating I was in flip flops since it’s hot and all.

“I mixed up enough stuff you’ll need for the weed eater. It’s a mixture of oil and gas. No,” Tom said, pointing at me sharply. He knows me well enough to know that I was going to make a crack at the gas comment. (“Fart!”)

“Make sure you bring your car in every 3000 miles for an oil change. I’ll randomly ask you how many miles you’re at when we Skype,” Tom said. He’s big on changing oil every 3000 miles. He doesn’t understand why all people aren’t anal about this. “And they wonder why their cars crap out on them,” Tom will gripe.

“You’re going to mention car oil when we Skype? How romantic,” I said glumly. I pictured us talking on Skype, asking how each other’s day went and then Tom going, “And what’s your oil at today?”

“I think that’s it,” Tom said. “I think I’ve gone over everything I wanted you to know.”

“Thank you,” I said and bowed. I was pretending he was that old dude in The Karate Kid teaching me everything that he knew.

“You’ll be okay, right?” Tom added. I know he’s worried about me. We’ve gone through deployments before—once he was gone for six months—but we’ve never done a year before.

“I’ll be fine,” I assured him. “Now what does the jack look like again?”

A look of panic spread over Tom’s face.

“I’m kidding,” I said quickly.

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

**Posting this early because who knows when Tom will share his laptop again**

I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. I think I’m going to do this every Tuesday now. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.

Hey, It's Okay....


To still not like seafood even though everyone around you keeps insisting that you'll suddenly like it. Tried shrimp again while at the beach and guess what? Still don't like it.


To wonder why people put on full faces of makeup while on the beach. Isn't it going to either A) wash off or B) melt off?


To have wanted to slip my cousin's child, who wasn't allowed to have a s'more, a piece of it. Everyone should be allowed to have a s'more.


To have watched Despicable Me and was the only adult who laughed at the fart humor.


To not mind going to Hooters. Sure I wish I had bigger boobs but eh, if the food is good, I go.


To be amused that Tom is excited about the new Starcraft game coming out. I was all, "Now you know how I feel when a new book comes out!" (I cannot wait for the new Shopaholic book.)


To have been trying to understand how to use the other features of my Nikon camera. It can't stay on Auto forever. My cousin is trying to teach me and was saying something about putting it on manual and to set it to 0 and go from there.


To miss my bed. We return home on Thursday.


To not have been able to watch any Big Brother while here. Is that annoying Rachel still there?


To have eaten 3 Krispy Kremes for breakfast. Hey, there aren't any stores around where I live.


To hope that the house doesn't stink. My mother-in-law is meeting us at the airport when we fly in so she can say goodbye to Tom before he leaves for Korea. I wonder if I can run in and go nuts with the air freshener before she enters?

The Beach Trip

"Tom, watch Tommy. WATCH TOMMY!" I screamed from the shore.

Tommy was with Tom, out in the distance, and the waves looked awfully scary to me from where I stood. Tom, who I know has a habit of zoning out, was standing quite a length apart from Tommy, who was happily splashing in the waves.

"WATCH TOMMY!" I cupped my hands around my mouth and a few beachgoers stared at me probably thinking I was some overprotective mother. And I'm really not. I'm pretty lax but I've read about kids being swept out to sea.

"Mommy, bye," Natalie said and started running out towards her Daddy and brother.

"STOP!" I bellowed, rushing behind her. I almost fell flat on my face.

Natalie did fall flat on her face and I watched in horror as waves crashed on top of her.

"Oh my GOD!" I screeched and ran at lightening speed towards her. I lifted her up and she coughed and spluttered.

"The ocean was mean," Natalie said matter-of-factly, but she wasn't crying.

With Natalie on my hip, I checked on Tom. He was still not close enough to Tommy.

"GET BESIDE TOMMY!" I tried again. "BESSSSIDDDDEEEE TOMMMMMMYYYYY!"

I suppose I could have walked out there but I was worried a wave would crash into us and I'd let go of Natalie.

I waved my free arm around, trying to get Tom's attention.

"MEGAN FOX!" I tried. Usually shouting the name always gets his attention. "Miranda Kerr!"

Nothing.

I thought I saw Tommy go under. Oh no! What would I do? Would my instinct cause me to set Natalie down so I could save Tommy? Or would I just stand there helplessly watching my first born bob around the ocean?

Oh my God.

As though Tom could hear the panic going through my mind, Tom turned around and faced me.

"STAND BY TOMMY!" I screamed.

Tom listened and moved closer to his son, who was okay. "I was pretty close already!" Tom shouted back.

So yeah.

The beach is fun.

But stressful with kids.

Guess What?

At the beach.

My laptop won't pick up an Internet signal. (Cry)

Tom's will! (Yay)

But he won't share his laptop very often. (Boo.)

So I'm not sure how often I'll be on. (Wahhh. Not good for an Internet addict.)

We Don't Travel Well.....

"Look Tom," I said, nudging his arm. "A couple who actually like each other when they travel." I nodded my chin towards a couple who were cuddling and laughing over an article in a magazine.

"God, what's wrong with them?" Tom wondered and we shared a smile.

Here's the thing: we don't travel well together. It's why I know we could never be on The Amazing Race. We'd constantly snap at each other and then articles would be written up saying that we were in an abusive relationship. It's happened to other couples on The Amazing Race where the man or the woman barks at their partner constantly. "Obviously it's an unhappy relationship," bloggers will gossip and I always want to say, "No, they probably just don't travel well together."

Our bickering always starts at airport security. I'll snap at Tom because he's moving too quickly and he'll retort that I need to pick up the pace.

"I'm dealing with two children, you ass," I'll say. I know, I know, name calling is not proper, all the experts will say it and Dr. Phil would most likely faint if he listened into my conversations with Tom while we're at an airport.

Then after airport security he'll sigh as I gather all my things from the conveyer belt. I'm anal and sometimes think that the X-Rays will cause our airplane tickets to disappear so I always have to go through my bag and make sure they're still there. Tom sighs as he stands above me, waiting, and will say something like, "The tickets are there, okay?"

"I'm just checking, don't rush me!"

He also has a habit of walking quickly and I trail behind. Or sometimes it's me who is walking quickly and he's behind.

"It would be nice," Tom said as we walked through the Denver Airport, "if you'd wait up for me."

"No thank you," I'll answer.

When we get to our gate neither of us likes where the other choses to sit. Like I sat down at Denver and Tom blinked at me and went, "This is where we're sitting?"

"No, I just sat here for no reason," I replied.

Another time Tom settled down somewhere and I said, "Can we move closer to our gate?" and Tom went, "No one is stopping you, sweetheart."

By the time we've gotten on the plane we're ready to throttle each other. It drives me crazy how Tom sighs and looks irritated when I ask him to pull something out from his backpack.

"Can I get the DVD player?" I asked him.

"Ugh, fine." He acted as though it were this huge feat to bend down and pull out the DVD player.

Heaven forbid if I ask for something an hour later.

"Did we just DO this?" Tom will grumble and I'll want to throw the airplane peanuts at his bald head.

Lucky for us, we make up by the time we land. One of us will poke the other's arm or leg right before we make it to our destination....this time, as we were about to land in San Antonio, Tom pressed his finger into my arm and made a goofy face and all was well again.

Of course sometimes when we pick up our baggage the bickering starts again.

"What baggage carousel are we?" Tom will ask and I'll shrug and go, "Not sure yet, we have to wait for our flight to come up on the screens," and Tom will take offense that I'm not psychic and I'll call him an inconsiderate prick.

But then by the time we make it to our final destination, all is forgiven again.

We fly back home on the 29th.

Wonder who will snap first?

And tomorrow we get to the beach. No Wifi. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm told you can get a connection in the lobby but who knows how often I can do that with two kids running around.

I'm hoping to be surprised and have Wifi in the room.

Because hi, I'm Amber, and I'm addicted to the Internet.

(Hi Amber.)

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

**I made it to Texas safely and am at my parent's house. We don't leave for the beach until Wednesday so I still have Internet access!**


I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. I think I’m going to do this every Tuesday now. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.

Hey, It's Okay....


To always sit behind the one person on the airplane that wants to recline their seat to the point where their head is practically resting in your lap. It's like, "Hello, my name is Amber, and you are???"


To think that 90 degrees is a nice cool day in Texas after battling triple digit temperatures (this happened last year.....thought I would melt in front of the Alamo.)


To think that the Rachel chick on Big Brother is annoying. What's up with that laugh? She'd have made a fabulous Girl Next Door.


To hope that your husband doesn't accidentally clobber you with his man arm since you share only a full sized bed with him while in Texas.


To have been slightly mortified when your daughter peed on your parent's deck less than an hour after arriving. (I'm trying to keep the fact that my kids like to act like animals at home a secret from my folks....not going well...)


To think Lindsay Lohan needs to go to jail to help wake her up. Otherwise she's probably going to either A) overdose or B) totally lose her mind and stroll around Sunset Bldv in her panties, shouting things like, "I like cheese!" and "Tom Hanks made me do it!"


To love the movie Independence Day. I probably even already wrote this on a past Hey, It's Okay Tuesday but oh well. It's a fabulous movie.


To wonder why the Women's bathroom in the airport smelled like poo. Aren't we supposed to smell like roses? Why does it reek in there? I felt like I was walking into a man bathroom (no offense.) Who are these women who dare to poop in public?


To hope that your DVR is doing what it should be doing and is recording episodes of Big Brother , Army Wives, and Hell's Kitchen. Sometimes the thing acts bitchy and doesn't record what it ought to. One time I was trying to record Grey's Anatomy and it recorded Supernanny instead. It was almost like my DVR was saying, "Lady, you could use some parenting advice over watching a angsty doctor show."

Leaving. Again.

I’m an only child.

And my Dad stayed at home with me while my Mom worked.

Back then (ugh, I feel old when I say that) not many fathers stayed at home. I remember I’d be at school and people would find it odd to know that my Dad was at home with me. I remember thinking it was odd that a mother was home. I just always thought that Dads being home was how it was.

I get to see my parents tomorrow. Mom retired as a Colonel in Texas and they live in a nice home with a backyard that reminds me of a Disney movie. I say this because they’ve trained squirrels to take a peanut from their hands. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Mom also love plants (ironic, since I don’t) and they grow all over the place in her yard.

We’re staying there because we always go to the nearby beach for a mini family reunion. It’s also a way for Tom to say goodbye before he goes.

Have good thoughts that our plane makes it to Texas safely.

And that the kids sleep during the flight so I can read my latest Jennifer Weiner book.

If I don't always get to update my blog, I do update my Facebook. I'm there under Princess543@yahoo.com. Rumor has it that the place we're staying at while at the beach has no Wifi.

Cue scary music.

The Evil Tree

One fine day, some General came on the military base that I live at and declared that base housing had no curb appeal.

This caused people to panic—“oh noes, a General is unhappy!’ and then suddenly it was announced that flowers and trees would be planted in the housing area.

The thing is, I don’t have plants in my yard. Because I kill them. But the base didn’t care. They appeared in everyone’s yards and started planting things, even when people would complain.

Want to know the kicker?

They said if the plants died that we’d have to pay for them.

I might as well write a check now. Because the plants will die. I have a black thumb and plants shrink away from me when they see me coming. I imagine rose bushes having conversations with the daisies—“brace yourself, lad, Amber is coming.”

We weren’t here when our stuff was planted. So when we came home, there were the plants.



Oh, and this sad looking tree.



I hate how they just planted it in our yard. That just gives me something else to have to avoid when I mow. And the tree is sad, something out of a Charlie Brown special. We even called base housing and they were all, “Oh, the antelopes like to chew on them. It’s your job to nurse it back to health.”

“Actually, it’s YOUR job to nurse it back to health because you planted the crappy thing, you twat!” I retorted.

Well. I didn’t really say it. But I thought it.

The tree is stubborn and doesn’t want to return from the brink of death.

Our plants look like they’ve seen better days.

Knowing the military they planted all the cheap will-die-in-a-month stuff anyhow. That way they can be all, “Oh, you owe us for that,” and make some extra cash.

Know something else about the tree?

I keep thinking that it’s a person. I’ll walk past the front door, do a double take and think, “Why is a person just standing in our yard?”

It’s worse at night.

When I walk into our bedroom, the window is right in front of me so I’m constantly thinking, “Who is in our yard? Do I have a stalker?”



Tom is used to my paranoia. So the other night when I went, “Who is that?” he replied without a worry in his voice, “It’s the tree, Amber.”

I hate the tree! I have daydreams about pulling it from the ground and hurling it onto the street with a sign that reads: “Dear Military—don’t want it, but thanks anyway.”

The antelope won’t stop eating it. I had to run out and shoo them away and my neighbors were outside so they probably think I’m an animal hater. I ran out there with my arms waving in the air shrieking, “Step away from the ugly tree!” If PETA saw that they’d probably issue a statement saying something like, “Amber, a blogger, was seen yelling at defenseless antelope who were minding their own business.”

But they weren’t minding their own business. They were chewing up the tree that I didn’t even want. Now it looks like it’s dead and I refuse to pay for something that I didn’t kill.

I hope you’re happy, FE Warren AFB.

Big Ships and Fireworks

“Isn’t the ship amazing?” my husband Tom asked as we headed for the USS North Carolina.

“It’s....big,” I answered as we climbed on board.



My husband loves ships. Especially if they served in World War 2. His eyes were glowing as he took everything in.



It was the fourth of July and we were in Wilmington, North Carolina. Before checking into our hotel we decided to check out the ship. While Tom was admiring the weapons on the ship, I was wondering why people weren’t wearing their red, white, and blue. Tom sort of had red, white, and blue on. He was sporting a Beavis and Butthead shirt. The kids definitely were. It bothered me that I couldn’t bring Natalie’s matching shoes to coordinate better with her outfits but Tom put his foot down and went, “No. One pair is all she needs.”

I snuck in another pair.

He wasn’t pleased to find them.

“What are these?” he had asked, as they tumbled from the suitcase.

“Oh, wow, I guess Natalie threw them in there!” I said, but I’m an awful liar so Tom knew it wasn’t the truth.



The good thing about the ship was that there were a bunch of things to push. I love pushing buttons.



I didn’t even know Tom took this picture. I was too busy pushing buttons. Tom finds this amusing that as a grown adult, I still like messing with things. He didn’t even feel the need to push buttons. What’s wrong with him?



Natalie started pushing buttons. That’s my girl.

Anyhow, after the ship my sister-in-law’s husband was all, “Wanna see the studio where Dawson’s Creek was filmed?” I had to stop myself from shouting, “YES!” Instead I bobbed my head and went, “That would be lovely.”

So...



Here is the building.

It’s not much, is it?

I craned my neck as if I expected to see Katie Holmes before she got kidnapped by Tom Cruise.

I found out later that tours are offered in there and you can see the boat Pacey had and Dawson’s bedroom.

Maybe another time.

I’d probably have to go with someone who liked Dawson’s Creek though. No one who I was with watched it. I tried to explain the show and just got blank looks. Someone thought that it was a gay show because they thought Joey was a man. So..anyone wanna go on a Dawson’s Creek tour with me someday?

We explored the area. I was amused by this street sign.



Wouldn’t it be fun to live on Princess street?

I love Wilmington. I’d live there, if we could afford it.

We checked into our hotel and this was our view:



See those boats? I wish I knew someone with a boat.



We weren’t far from the USS North Carolina.

Later that evening we sat by the pool waiting for the fireworks.



Yes, Natalie is changed. Her fourth of July outfit had a unfortunate accident with a slice of pizza.



The fireworks were shot off from the battleship we were at so we could see them nicely.



Natalie wasn’t totally sure if she liked the fireworks or not.



These people in front of us kept kissing whenever a firework went off. It got to the point where Tom and I were leaning over to each other going, “I wonder if they’re going to kiss...”



And then, we brought two tired kids to bed. Tommy was not happy sharing a bed with his sister.

“She smells,” he argued.

“She does not,” I insisted.

“She’ll hog the covers!”

“She won’t.”

“If she does, just take them back, you’re bigger,” Tom, ever the solution man, said.

In the end they slept well.

And I went to sleep dreaming about knowing someone who owned a boat.

Back In North Carolina....

So.

Back to when we were in North Carolina.



While we were there we went to a museum full of tanks, guns, airplanes, etc.....basically a man’s dream.



This was in a pretend airplane and Natalie is clearly thinking, “Where the eff am I?” And yes, those would be my nieces.



Tom took tons of pictures of all the weapons. I’ll spare you and just post this one.

He was practically salivating against the glass and muttered something like, “I miss my weapon.” Since he’s been on leave he hasn’t been able to carry a gun around like he did at work.



Now it’s Tommy’s turn to be like, “Where the eff am I?”



This is some airplane jeep thing. Tom took multiple photos of it. I think the thing was turning him on or something.



Tom is smiling so he’s definitely loving the museum.



Natalie is pissed because she wanted to go in the helicopter. She didn’t understand the words “display” and “go to jail if you messed with it.”



Tommy hanging out with his cousin.

After the museum we went back to Tom’s sister’s house to celebrate my niece’s birthday. She was turning 8.



There was a Spongebob piñata and Natalie took the stick and charged at it. Ahh yes, she’s my little jouster.



Anyhow, her Aunt had to explain that no, we aren’t meant to spear Spongebob but smack the crap out of him.

The older kids understood:









With the tweens, Tom would lift Spongebob up as they swung. He found this hilarious when they’d swing and hit the air.

When Spongebob was eventually smacked open, it freaked Natalie out. She had no problems smacking the thing but when she saw him all torn up with candy spilling from him, she was concerned.

“What happened to Spongebob?” she kept asking. “Will he be okay?”

I shielded her eyes as the tween girls took the stick and continued to smash the crap out of the thing.

“He’ll be great,” I lied and distracted her with some of the candy. I don’t think we’ll be getting a piñata at her party.

Then it came time to open presents and let me tell you, I had no idea what to get an eight-year-old girl. Eight-year-old boys I know. Girls? Not so much. My girl is still into Barbies and creepy Yo Gabba Gabba. I guessed when I bought her gift. And...



....I guessed right because she had been wanting an iDog. Score one for the Aunt!

--------------

Also, Andrea of Las Vegas Mama asked me to guest blog here.

I'm sort of jealous that she lives in Las Vegas. Although I've never actually been. But from the stories I hear, it's a ball of fun.

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. I think I’m going to do this every Tuesday now. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.

Hey, It's Okay....



To not have cared where Lebron James was going to next.


To wonder how the girls who stand in the front row at Zumba class do not look winded by the end of the hour. Aren’t they tired? Are they human?


To watch Big Brother and root for the under dog. IE not the girl who looks like Barbie or the guy who looks like Ken.


To wish I knew a psychic octopus. I’d ask it things like, “Will I ever get a book published, will Natalie ever use the potty, and will Kate Gosselin ever go away?”


To order the waffle bowl with sprinkles at Coldstone—for yourself.


To wonder what in the hell happened to Mel Gibson. He voiced a Disney character for craps sake! He was William Wallace! I used to love him. And now? Not so much.


To wish I could just stretch out on the sand and read when I go to the beach. But with young kids, it’s out of the question. Oh well. Maybe ten years from now…


To think that the Target 75% off toy sale will occur while I’m visiting my family—will they think I’m nuts if I ask for a detour to Target?


To have loved the new Campfire Blast from Sonic—it’s like a s’more in a cup.


To love when your husband surprises you with a sweet card. He’s been...more romantic lately and I think it’s because his departure to Korea is drawing closer and closer...I’ll take it though.

Fried Green Tomatoes

The truth is, I’ve always wanted to try fried green tomatoes ever since I saw them depicted in the movie by the same name. I figured my best bet was to try them while in North Carolina because I heard a rumor that they like to fry everything in those parts.

I wasn’t sure if I’d get a chance though.

After I got off the plane that took me to North Carolina, I wasn’t sure what the plans were. I just knew that Tom would be waiting with the kids and my mother-in-law. My backpack was digging into my shoulders so I couldn’t move as quickly as I usually did. I called Tom to let him know that I landed and that I’d make my way out to baggage claim eventually.

“Okay,” was all Tom said. Even though we hadn’t seen each other in two days he didn’t seem very moved to hear from me. But that’s Tom. He’s never been full of emotion.

I stepped on an escalator that would take me to baggage claim and that’s when I saw them.

“Mommy!” Natalie yelped and slid from her seat. She ran over to me, arms outstretched. I bent down to pick her up and the movement made my backpack yank me back so I sort of flailed in place while my daughter grasped hold of my arm. “Mommy!” she said again. My heart swelled. I had missed her. And I was pleased to see that she was well coordinated in her outfit. Tom had paid attention when I had told him what to dress her in.

I gave my mother-in-law a hug—I’m lucky and get along with my mother-in-law. I hear horror stories about mother-in-laws being, well, bitchy, and I’m grateful that I don’t have one of those. Then I gave Tommy a hug, who had reluctantly stood up from his chair. He didn’t seem overly thrilled to see me. Of course his father didn’t either. I expected him to take me in his arms but no, he just plucked the backpack off my back and started leading the way to the car.

Okay then. Nice to see you again, too. But really, taking my backpack is a sign that he loves me. He could see it was weighing me down and he wordlessly took it.

“Mommy, are you back?” Natalie asked as she plopped down in her stroller. Yes, at three she still sits in an umbrella stroller for our sanity. She can walk, of course, but she trails behind and takes one step, pauses, takes another, pauses. So the stroller is a necessity so we don’t lose our patience.

“I’m back,” I confirmed, ruffling Tommy’s hair.

“I got a weather book,” Tommy offered. “Grandma bought it for me and I’m learning about tornadoes and hurricanes.” Tommy’s latest obsession is about weather.

We settled into the car—I was in the middle between the kids, but thankfully my ass hasn’t expanded too much so I was able to sit comfortably. Tommy showed me his book and Natalie showed me her book—a creepy Yo Gabba Gabba one, naturally. I noticed up front that Tom and his Mom were passing back and a forth a map. I tried to crane my neck to see where it led to but I couldn’t.

Off we drove to the unknown place and then we finally parked in front of a building that looked as though it had seen better days.

“Is this it?” Tom asked, checking the map. He can find anything whereas I get myself lost in a daily basis.

“It should be,” Tom’s Mom confirmed. She frowned at the building.

It did look run down. But when I took in the sign, I knew where Tom had taken me. The Pit a restaurant that had been featured on that Man VS Food show. I remembered telling Tom that I wanted to go there since I saw that they had fried green tomatoes.

And Tom had taken me there.

The place doesn’t look like much on the outside but as soon as we stepped inside, our opinions changed. It was spacious and clean and the smell wafting from the kitchen made my mouth water.

We were shown to a table and handed a menu. My eyes zeroed in on the fried green tomatoes immediately. I placed an order for them and when they came out, I immediately took one and had a bite.....



....they weren’t the best thing I’ve ever tasted before. But a few people have told me that fried green tomatoes are best homemade.

Still, I ate two of them, and offered one to everyone else.

Tom passed, naturally.

But Tommy liked them.

Natalie.....



.....did not.

“I don’t yike dis this thing, Mommy,” she informed me seriously.

For my main dish I ordered the brisket. I love brisket.



I was amused when my food came with two hushpuppies.

“Now we know we’re in the south,” Tom’s Mom said, winking.

So true. And the hushpuppies rocked.

I love Southern food and would eat it all the time if my thighs would let me.

Like A Melted Reeses Peanut Butter Cup...

The Melting Pot.

I know I gush about it a lot.

But I can’t help it.

The place is amazing.

So I was glad when I got to eat there when I was visiting my best friend Jennifer. We got to go alone, no kids, and it was fantastic.

I would not bring kids to The Melting Pot. For starters, there is a gigantic burner in the middle of the table. And plus, the place just doesn’t scream children. It screams quiet drinky time for adults.

Or maybe just quiet time if you don’t drink.

Jennifer and I ordered a drink though. I had been curious on what some of them tasted like.





I can’t remember what Jennifer ordered but I got some berry mojito that tasted strongly of vodka. I could barely drink it all. I prefer the sweet drinks, I admit that. I’ve never been one for doing shots.

Our first course came. The cheese. We had a male waiter and come to think of it, whenever I go to The Melting Pot I’ve usually always had a guy. He was polite and asked us the usual question as he mixed up our cheese: what did we do, what brought us in here (“the cheese! The chocolate!” I answered), and were we married (“why, you interested? I could use a guy friend who knows how to make cheese fondue.”)





We had our meat and veggie course next and Jennifer decided to try a mushroom just to make sure she still didn’t like them.





She still doesn’t like mushrooms.

I decided to play with my mushroom. (I don’t like them either. Weirdly, my husband, who is incredibly picky likes mushrooms. He’ll eat fungus, but not pot roast.)





And then came the best part.

The chocolate course!







We got the chocolate peanut butter one. It was like a giant melted Reeses Peanut Butter cup. In short? Heaven.

It was Jennifer’s first time at The Melting Pot.

Did she approve?



Why, yes she did!

Stan the Submarine Man

So let me go back to last week when I first arrived at my best friend Jennifer’s house. Jennifer, for those who don’t know, lived across the street from me for three years while we were stationed in England. She was the first girl I got drunk with and that’s how I learned that I’m a very chatty drunk.

Guess what Jennifer had waiting for me at her house?



She knows me well. She knows that I love A) giant cookies and B) lots of frosting. And true, it wasn’t really my birthday but she was celebrating it a week later since she couldn’t be with me on my real birthday.

We went out to The Cheesecake Factory that night and let me tell you, The Cheesecake Factory has a lot to offer. First they give you a book as a menu. I’m not kidding. It’s pages and pages of delicious food. You hardly know where to begin.



I ended up getting the white chili because I love white chili and can’t make it a lot at home because Tom says white chili tastes funky. The white chili at The Cheesecake Factory, I’m proud to say, does not taste funky.

We also ordered dessert because you can’t go to The Cheesecake Factory and NOT order dessert. It’s like, against the law or something.

I got the strawberry shortcake.



And it was amazing.

Then the next day we went to a museum where there was a Titanic exhibit set up. Of course I had to see that. I’ve always been interested in the Titanic, even before the movie came out. Granted, when the movie came out I saw it like 7 times. That’s like nearly an entire day gone from my life because I had to sit and watch Leonardo Dicaprio scream, “I’m the king of the world!” I blame it on my age. I was like 16 when the movie came out so I didn’t know any better. This is why I forgive the teens who go to see those Twilight movies over and over again. I want to say, “It’s okay, you’ll grow out of it,” because if they don’t, they’ll end up like the Crazy Twilight Lady who lives on my street. No matter that she’s in her 30s and goes on and on about Taylor Lautner’s abs. Because that’s totally not disturbing.

Anyhow, no photos were allowed in the exhibit. But we did get these photos:





It was amazing to see all the artifacts that they found.

After that we got to see the rest of the museum.

I became an alien:





And Jennifer got on the news. Some shark wouldn’t piss off and leave her alone.

Then there was a space section and I got totally inappropriate and pretended I was taking a giant poo on the space toilet they had set up.



I sure set an example for children, let me tell you.

I’m sure the parents in there loved me.

Jennifer and her family went off to space.



And then they came back and we played in the water section of the museum.





While they were playing with the water, I found a new boyfriend.



His name is Stan the Submarine Man.

Handsome, no?

I love his arms and the way the yellow in his suit brings out his eyes.