Too Much of a Good Thing

Those who know me understand that I do a lot of picking at this small town for it's lack of, well, everything. Shopping, culture, food, you name it. I talk about how I would love to live somewhere that had, at the very least, a Macy's. Maybe an Olive Garden, too.

About an hour and a half/forty five minutes away we have Raleigh. We have been to several shows there (Jeff Dunham, Stomp, Shakespeare In The Park), and there is a Macaroni Grill that we enjoy. Even one of Eric's fast food favorites, Chipoltle. It is the perfect size city for my liking. Traffic isn't bad. There is also a GREAT spa called the Umstead (where I could EASILY spend the rest of my natural life). But as I said earlier, it is well over an hour away and not the kind of place you can go to during the week on a whim. Well, unless you are one of those people who can function regularly on 4 hours of sleep a night. Clearly I am not, nor have I ever been, one of those people.

This past week I was in Minnesota. I stayed in Saint Paul. I loved it there. One of the attractions in the Twin Cities area is the Mall of America in Minneapolis. I hopped the crosstown bus from downtown St Paul and went to the Mall of America with great excitement. Talk about everything I could ever want! A mall that had every store I could possibly want to shop in, restaurants that I love, and, get this...a ROLLER COASTER in the mall! I love roller coasters.

I walk into this mall and am quickly overwhelmed with everything that is happening around me. It was loud and hurried, and busy, and there wasn't just A roller coaster; there were 3. And a log flume. And a bunch of other stuff that made this place like an amusement park on crack.

I couldn't deal with it. 30 minutes. That was all I stayed for. I would have left sooner but I walked around for about 10 min, got lost immediately, and spent the next 20 minutes trying to find where the hell I came in. As I am beating feet for the next bus to downtown Saint Paul, I am asking myself over and over again, what the hell my problem is? I don't understand why this wasn't turning out to be a great thing. This was everything I asked for ten-fold!

That, I concluded, was the problem. I am all about small, controlled doses. This was complete retail/entertainment/roller coaster overload. *sigh*

So I am back in Goldsboro, NC. CLEARLY other extreme. But better for a person like me to be underwhelmed than overwhelmed. WAY better.

Time off

I have been off of work for a little over three weeks now. I don't think I have ever been off for this many days in a row. In my life. Not even after surgery.

The first two weeks were filled with the wedding and honeymoon and the third week was just, well, time off. Going into this current week it has been more of the same.

I decided to use this week to drive down to Florida and visit with my sister and my aunt (who had some unexpected surgery and was unable to make it to the wedding) and it has been great. South Florida rules. Always has.

The things that I have enjoyed about these past two weeks are sort of surprising to me. Never much of a girly-girl, things like accessorizing have never held much appeal to me. Well, about two days before our honeymoon I bought a new purse. One of those "The Sak" purses in a neutral color to take with me on the honeymoon. It seems to have started there.

Next thing I know, I am wearing skirts, heels, necklaces, rings, sun hats, and LOVING it. The idea of going back to work and going back to that boring-ass black purse that I am forced to carry in the military actually makes me pout a little bit. I have really gotten used to my new purse and my palm tree necklace. And my pretty double Swarovski crystal rings in pink and white that match one of my new tops and skirts perfectly. See that? Who the hell just wrote that last sentence??

I knew that I didn't take enough time off after my deployment. I did that because I knew that I was going to be taking close to a month off for my wedding/honeymoon. I think perhaps that the deployment changed me. Some good ways, some not so good. But I like this new side of me.

I also know that once I go back to reality that not only am I not allowed to keep this up, but I won't have any desire to keep it up. It isn't worth coming home from a 10+ hour day to put on accessories and change purses for what amounts to an hour or two of free time in the evening before I have to go to bed.

I only hope that when I retire, perhaps I will remember this short time frame where I was able to discover a new side of me that I really like and feel comfortable being, and will still have the desire to try.

Bridal pictures

Psyche!!!! No pictures for you! Well, not yet at least.

However, this past Tuesday we did my bridal pictures. Doing pictures of just the bride serves a couple of useful purposes. First, it reduces the total amount of time spent taking pictures on the day of the wedding. This is important because it means Eric and I will get to the reception, and by default, the food, faster. Second, it gives the bride an opportunity to do a full-dress dry run. Taking the pictures helped me get used to putting on and taking off the dress. I got to know how the dress worked, how the crinoline and bustier worked, and most importantly, how the dress worked on my body. I was actually afraid of the dress until this past Tuesday. Handling it with kid gloves, etc. However, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that as a heavy silk/satin gown, it can really take a beating!

Believe you me, it was tested on several levels. My photographer, Chad, is a very talented artist. He took us (and by "us" I mean Holly and myself. Holly did my hair for me and helped me in and out of the dress, in and out of different locations, and was a generally supportive human being!), all over the place for these pictures. We were in front of an old church, in a wheat field, at his studio, and on the street in the little town of LaGrange, NC.

While we were shooting in the wheat field, I was standing there in the middle of the wheat, actually enjoying myself and the breeze, as he took shot after shot. At the end of the shoot, Holly and I began the task of gathering up my dress to avoid having it drag on the ground. When we get the dress up, I look down and what do I see? A spider the size of Texas is running up my dress between the layers of tulle. Well...

Anyone who knows me, knows that one of my two fears on this planet is spiders (the other is water). Apparently neither Holly nor Chad (the photographer) liked spiders either because the next thing I know Holly drops her end of the dress and is a quarter mile down the road, I am in an absolute panic yelling at Chad who was the only one of the three of us with a penis to get the fucking spider off my dress while jumping up and down in heels in the middle of this wheat field.

I finally jump up and down enough for the spider to lose it's grip on the tulle and fall out onto the sheet I was standing on to protect the dress. Chad and I were trying to kill it as it is attempting to jump back up onto my dress. Chad finally shows this spider an untimely death and I am jumping through this wheat field with my dress practically over my head trying to make it back to the car.

I have since seen the pictures, and they are absolutely amazing. But make no mistake...I was about 1 more minute from dropping trou right there in the wheat field and turning my dress over to the spider. I would have had no problem just buying another dress if I had to.

Family!

This weekend, Eric and I went up to Philadelphia, PA for the Bar Mitzvah of my cousin Miles. It was the first time seeing my family since coming back from deployment. I was anticipating this trip with such excitement that I lost sleep. And the end result didn't disappoint!

After a rough start to the drive in the form of a knocking engine/check engine light at the border of Virgina, having to turn around, go back home, get another car, and start the trip over again, (my reaction to this was less than stellar and I am shocked that Eric still wants to marry me) we were finally under way.

I found that I was unreasonably on edge for the first 24 hours. I am sure the faulty engine in my Audi didn't help, but I really believe the culprit was some weird just-getting-back-from-deployment thing that I can't quite put my finger on. I consciously worked on it and I managed to get almost back to myself. (Have I mentioned how amazing, patient and wonderful Eric is?)

The Bar Mitzvah itself was a wonderful, traditional Jewish ceremony at the temple (to the tune of 3 hours), and Miles, at the ripe old age of 13, was a true charmer to watch as he read from the Torah. He has a smile that could melt ice sculptures! You couldn't help but smile right along with him.

The party afterwards was in true Davidow Bar mitzvah style. Lots of food, entertainment, drinks, dancing, and HUGE family hugs! Seeing my cousins and my Aunt Pearl was just magnificent. Seeing my brother Chuck, however, was just fantastic. I can't quite put my finger on what exactly it was that took me on such a roller coaster emotionally, but it was a great ride.

The weekend was way too short to say the least and I found myself wishing we all had more time together to just sit and talk with no obligations or places to be. I have to make an effort to make that happen. Not just with Chuck, but with my cousins, sister, aunt, every one. Take a weekend that doesn't involve some grand family event and just make it about catching up.

My words can't do this weekend justice. So hopefully the pictures I am going to attempt to attach here will help give it some color!

A post-deployment...well...post.

I am two weeks post deployment. I suppose the first thing I need to put out there is just how quickly things begin to disappear from your memory when you come back from deployment. Places I went, names of cities, and most disturbingly the names of people I worked with and lived with day in and day out for months on end have already begun their exodus from my memory bank. I suppose if memories were FDIC insured I wouldn't have to worry about writing all this down now. But alas they aren't.

Fortunately for me, I had the foresight to realize that things were going on that I knew I would want to remember or at least SHOULD remember, and I kept a journal. The journal is made up mostly of my in-the-moment rants. I actually haven't even read though all of them.

I was pretty fortunate in that I wasn't involved in any IEDs or other such traumatic events.

Pakistan however, is a dangerous place and being on edge and hypersensitive to your surroundings in order to avoid being blown up, shot at or otherwise attacked, takes it's toll. On that note, I have simply taken one of my journal entries and am using at as my blog.

Day 38: As I was walking outside to the guards to share with them my bounty from the care packages I received today, my routine thought process began. These thoughts cross my mind every day. Our guards are paid to protect us 24 hours a day.

I smile and greet them in Urdu. They smile back and eagerly reach out their hands to receive my meager armful of snacks and cookies from back home. It's a lot to them. They think my attempt at Urdu is cute. They love the American snacks of chocolates and chips. It makes me happy to give it to them. I know they are chilly and can get very cold at night. They have a thankless job and, much like our SF personnel at home, I like to show them some appreciation. I am empathetic towards those who work long, difficult hours. Always have been. It is in my nature. This leopard will not likely change her spots at this late stage.

They are armed to the teeth. Even so, they would be the first to die in a suicide bomb attack of our residence. I tend to think the best of people. I tend to feel safe. Safer than I should. There is not a single one of them who wouldn't turn around and kill me for the right price. Who wouldn't sell me, or any one of my colleagues out, for a week's salary. I, especially, probably offend them. What with my English tongue, the audacity to go out in public sans headscarf, and my driving. Not only do I drive, but I drive alone. A woman should only be in the back seat of a vehicle. A vehicle is driven only by a man. My every day actions are an insult to their entire way of life. I don't go about day to day with a goal of insulting my host nation's people. I have a job to do. As I turn and walk away after delivering the goodies, I wonder if today is the day I will hear the shot and feel the bullet in my back?

"Best Hamburger" my ass.

In yet another glaring display of the public's sheep mentality, just because a bunch of people jump on the bandwagon of someone who says something is "great" or "the best", does NOT make it so. Tonight we went to a place called "Five Guys" burgers and I walked away extremely disappointed.

I had heard great comments from several people about how wonderful the hamburgers are at Five Guys. I even read a review (or two) that Five Guys was voted "Best Hamburger" in North Carolina. Needless to say, hopes were high.

In all fairness, I feel obligated at this point to share the start of my love-affair with a good quality hamburger. I like to compare burgers to a benchmark that was set for me years ago when I went to my first Fudruckers. I remember it like it was yesterday...1989, I walked into Fudruckers in West Palm Beach with my father, my Aunt Pearl, and my Uncle Dan. We go up to the counter and my uncle Dan promptly orders the "motherfucker" without so much as an apology (may he rest in peace), I order a burger exactly how I wanted it. Rare with mushrooms and nothing else. Always a sign of a great burger place. Being able to order it the temperature you want it. Means they use good quality meat. Did you know that? It's why you can't order a burger from McDonalds medium rare. They use barely-legal meat in their burgers. Cook 'em less than well done and you end up with lysteria or something else that I can't spell. I get my burger and it was amazing. Juicy, high quality meat without those little hard rubbery pieces floating around in it (you know what I am talking about..those little pieces that scream lousy meat pieces and fillers), fantastic hand mushrooms all seasoned to perfection and placed on a baked fresh bun that practically melted in your mouth.

So obviously with all the hype that preceded our visit today, at the very least I assumed that I could order the burger medium rare. We walk in and the first thing we see when we arrive at the counter is "We cook all our burgers to a juicy well-done". Another glaring example of saying something that just isn't true. It isn't actually possible to cook any piece of meat to "well-done" and still be "juicy". At that point I was ready to walk away. That sign screamed that their meat quality was lousy and I was too hungry to waste my money on something that I already knew was going to suck. But we stayed anyway. Perhaps I would be pleasantly surprised? We order our burgers and wait for the outcome.

Sure enough, this burger comes and I must say, the only thing that separated it from a hockey puck was the fact that it was nestled in a bun. One bite and I realized that McDonalds was actually better than this poor excuse for a hamburger. Little hard rubbery pieces scattered throughout the meat. Zero flavor. And, of course, zero juice. I was famished however and ate about 5 bites of the burger. Then I gave up the ghost. I left. Hungry.

I have not looked up the corporate or franchise history of Five Guys hamburgers but I cannot imagine these five guys would have become so monumentally successful cooking burgers like what I had tonight. Perhaps the nanny-state time we live in prevents them from serving anything that is cooked at a cooler temperature than well-done. Since no self-respecting meat-loving carnivore would ever cook their meat well-done, why would you waste high quality meat in a dish you were forced to cook well-done? At least that I what I hope happened here.

Either way, I am going on my own record to declare that I would never recommend getting a hamburger at Five Guys. Save your 5 bucks and get 5 burgers of the same lousy quality for the same price at McDonalds.

Things I will and wont miss from deployment

Things I will NOT miss from deployment:

1. Being cold
2. Not having hot water
3. Sporadically having NO water
4. Not being able to go outside for a simple walk
5. Being hungry. Mostly on Sundays.
6. The fear and unknown of being on the roads (terrorists, IEDs, shootings, and idiots who shouldn't be allowed out of their houses at all let alone to operate anything with a motor)
7. The smell. This place smells like a cesspool.
8. The lack of value placed on human life (The It's-ok-if-my-kid-falls-off-my-motorbike-and-dies,-I-have-another-one attitude)
9. Missing home.
10. Pakistani Parasites (I saved this one for last because there was a slight yet significant upside of weight loss that accompanies them).

Things I WILL miss from deployment:

1. The look of the Himalayan foothills after a rain
2. Wearing civilian clothes every day
3. Seeing the occasional monkey hop across the road (yes, I have grown fond of the monkeys)
4. The people I have worked with. Every one of them a true character
5. Working for Special Operations Command.

I was hoping to come up with 10 things I will miss. Not happening. Perhaps later on once I have gotten some time and distance away from here I will be able to think of more. If I do, I will update my list!