Grimey Augusta

So here I am in lovely Augusta, Georgia once again. Last time I was here I drove past a lot with thousands of cement lawn ornaments for sale and it intrigued me, but it was a little too close to the van with the pit bull for me to stop at the evening hour I passed it. So I set out in the bright day light to check it out today.

Imagine a lot half an acre long and at least 50 feet deep jammed packed of cement lawn ornaments. There were thousands. Easily. I started browsing along the front and I came upon the owner of this lot. Based on the warning sign posted out front, I'm assuming this was Mr. Grimes. Mr. Grimes was black guy who was approximately 190 years old.

Immediately he starts in on my tattoos. He was really hard to understand. I think his ignorance was catching his tongue. What I gathered was he wasn't a fan of the tattoos. So I kindly excused myself and kept browsing. I had gotten to the end of the piles of lawn ornaments and started to walk into an inner chamber of lawn ornaments when I hear Mr. Grimes yelling, "HEY GIRL HEY GIRL!" So I popped my head out.

He was all worked up into a tizzy, shaking his cane at me, shouting at me to come out of there at once; he didn't want me taking any pictures in there. Because, "if you're taking damn pictures in there you ain't gonna buy nothing."  

This didn't really seem very hospitable, or a sound way to treat a potential customer. I made my decision to leave then (even though I had seen a stone gargoyle that I really wanted). Good ol' Grimey decided to make my decision to leave concrete (ha ha, pun intended). As I'm walking past him he says, "If you're back there you're gonna steal."

Steal? Steal a 50lb lawn ornament?

He says to the back of my head, "Look at all those damn tattoos. It's a shame you did that to yourself. What the Hell kind of job can you have looking like that?"

Well, Grimey, I proudly work in the United States Army. Of course he didn't deserve that answer. I said nothing to him. As I left I took a picture of his lot out of the window of my car. Just to spite him. What an ignorant jerk.

My Boy

Look into his lovely little face and tell me you don't want him.

Army Medicine At Its Best

The skinny of the situation is that I'm having a surgery that the Army is going to preform. It seems my back has just had enough of my large breasts and it's time to downsize for the sake of my 2 mile run. Now that we have the facts out of the way...

My plastic surgeon is at Fort Gordon. I drove 7 hours to Augusta, Georgia yesterday in anticipation of my first appointment with my doctor.

Let me tell you about Augusta. Augusta is sketchy. Or, at least, the parts I saw were sketchy. I went on a search for food and ended up in the wrong neighborhood. I turned around at a gas station to right my wrong turns. There was a van parked with items for sale scattered around it. These items were spandex pants in a multitude of colors, all displayed on half manikins. A nursing mother pit bull wandered over to my car and stared at me like she was willing me to buy these pants. I got out of there asap.

I hid at the hotel until it was time for my appointment this morning. I showed up 20 minutes early-- like a good Soldier. And what good did it do me? The receptionist told me the doctor was on leave and my appointment had been rescheduled for next Wednesday, and hadn't anyone told me?

WTF.

No, no one had told me. Why the Hell else would I have driven 7 hours to hear it from your mouth if someone had told me!? It certainly wasn't for the ambiance of Augusta!!

So I drove home. Another 7 hours. And I get to do this again next week. Ugh. Yay Army medicine!

Fortune?

I'm not sure how I'm supposed to take this as a fortune....

This is a if a tree falls in the forest kind of situation.

March Came In Like A Lion

So while all these tornadoes were ripping through central Tennessee last week, I was in the field. Range Control issued a tornado watch to Fort Campbell and left it to the "Commander's discretion" if we were going to retreat back to post where we would be safer. Well, Commander's have too much discretion sometimes and my Commander's discretion was to sit tight and wait for the weather to pass.

I survived the Tornado Field Exercise of 2012!

Once the weather quit storming on us (no tornadoes touched down on our range, by the way) we were able to commence training and make the best of our 3 day & 2 night fun filled field exercise.

The first fun thing we did was fill in tire tracks in the mud by hand:

 Then we ate MREs. And we definitely leaned the cooker pouch on "a rock or something":

 Then we took naps because the sun was out and it made us sleepy:

And finally, I found the prettiest patch of wild daffodils way on the other side of the range. Spring is here at Fort Campbell, and it came in like a lion.

St. Louis-- Day #3

The newly engaged couple's first outing was officially today at the St. Louis Zoo. Although it's beautiful weather at Fort Campbell this February, it is cold in St. Louis. Me being the genius I am, I didn't really bring anything warm to wear, so I was reduced to whatever warm items I had in the trunk of my car. Which means, all I had was Army stuff. Wearing Army stuff mixed with civilian clothes is a big no-no. Not only because it's a no-no, but because you look like a big douche. I had to be a big douche for survival reason. I wore my waffle top to stay warm. You wouldn't know it was Army issue unless you were in the Army. As a civilian, you'd think it was just an awful sweater.

 

Now significantly warmer, James and I were able to wander the zoo. Not only did I think it was cold, all the damn animals thought it was too cold as well. Almost every exhibit was empty because they were huddled in their indoor enclosures out of sight. What a bunch of assholes!

The only active animals we saw were a manically pacing bear:

And a stinky room full of penguins:

Maybe we'll go back to the St. Louis Zoo when the weather is more appealing to the animals. And hopefully I'll be dressed more fashionably and without a spattering of issued Army clothing on.

Surprise Dinner

On Friday night, James told me he had a special surprise for me for dinner. He took me on a magical ride through the most ghetto hood of St. Louis en route to dinner. I was a little concerned my surprise was going to be a drive by shooting.

We arrived at the Bissell Mansion. It took me approximately 1 minute upon entering the mansion before I figured out what the real surprise was-- he took me to murder mystery dinner theater. I've always wanted to do that! I kick so much ass at Clue. I was very very excited.

The theme to the show took place during prohibition. My part was a gal called Rita the Rat. She was a police informant and a gossip. James' part was a guy called Red Herring. He was a suspect in a previous murder and ran a fish flavored coffee business (gross, right!?).  Dinner was so much fun. The two professional actors that kept the story running and on track were funny and had a lot of working chemistry.

In act 4, just before we were all supposed to guess who the murderer was, one of the actors called Red Herring front and center. He was told he was suddenly a prime suspect. Then the actor called my role, Rita the Rat, forward and he asked me if Red Herring went to jail, would I stay with him? I shrugged, and said yes. And as I turned my attention back to Red Herring, he was down on one knee with a little velvet box in his hand.

Every one in at the dinner theater went nuts! And all I could do was cover my mouth and stand there! I was so shocked and happy-- and surprised. That was the real real surprise!

I said, yes, of course.

James really out did himself. I'm a really lucky girl to have such a creative and wonderful fiance. We're getting married!! :) XOXO

St. Louis-- Day #2

The Budweiser Brewery was on our list of things to do while we were visiting St. Louis. So we went ahead and knocked that out first. Unfortunately, getting to the brewery turned out to be quite the challenge, since unbeknown to us, St. Louis throws the 2nd biggest Mardi Gras in the country every year. Second only to the OG Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Duh.

Drunk people were everywhere, and it seemed like all roads leading to the brewery were closed. We snaked our way through downtown, with eyes on the brewery, just barely out of reach, for over 20 minutes.

The Budweiser tour was pretty cool. I remember going on it when I was a kid with my parents. And I actually remembered it quite vividly, amazingly enough. I think it was because of the horses. Or maybe it was a premonition for my love of beer as an adult.

At the end of the tour you get 2 free beers. Bonus!

And in case you were wondering, we didn't go party at the huge Mardi Gras festival. We had intentions to, but we heard from some folks that all the bars were closing around 9pm because there were too many wasted people on the streets. I bet the real Mardi Gras doesn't do that. Way to stay #2, St. Louis.

St. Louis-- Day #1

James and I went on a little vacation to St. Louis. Approximately 4 hours away, we decided to just get away for a long weekend.

I had made our hotel reservations in advance, and since the last time I was in St. Louis I was like 8, I didn't have a good feel for the area. I chose the Sheraton in a suburb. It was significantly cheaper. I figured James and I are pretty tough, so if we ended up in a crappy neighborhood, we'd be able to take care of ourselves.

Well, the suburb the hotel is in is Clayton, Missouri. Which happens to be the nicest, most ritzy suburb of St. Louis. Clearly, James and I looked like a couple of hobos when we checked in-- amplified with tattoos a blazin'.

It was later in the day when we checked in, so we set off on foot to find something to eat for dinner. We had found a restaurant online, but forgot what it was called while we were walking, so the first place we saw, we went in to. We should have known we were in the wrong spot when a valet opened the door for us and a maitre d seated us. Further more, the first question the waitress asked me was, "What kind of water would you like?" There is more than one type of water!?

James and I were not the right kind of customer for Morton's... clearly. But we stayed. We had wonderful (and EXPENSIVE) meal. But most importantly, James made Morton's his bitch by eating a 26oz porterhouse steak in a restaurant fit for celebrities in less than 15 minutes while wearing a beanie.

We walked to a pub down the road after dinner in search of a place that we fit in. We never really found that place, but there was a bar with beer on draft, so we settled for that. The place was full of men in suits, and ladies in pencil skirts. So formal for a so-called Irish Pub. We were drunk and merry. And had way more fun than those stuck up young private college folks.

Watch out, Clayton, Missouri. James and Jackie are here!

New Stuff Makes Me Happy

We bought a new couch with my Iowa income tax return. Material things shouldn't make me so happy, but they do. I'm honest-- so sue me!! Love the new couch! Thanks, Iowa! XOXO