My brother is a Marine.

It’s been weeks since I have written, dear readers! But I must say I have been extremely busy. First of all, I was preparing to OFFICIALLY move into my apartment four hours away from home. Secondly, and more importantly, I was getting ready for my older brother’s (Jake’s) graduation from Marine recruit training (they don’t really call it “boot camp”).

^^^ This is what my brother would endure for almost four months.

Ever since I was a little girl, I always had this hunch that Jake was going to be some kind of hero; his future career would most undoubtedly involve carrying a gun. His favorite activities as a child always had to do with Nerf guns, building forts, and planning our defense against the onslaught of an enemy. When he was 18, I believe, he actually attempted running away to join the Army. My father caught wind of this, jumped in the car, and sped up the road to catch Jake, preventing him from following through with his escape.

^^^ This is how Jake had me dressed as a little girl…when he wasn’t teaching me how to play football.

My parents were always very apprehensive when it came to Jake’s desire for joining the armed forces. They were extremely worried for his well-being, understandably so, but to a point where they essentially held him back from pursuing this dream. He went to college for a few years but nothing came of it; it wasn’t for him. Jake worked several dead-end jobs after he dropped the college idea. He struggled to pay the bills, to feed himself, and lead the life he had always imagined for himself. As hard as he worked, I daresay he reaped what he sowed, if he reaped anything at all.

Finally, the time came again. Apparently Jake was helping my Dad around the house (the garage, specifically) when he brought up his plan to join the armed forces. His stand was basically, “I am 24. I don’t have a good job. So I have decided to join the Marines, like it or not.” My Dad’s response? “Ok.” So my parents backed him 110%. All of this was going on while I was away in China and by the time I got back, Jake had already left for recruit training.

While he was away, we received a letter almost every day; he was of course not allowed phone or internet access so each letter could be likened to a lump of gold. Here’s a story: My mother made a habit of coming home on her lunch breaks just so she could check the mail. I was randomly home one afternoon as she rushed in with a pile of stuffed envelopes. All other mail was immediately dropped, including one envelope from my University. She tossed it at me as she ripped open Jakes latest update. I looked at her in amusement, “Mom. That’s my Dean’s List letter.” We chuckled as she responded, “Well see, you have to quit doing so well and maybe next time you get one, it’ll be more special!” And although she has a point that I am pretty consistent, I still beam with pride every time I get that letter…like a little girl on Christmas morning.

^^^ I feel your pain.

So the letters kept piling in and out of the house. The whole family was worked up and ready for the end of the summer, when Jake would be released to us for a measly ten days before he got shipped off to ANOTHER training camp. I moved into my apartment a week before classes started and remained there for two short days before I had to leave for South Carolina. The drive down was absolutely beautiful; I had views of the ocean, swamplands, and gorgeous blue skies all the way down. I passed “South of the Border”, some crazy Mexican food pavilion/ amusement park. I thought about counting all the “J.R. Outlet” signs on the way down but decide that I couldn’t count that high. Halfway down, I stopped at a Cracker Barrel to indulge in my childhood favorite: chicken and dumplings with carrots and fried okra.

^^^ I am not even kidding…

It wasn’t until about 10:00 p.m. that I actually reached the southernmost tip of South Carolina to meet my parents at our hotel; I beat them! At this point, I had contracted a cold the night before so I wasn’t at the top of my game. We had to wake up the next morning at 4:00 a.m. for family day and I didn’t fall asleep until about 12:30 a.m. …nice. So right before bed, I took a hefty dose of cough medicine (I’ll say a tablespoon and a half?) in hopes that this would knock me out for a few quality hours of sleep. Wrong.

^^^ Just say, “No.”

When I awoke just three and a half hours later, I felt SO SICK; and not just cold sick. I was nauseous. Very nauseous. I kept telling my mom, “I need to eat something…a bagel…a slice of bread…ANYTHING!” All she had on hand were chocolate chip cookies…which is great, when you aren’t scouting out trash cans to vomit in. So I ate one.

^^^ At this moment? Yes please. At the time? Dear Lord, no.

Next was our departure for Family Day on the base. This was the day before the actual graduation ceremony: a time to reunite and have your new Marine show you around the torture chamber that is Parris Island. To make a long story short, I felt quite sick for most of the morning but got a little better as the day went on. I was the first one to loose it when we saw Jake on the Parade Deck for the first time. They all had a motivational run and the families had to wait until afterwards to actually meet with their loved one. As I saw him in his drill formations, running with all the other Devil Dogs (a nickname given to the Marines by the Germans, I believe, during WWI…maybe?) I let it all out. I was SO PROUD of him.

Finally about an hour later, we were reunited with my older brother. There were more tears…lots and lots of tears. I would write more but to be frank, I haven’t the time. Classes at my University just started up again for the fall semester and between that and all the new activities I have taken on, life has become even more overwhelming. As soon as I can, I will write again but who knows when that’ll be. Just know that I am running around like a chicken with its head cut off. But the good news is: MY BROTHER IS A MARINE! : )

^^^ The few and the proud!

The top 5 things you can do to improve your day; turn that frown upside-down!

Yesterday, I experienced the best four miles of my life: Mt. Rogers in Marion, Virginia. It is the highest point in the state and I hiked all four miles with Mogli to the top. This hike has EVERYTHING a hiker could ever wish for in his or her afternoon adventure. Most of the trek will take you through rolling meadows but along the way, you will find many rocky peaks (I think we passed over two peaks before the home stretch to the top) and at the top, a lush forested area. Also, there are wild ponies along the way! Most of them are quite docile but with a dominant mare thrown into the mix, there may be some bullying over food amongst the animals. If you ever take this hike, be wary of how much attention you give to larger groups of ponies.

^^^ A lot of people take their horses up for trail rides. This is the view for most of the hike but you can’t see anything from the summit, as it is surrounded by trees…beautiful, mossy trees.

Because this hike put me in such a good mood, I figured up some other ways that you can improve your day; a quicker fix, shall we say? We don’t always have time to go on an eight mile hike. So when you are feeling blue, try these tips!

1. Wear an outfit you have never worn before. (it doesn’t have to be new. Mix and match your old stuff; the idea of change will be refreshing!)

^^^ I bet he’s having a GREAT day!

2. Eat a big breakfast. (Have some protein, fruit, and a piece of toast to start the day out right. You won’t be starving when it comes time for lunch, therefore, you won’t gorge yourself at lunchtime and make yourself feel sick! I hate that feeling.)

^^^ Yummy!

3. Stretch in the morning and/or at night! (This will allow you to relax and you’ll be doing something great for your body.)

^^^ Interesting…he has no face…

4. Make plans to do something fun in the near future. (It’s always good to have something to look forward to; we all need that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.)

^^^ Wow. Is this real?

5. Listen to some of your favorite feel-good songs. (Whether you are on your way to work or simply cleaning up your crib, happy music will make the world of a difference to your mood. Something as simple as driving or cleaning instantly becomes fun and exciting! At least for simple minds like my own.)

^^^ “OH MY GOSH! It’s my song!”

Alrighty folks! I am counting on YOU! Now let’s go out there and be happy! : )

The everyday trials and tribulations of the everyday motorist.

You know, someone once asked me the question,”Driver or passenger?” I answered confidently, “Driver.” I am the embodiment of the “driver” personality. I almost can’t STAND to be a passenger and I “take the wheel” in almost all aspects of my life. There are a select few people in the world who I will ride with and feel content. Well, ladies and gents, I have some stories concerning my driving adventures that have all occurred in the past week, ironically the week I have not written a darned thing. We’ll start small.

^^^ Me as a passenger; I am the worst of back-seat drivers.

The first story is pretty short and sweet. Last Tuesday, I was scheduled to meet my research partner, Mogli, for an afternoon in the field for some good old fashioned bug hunting (public service announcement: Mogli is not only my research partner, but we recently became a real couple; now I can send all those cats back to spinsterhood.com). So we rendez-vous at his abode where I load all my junk into his SUV (named “Jimmy”) and we set off for our research site. About halfway out to the site, the Jimmy’s accelerator ceases to function. Mogli did a tap dance on the pedal, attempting to keep the car moving forward on the interstate but to no avail. “What’s happening?!” I asked. “It won’t go! It’s not accelerating!”

We pulled over and thankfully Mogli’s sister who was close by agreed to pick us up and bring some oil along. Waiting to be rescued sitting in the back of the Jimmy, Mogli signaled to a truck passing by to honk the horn; he responded, “HONK HONK!” It was rather humorous. The only thing that wasn’t so funny about the rest of the day is that we came to know new oil was of no benefit to the Jimmy; he was going to have to be towed. With the remainder of the day, we collected water samples. Riveting.

^^^ Jimmy’s close cousin, Jim-Bob.

Now for the moment you have all been waiting for: Pain, Death, and Destruction. OK, no death really. But lots of PAIN! I was due in my college town (about 4 hours from home) this past Thursday to meet Lafonda and our old suite-mate (I will call her Josie) for an outdoor concert. Well, because I had to work Wednesday night, I was not able to even think about leaving until Thursday morning. The plan was for me to wake up around 8:00 a.m. and leave by 10:00 a.m. so that I would hopefully arrive with ample time to kill with the girls. Now brace yourselves! Every now and then I like to have a glass of wine before I hit the sack at night. This is an occasional ritual where I kick back and have a little ‘me’ time about once a week. I suppose because things have been a little hectic here lately, I had about a glass and a half of simple white wine. I am not a heavy drinker, but I have certainly had a glass and a half without much affect in the past. But on this night, something else was written in the stars.

^^^ This is usually never a problem for me…

I went to bed at about 12:30 a.m. only to wake up a few hours later in a cold sweat; I was SO SICK. Stumbling into the living room, I almost blacked out. You know when you are sick, you always remove yourself from bed. It’s like you have to brace yourself for whatever is going to happen next. So there I was at 5:00 a.m. on the couch, sweating but freezing. I began to feel a little better so I made my way back to my room to attempt sleep. It worked…for two hours. I awoke again at 7:00 a.m. only to find that I still felt awful so I did what any self-respecting college student living at home would do: found Mom.

“Dad said your lamp was on at 5. Are you ok?”

“I’m sick. Got a hold of the Vouvray…”

“You look sick.”

“Thanks.”

^^^ Go me…I felt like an idiot.

Mom begged me not to drive across the state that day but I insisted that I would be fine. “Let’s try toast,” I offered. I was actually quite hungry and toast sounded perfect. After a piece and a half, I felt ok. But then Mom left for work and things got progressively worse. What is it about the presence of a Mom that cures all ailments? Even when the dog was dying, Tess always seemed like new when Mom was around.

^^^ For sick people…

To sum things up in a not-so-graphic manner, my stomach purged itself by defying the laws of physics and gravity about 3 to 4 times? I lost count. Remember folks, I am the honest writer. I write what happens. And that’s what happened. Finally around 10:00 a.m. I started feeling human again. I had half a peach and another slice of toast. My stomach happily accepted the new food and I jumped in the shower to get ready for my road trip. It was half past noon by the time I got outta there. I stopped for lunch with Mogli where I ate the best mashed potatoes ever made and from there, traffic became intolerable. I didn’t reach my destination until about 8:00 p.m. and thank goodness Lafonda was waiting at the gate with my ticket, missing the opening act! : ( But she still gave me the biggest, best hug when I entered the gate and I was never so happy to see her in all my life; I never wanted to see my car again! A trip that should have taken four hours took me nearly eight!

^^^ Believe it.

And the timing was perfect. The second we made it back to the blanket on the lawn, Dave Mathews came out for his first song. We had an amazing time, swaying, singing, dancing, sweating. Through the sickness, rain, and traffic jams, I prevailed and made it to the concert, defeating the odds! I win!

^^^ Victory.

The Skinny Manikin epidemic and a bad hair day to boot.

As many of you already know, I despise shopping. Well, not entirely. But I was on the shopping scene, yet again, today. And on top of things, I did not have the best of mornings. I went to get my hair cut by the same lady I have been going to for about five years now but for some reason, it did not turn out so well. I mean, my hair looks fine. But it’s not really what I wanted. You see, my hair is straight as a board; we’re talking flatter than the state of Kansas. So generally speaking, I need a lot of layers when I get my hair cut. Usually I just tell her to do “the usual” since I have absolutely no spunk and I have worn my hair the same for…basically all my life. So she did “the usual”…but on a much smaller scale. Essentially, there are no layers there. I complained to my mom in a very flustered manner and she attempted to make me feel better by saying, “Well, there are layers there; just kind of invisible layers…” And she was completely serious. “Invisible?! Invisible,” was my response.

^^^ Mhmm.

So my hair is even flatter than it was before my haircut. I shyly called my stylist back and apologized for requesting to reschedule another appointment (which is darned near impossible), assuring her that it wasn’t her fault but mine for not making it clear what I wanted.

This leads to the next scenario. After being adorned with a not-so-adorable hair style, I was whisked away to the mall by my mother; we had a couple small things we needed to check out. With it being a Saturday, the place was packed. Teenagers were on their cell phones. Babies were crying. Moms were yelling. Buzzers were going off. YUCK! With my bad hair, I was not in the mood.

So I was trying to escape from one of the department stores when I noticed how skinny the manikins were. It’s ridiculous! I mean, in China the manikins were extremely thin but I figured that was because their country, in general, is full of very petite women. But even here in America, they have these rail thin manikins that are comparable to tree limbs! And I don’t mean oak! We’re talking dogwood branches, here. Their legs are the size of my arms! They MUST be a size zero. And how many women are a size zero?! I was a zero my freshman year of high school when I was fifteen years old…AND I AM PETITE! I still wear petite clothing. I am only five feet tall but I am healthy and I DO NOT wear a zero anymore.

^^^ Ok…This was the best image of a manikin I could find with clothes on. And the manikins in the mall were even thinner!

So this image makes me ask, “What are we expecting of young women?” It is my belief that in America, we have a HUGE problem with weight lifestyles. The problem is that we are mostly overweight but we expect people to be thin. We are chucking unhealthy foods out our citizens nonstop. Soft drinks, candy, fast food, fried and processed. It’s no wonder we have a weight problem! The paradox! We now tell our little girls, “Ok Susie, here’s five waffles for breakfast…but make sure you don’t reach triple digits on the scale!” WHAT?! It’s not just girls, either. I imagine that boys are dealing with the same issues.

^^^ A typical American lunch…

If I had complete control of the situation (which I never will), I would remove all manikins from the stores, throw away magazines with unrealistic images of women, and stop the onslaught of unhealthy foods that Americans are bombarded with every day. You know what would happen then?! People would look better, and feel better! Young women would learn to embrace their curves and unique figures, whether they’re tall and thin or short and curvy (like me). The goal is to be healthy, not what society thinks you should be. There. That’s my rant for today.

^^^ Yay for Dove and real bodies!