I remember back in my single days, people used to pester me about buying a house. I guess they thought a 27-year old woman shouldn’t be living in an apartment, throwing away her hard-earned cash on rent when she could be throwing it away on lawnmowers and air conditioning filters and homeowner’s insurance.

“You don’t need a husband to buy a house,” was an unsolicited comment I used to get a lot, which was funny. They were right, I didn’t need a husband…but I wanted one. Could I have afforded a mortgage? Probably, but geez, I didn’t want to take care of the maintenance and upkeep all by myself.

And now, here I am…maintaining and keeping up the house all by myself. Now to be fair, I’m not slaving away all day. I have someone who comes in and cleans every two weeks and someone who mows the yard but sheesh, that’s the easy stuff. The tougher things include washing the windows…and trimming trees and clearing out the weeds that thrive in hot Texas heat. Don’t forget about going to Lowe’s to buy a masonry bit so I can drill a hole in our brick exterior to mount a bracket and hang an American flag.

But on the flip side, I get to plant jasmine bushes out front and buy patio furniture and sip a glass of wine on my back deck after a tough day at work.

So, it’s all good.

So I went to Lowe’s this morning to get a masonry drill bit. I walk in with my anchor, so I can get the right drill bit, and walk up to this decrepit old man wearing a Lowe’s name tag in the Tools section.

Snarky: Hi! I need some help. I’m looking for a masonry drill bit that will drill a hole to fit this anchor. {shows him the anchor}
Decrepit Old Man: Do you have a drill?
Snarky: {pause} Um, yes. Why would I ask for a drill bit if I didn’t have a drill?
Decrepit Old Man: {pause} Right over here.

I guess I should be grateful he didn’t call me “little lady.” I can’t help but be amused at the fact that had Capt. UberHusband gone in and made the same statement, he wouldn’t have been asked if he had a drill.

I’m just sayin’.

p>I was walking through the living room a few minutes ago, and caught this exchange from the 2002 episode of ER (Prime time in the daytime! On TNT!) titled, “Brothers and Sisters.”

It just struck me as amusing…wouldn’t this have made a fabulous prime time mad lib?

{Dr. Romano is following Dr. Weaver with a study in his hand, flipping the pages back and forth.}

Dr. Romano: Did you know, that lesbians have a higher risk of breast, cervical and ovarian cancers because they are less likely to have children by age 30, if at all?

Dr. Kerry “Lesbian” Weaver: Is that so.
Dr. Romano: Yeah! Lesbians are less likely to seek health care because of discomfort of “coming out” to health care providers.
Kerry: Why are you telling me this?

Dr. Romano: LESbians are also less likely to get routine gynecological services, which means later detection of these cancers.
Kerry: Robert.
Dr. Romano: Huh?
Kerry: Do you have to keep saying that?

Dr. Romano: What, lesbians? I’m just reading what it says. {flipping pages}
Kerry: Don’t.
Dr. Romano: I can’t help it. Kerry…this gets me excited…you wanna know why? Because this…smells like money. Your sisters are under-serviced, and we can fix that.

I was reading a post Becky wrote yesterday about “quenching your soul’s thirst” and, when combined with an email my dad sent me last night asking if I thought most bloggers were cranky and angry and miserable, it prompted me to post my own Soul-Thirst-Quenching list.

Because sometimes, you need to talk about the good.
# Looking at my countdown clock each day and realizing the number really does keep going down, whether I believe it or not.
# Talking to my mom, and knowing I can totally be myself with her.
# The quiet, cool stillness of the morning before the sun comes up.
# Watching The Simpsons and King Of The Hill.
# Successfully accomplishing a task that Capt. UberHusband would have done, if he were here.
# Creating something, whether it be crocheting an afghan or making a scrapbook although, Evil PMS Bunny wasn’t that thirst-quenching.
# Picking and eating a homegrown tomato, right off the vine.
# Going to the first movie showing on a Sunday morning.
# Playing ball with Daisy…because she’d do it for an hour if I’d let her.
# When Cookie comes up to me with her ball and drops it in front of me, ready to play.
# Hugs from Capt. UberHusband. Even virtual ones will work.

What quenches your soul’s thirst?

From President Bush’s speech tonight:

Some Americans ask me, if completing the mission is so important, why don’t you send more troops? If our commanders on the ground say we need more troops, I will send them. But our commanders tell me they have the number of troops they need to do their job. Sending more Americans would undermine our strategy of encouraging Iraqis to take the lead in this fight.

Well then. Damn good thing we’re sending Capt. UberHusband over in two weeks. Don’t get me wrong, I support my husband and I support what he’s doing and his commitment to the U.S. Army.

However…it does irritate me to hear things like this. Of course, I could always do the glass-half-full thing and imagine the commanders, reclining back in their chairs after hearing Capt. UberHusband had been reactivated and saying…”Aha. That’s all we needed. Now we’re done.” {patriotic music swells in the background}

Time to go to bed. I’m sure I’ll be up early tomorrow.

My bladder and my dogs woke me up bright and early at 5:30 this morning, but that’s not a bad thing. Especially during these inferno-like Texas summers, I try to enjoy the 75-degree low temperature whenever I can get it.

Seeing’s as I was up and at ‘em, I figured I’d drive down to Starbucks and pick me up a nonfat latte and a cinnamon chip scone. Then I drove home. As I was rounding the corner on the main “thoroughfare” before reaching my street…driving at the speed limit of 30 MPH, I just about ran over Betty and Wilma, “jogging” through the neighborhood.

Now, I’ve almost run over Betty and Wilma before. They like to “jog” in the middle of the road, facing oncoming traffic…either right before sunrise or just after sunset, generally wearing dark clothes and clueless looks on their faces.

Now, I’m all for exercise. God knows I could probably stand to spend some extra time in my running shoes but, in the middle of the road? When it’s dark outside?

It’s no big secret that over the last couple of months, I’ve developed a serious dislike for Tom Cruise. He used to be so hot and so cute and so…so. Now though, blech.

This weekend, Capt. UberHusband and I were watching Tom belittle Matt Lauer in a rebroadcast of that horrific interview regarding Brooke Shields, antidepressants and the science of psychiatry as little more than legalized witchcraft. Ironic, since we were about to go see Bewitched, starring the ex-Mrs. Tom Cruise.

We’ve all seen the interview, so I won’t go into the play-by-play, but I just have to ask…Tom…when exactly did you have the time to become the All-Knowing God Of All Things Psychiatric, when it’s pretty obvious all you’ve been doing for the last few months is, well, Katie? Download a lot of books to your iPod?

And…Tom used the word “glib.” I laughed out loud when I heard that. “Oh Matt, you’re so glib.”

Excuse me…I need to go take my meds.

p>Sandy wanted to see more doggie pictures…so here you go…LOL!

Unfortunately, Daisy had her ears down and looked all sad and depressed all weekend so I couldn’t get anything good of her. I’ll need to talk to her about that.

Clickify the pictures to see the full glory of Frick and Frack. I can’t believe Cookie is going to be nine years old in just four short months.

Wow, the last three days sure did go by fast. Capt. UberHusband has departed the Big D and is heading to Fort Benning, Georgia where he’ll complete his training before heading over to Iraq.

And here I am…stuck at home…picking up the pieces. Literally. I didn’t realize how clean the house stayed with just one person in it until there was someone else around…LOL.

On that note, I’m going to clean up the house, watch a little Law & Order: Sport Utility Vehicle and try to keep Daisy from hiding under the bed.

So, I was surfing around the internet looking for t-shirts or mugs or something that showed my pride as an Army wife. I found a few things but most of the items…well, they weren’t me. I’m not a roses ‘n schlock kind of girl so I thought to myself, “Hey self, instead of complaining you can’t find anything…why don’t you make something?”

So I did.

Check out my new Proud Army Wife store at CafePress.

Nothing of real significance happened except…Snarky started her blog!

I laugh when I look back at earlier posts, because they’re not very funny and you can really tell that I’m just starting out. I hadn’t found my niche yet. We all had to crawl before we walked though, right?

I’m working on a post highlighting some of my favorite posts over the past year…will have that up later today.

And…today’s mad libber is MIA. I’ve been trying to contact him/her for his/her list of words. If it’s you, you’ll know…I sent you an email telling you today was your day.

And oh yeah, this weekend was great. Had a superfantabulous time. I’m incredibly tired. Augusta is a 2-hour drive out of Atlanta so if you take the hour it takes to get to the airport, add on airport and flight time and a 2-hour drive…I was tired on Friday. Reverse it and you get yesterday…LOL.

But…the best news…Capt. UberHusband gets to come home Thursday night before heading to his final U.S. destination on Sunday for two weeks before heading over to the sandbox.

Yay! Happy Monday!

I ate two of the cookies last night…that seemed to quiet the sugary little monsters…overnight, at least. This morning though, they’re at it again…”Snarrrrrrrrky…cooooookies…it’s what’s for breakfast!”

Wait…should I be concerned that my food is starting to talk to me?

I’m taking some of the cookies to Capt. UberHusband and am also taking one of Audrey’s tomato offspring. No fair that he planted her back in April and doesn’t get to reap the benefits, right? Speaking of which, I made pasta pomodoro last night with the tomatoes and was all in a tizzy because I didn’t have any parmesan cheese. Can’t have pasta pomodoro without parmesan cheese, right?

Didn’t need it…and the tomatoes were so good. I can’t tell you. Tonight I’m making a tomato, basil & mozzerella salad. With the bumper crop of tomatoes I appear to be in for this summer, it looks like it’s time to invite Ali and her sangria over for salsa and chit-chat.

Well, Capt. UberHusband got his “orders” yesterday afternoon. I put “orders” in “quotation marks” because these “orders” could theoretically change at any time “per the needs of the Army” so, although we are preparing for this to be his official “assignment,” it won’t be “official” until he touches “ground”.

As expected, he’s going to Iraq. Fun. For twelve months. Good thing he’s lived through six Texas summers, eh?

I can’t say any more about it, because I think he’d have to kill me. Or, all of you. He can’t kill the weeds in our front yard, our lawn service already did that.

Sorry ’bout the post title, couldn’t come up with anything better that wouldn’t be schlocky, schmaltzy or schad. But let me tell you, I am going to create some kick ass care packages.

My housekeeper and the company’s office manager gave me a very nice card today, thanking me for my business and telling me that if I needed anything during Capt. UberHusband’s deployment, to give them a call…they have tons of contacts who apparently can do everything from weed my flower beds to raze my house.

It was a very kind and considerate gesture…I’m so accustomed to people being assholes (except for you fine folk, my family, a few close friends and my housekeeper), that it’s tough for me to accept graciousness. But, I think I did it without looking like too much of a heel. I’m learning.

Anyway, they also gave me a beautifully wrapped gift…I opened it up and…it’s cookies. Chocolate chip cookies. I haven’t had cookies in the house in months.

Now, they’re just sitting there, calling my name. Listen. Do you hear them? It’s a little muffled through the plastic wrap…”Snarrrrrrrrrrrrrrky…you know you want to sit down and eat all of us in one shot. You know you want it.”

Damn cookies.

Capt. UberHusband and I had a date today. We went and saw Cinderella Man. He saw it at 11:45 a.m. EDT and I saw it at 11:05 a.m. CDT. Then, we got on the phone afterwards to discuss.

Now, I just don’t get why people aren’t going to see this movie. If you’re avoiding it because you think Russell Crowe is a jerk, get over yourself and go watch him do what he does best…act. He’s amazing. Just like with what he did for A Beautiful Mind and Gladiator, he took his character, boxing legend Jim Braddock…and became him.

It was a mesmerizing and unbelievably riveting film. I cried when Jim Braddock’s family didn’t have enough money to pay their electric bill during the depths of the Depression. I cried when he told his daughter that he’d had a dream about steaks and mashed potatoes and that he was stuffed, so could she finish his breakfast? I cried when he had no choice but to go to the government for assistance and I cried when he paid the $368 back.

I cheered when he kicked Max Baer’s arrogant ass in the ring and became the heavyweight champion.

I don’t recommend taking the kids to see Cinderella Man, because the movie is very violent…I have a tough time watching boxing, real or fictional. But then again, some movies are made for adults and all you adults out there…you should go see it. I hate to use that tired cliche of it being a movie about the triumph of the human spirit, but it was.

And Paul Giamatti…he was amazing…one of the best supporting performances I think I’ve ever seen.

I think the funniest part of the movie was the woman behind me who apparently wasn’t up to speed on Jim Braddock’s story because, when he took a fairly nasty punch part-way through his bout with Baer, she said, “Well, that’s the end of his boxing career.” {snicker}

Can’t wait for next weekend, when Mr. and Mrs. UberHusband get to go see Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

I went out earlier this morning to Starbucks and picked up a nonfat latte and a cinnamon chip scone. On the way home, I spied a couple on a tandem bicycle-built-for-two and thought, “Oh, how cool! How fun they can bike together!”

Then, I got a little closer and spied something truly tragic…the woman was listening to an iPod. The man was not.

I mean, what’s the freaking point? Why ride a tandem bike if you’re not going to communicate with your co-rider?