I guess he didn't like what he saw (bum bum bum)

It's a rainy and gross Monday night and as my husband and I are playing with our 3 month old daughter we decide to turn on King 5 news - also known as my favorite local news station (love you, Joyce Taylor). The drama unfolds...

Let me start at the beginning though, as all good stories should start. I was blind as a bat and my contacts at one point where thick enough to be used as mini coffee filters. I literally would run into things...granted I am a clutz, but the poor vision didn't help any.

After anxiously waiting to have eye surgery until it was a bit more common and affordable, I was beyond excited when my appointment date came in November of 2007. I would finally be able to see...without contacts, or glasses...it was a glorious thought.

I wasn't nervous, I probably should have been though. Instead I decided to say "yes please, and may I have another?" when the valium cart came around. I knew that once I had the eye surgery that I would have to wear these ridiculously large sunglasses and go right to sleep. So I decided that the other wonderful thing to add to this cocktail was vodka and water, an old staple from my college years (please do keep in mind that this was years before I became a mother and more responsible, although I still wouldn't call myself mature by any stretch of the imagination). Where was I? Ah yes....the plot thickens.....

After the 2.2 minutes it took to have my eyeballs sliced open and corrected, my husband took my hand and led me to our car. I was still greatly enjoying the valium and took the doctor's advice and brought along some sleeping pills. Well valium, Tylenol PM, and vodka water is an interesting combination...interesting enough that my husband had to pretty much carry me up the stairs to our townhouse apartment. I found out later that I also kept insisting "no rescue" such as Miranda did after her eye surgery in an episode of Sex and the City. I also woke up in Doug's pajama pants and they were on backwards. This is especially funny considering Doug weighs about 90 pounds more than I do and is 6 foot 2.

I then woke up and could see - it was amazing. It took a few weeks to not have a halo around everything though (the Christmas tree that year REALLY freaked me out, to say the least). But I look back now and am so thrilled to have gone through with the eye surgery.

Back to current time...

Imagine my surprise when on the news tonight I see that one of the founders of the lasik office I went to is in prison on $3 million dollar bail for plotting to kill the other founder. Yeah....that happened. Go to King5.com and check it out (Dr. Mockovak) if you doubt me. Not only was he one of the founders, but also the guy that performed my surgery. I just keep thinking back to that afternoon that I had my eyes done and how after Dr. Mockavak finished, I hugged him due to my high stooper. Perhaps he should have been the one asking for seconds on the valium.

The joy of "Kath"

One of my favorite college experiences was living with my old friend Kate on Greek Row at Wazzu. I had found us a small apartment in the attic part of an old house - sounds scary, I know, but it had a ton of personality despite it being the size of a shoebox. Because it was in the top part of the house, the ceiling was A-framed and and didn't allow for much head room. Not a problem for Kate, being shorter than myself, but at 5'8" I was hitting my head all the time. I now realize how Kate must have really loved me to live there, given how random and small it was.

After a visit with my oldest sister down in Portland that fall, I brought back with me her copy of the first season of Sex and the City. I of course borrowed this (unbeknown to her) and didn't steal it - in case she's reading this. After watching every episode together as part of our bar pre-funk, Kate and I both became addicts. It was bad. Six years later I am still obsessed with that show, but that is a whole other post.

My boyfriend at the time (who now is my hubby) would head out the door for Air Force PT early in the morning and leave me still passed out on my mattress, which lay on the floor underneath one of these A-frame "nooks". It's amazing we didn't kill ourselves attempting to get out of bed. As he would leave the apartment, a strange sound would be coming from the living room...is that a theme song?...

There lay Kate, happy in her peaceful slumber, an empty bottle of wine clutched to her chest and the Sex and the City DVD main menu on repeat on the television. Not once did this happen, not twice, but enough times that my husband still comments about it every time I happen to have the show on. Sometimes I even see a small nostalgic tear roll down his pretty little face.

So Kate, if you're reading this, I've got a bottle of wine and the entire series on DVD if you happen to come up from Oregon. I promise that you can spoon my 60 pound malamute on the couch and keep the main menu on repeat, while drinking all my Two Buck Chuck. Then we can call our men and tell them "I am a woman....a WO-MAN!" and then dance all night to 80's music at Valhala.....hala!!!!

Thanks, 4 times over

I interviewed this amazing guy yesterday who recently moved to the north end of Seattle. We were talking about his background and what he's interested in doing, spending most of that conversation focusing on his experience in the Army. He recently got out and was last stationed at Fort Lewis.

This young guy, in the course of under 5 years, went on 4 deployments - 3 to Iraq and 1 to Afghanistan. Being the wife of an ex-military man myself, the daughter of an Army veteran, the sister of an F-22 instructor pilot, and having met my closest friends through the military or ROTC, I have an unwavering respect for our armed services.

Before leaving, I thanked him for his service...he looked at me and didn't understand why I was thanking him. How is this possible? Are we seriously not thanking these people enough??? It's such a HUGE sacrifice to be in the military that we need to remind these brave men and women, and their families, how thankful we are. Here this guy is, a veteran, totally flailing and unsure of his next move because he's used to it being mapped out for him. Once you've seen what life is like and the connection that being a part of the military grants you, it will always serve as a basis of comparison.

So with Veteran's Day rapidly approaching, let's make sure to give credit to those serving or those that have served...thank them...4 times over.

Stick that Stop sign up your street

Dear cranky construction worker,

After our lovely run-in on Friday afternoon I have decided that you need a little ray of sunshine to brighten your day. This ray of sunshine is of course coming in the form of a giant fireball that I am throwing directly at you in the hopes that it may wake you up to the realization that you are a jerk.

When a driver comes up to a work zone and you have your stop sign down and you are looking across the street at the teenage girls that are walking by, don't be surprised when said driver starts to slowly creep forward. Better yet, let them know where you want them to go before swearing at them and getting all frustrated. You suck at your job.

If this driver also happens to roll down their window and point out to you that you don't have to be such an ass, you might want to listen. She's making a good point when she tells you that maybe you should communicate what you want her to do - either use that damn sign you are holding or your voice. You have both for a reason you know.

Oh, and when you retort back with "you need an attitude adjustment, especially with your kid in the backseat" do remember that you are only frustrated because a) this driver was right when they pointed out that you are horrible at your job, and b) their child would also think you were a douche bag if they had words yet to describe you.

Keep smoking those cigarettes.

~ Driver

Banana Hammock and Crap Bag

There are so many times during every single day where I find myself saying something or hearing something that makes me think of my sister, Kristin. Usually it's things that only she would also find entertaining. For instance, the t.v. show Friends can really be applied to so many different scenarios. I don't know how many times I have called fellow recruiters at various other offices and used Regina Falangie as my name. No one seems to get it. "Yes, Mrs. Falangie, they'll be right with you." Seriously? Have you never seen the show Friends??! And if not, then what rock have you been living under? So dear Wondertwin, to you I say this: "we'll have a little Baby Ruth..."

No really, I don't care

My husband insists on not once, but twice, boring me to death with some fabricated story on a random website about how all members of The Beatles are alive and well in a different dimension. His eyes are the size of saucers and then goes on to insist that this random fellow who claims to have traveled to this dimension has also brought back with him a tape (that's right, not a CD, but a tape) of never before heard Beatles songs. Once the tape is burned and in my hands, he goes into the details of the story yet again....and somewhere between his enthusiasm and my boredom, I realize it is fall (enter mass amounts of rain and thunder).