...and only 21 left to go. Here's the breakdown: (as of 2/19/09, 2:09:22 PM)
Months remaining: 4.95
Weeks remaining: 21
Days remaining: 148
Hours remaining: 3,578
Minutes: 213,757
Seconds remaining:12,822,797.90
And, no, I don't actually have that much time on my hands. Also, obviously, it counts down to a theoretical date, which most likely, will not be the actual date they return. One of the ladies in our squadron and her husband developed this Deployment Countdown for their kids. It's actually kind of fun to watch the numbers get lower.
Doesn't make me miss him any less, though. Especially yesterday, what with it being trash day, and all.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Birthday
Tomorrow is my blog's birthday. I feel I should mention this today, since I will be drowning my sorrows in a bottle(s) of tequila.
5 1/2 months left to go....
5 1/2 months left to go....
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Apocalypse Now
In a further example of impending doom, this morning I had to scrape the ice off my windshield with an ice scraper. Ice. Ice scraper.
More amazing still, was (a) the fact that we still even have an ice scraper and (b) that I remember how to use it.
I can't say the same for my native Southern Californian neighbor, who, as he was walking his dog that's roughly twice the size of me, asked me, "Well, now, what's that nifty little gadget you got there?"
More amazing still, was (a) the fact that we still even have an ice scraper and (b) that I remember how to use it.
I can't say the same for my native Southern Californian neighbor, who, as he was walking his dog that's roughly twice the size of me, asked me, "Well, now, what's that nifty little gadget you got there?"
Monday, February 9, 2009
The Pilot's Wife Rules of Driving in the Rain
Recently, SoCal has been hit by some rather unfavorable weather. In fact, I'm seriously considering asking for my money back: I signed up for sunny and 70, folks, not rainy and 40!
Now, don't get me wrong. I, as much as the next person, enjoy a rainy day at home, in bed with a good book, but what I truly don't enjoy is the Monday morning commute with a bunch of weenie SoCal drivers. And, on days like today, I really envy my husband, who can just fly over all this commuter crap.
So, you see, I grew up in Atlanta, in a part of the state that sees some CRAZY ASS WEATHER. On more than one occasion, my mother literally had to drag me down to the basement so I wouldn't be sucked up into the sky by the funnel cloud of which I so desperately wanted to catch a glimpse. So, needless to say, driving in the rain isn't that big a deal to me. Because, let's face it, on I-285, it's sink or swim, bitches. Actually, more like drive or DIE.
So you can imagine my frustration as I attempted to wind my way down the I-15 this morning. On a normal day, the flow of traffic on that highway can be expected to be about 80mph or so, so you can imagine my consternation at having to drive 40 FRAKKING MILES PER HOUR through what can only be described as heavy drizzle.
With my patience wearing thinner and thinner (as well as that of my son, Aaron, screaming from the backseat, "GO GO GO GO!), my exit came into view. THANK YOU LORD. However, blocking my ability to exit the highway is Joe Douchebag, who is trying to merge into the flow of traffic by COMING TO A COMPLETE STOP, sitting in the right hand lane with his blinker on. Really, people, how hard is it to MERGE? (And alternatively, for those already in the flow of traffic, don't be an assface -- let the bastard in!) They even put up those ridiculously asinine ramp lights to help you out with that. (And don't even get me started on those...because really, it makes COMPLETE sense to require drivers to come to a complete stop, before giving them approximately 50 yards to merge into 80mph traffic!) But no, here sits Joe Douchebag, at zero miles per hour, completely blocking the right lane, and apparently oblivious to the horn on which I have been leaning for the past five minutes. (And all I got for my trouble was an extended middle finger!)
So, with that delightful little introduction, I give you, dear reader (and dear Joe Douchebag) The Pilot's Wife Rules of Driving in the Rain:
1) Turn your headlights on.
This really is a no brainer. Combine the fog of the marine layer with the steam rising off the road, and basically any moisture falling on San Diego is going to create a bit of limited visibility. Trust me, this isn't for your benefit alone: it also helps the people behind you from smashing into your rear bumper. Leading me to #2...
2) DON'T TAILGATE.
Taking into consideration that 98% of the population of Southern California reacts to rain in much the same way that Atlantans react to a single snowflake falling from the sky, you'll be doing yourself a favor by allowing a little extra space between you and the car in front of you. So, at the very least, when the idiot in front of you can't seem to remember if THIS is his exit or not (in spite of the fact that he probably makes this commute EVERY DAY OF HIS LIFE) and slams on his brakes in order to squint at the sign, you'll be far enough behind him to react appropriately. A general rule of thumb for this is one car length for every 10mph. That, however, is not to say...
3) See that sign? That's the speed limit!
If the posted speed limit is 65 miles per hour, why don't you maybe try going 55 when it's raining? Really, 35 mph is a bit excessive.
4) Pump your brakes.
Should the cars in front of you not read this blog, and don't know to turn on their headlights or drive faster than a normal person can run, don't slam on your brakes when they ultimately slam on theirs. Water on the road = hydroplaning. Ease on up, huh?
5) If you really can't hack it, pull the frak over.
If you can't stand the heat (or my horn), get out of the kitchen. Pull over to the right, turn on your hazard lights, and wait it out.
6) OBEY THE LAW.
I'm talking to you, truckers! You know that little law that FORBIDS you from driving in the lefthand lane? Well, just because it's raining doesn't mean that it doesn't still apply.
I really think that if everyone took these simple rules into account (read: if everyone was as awesome as I am), we could all just get along swimmingly.
Now, don't get me wrong. I, as much as the next person, enjoy a rainy day at home, in bed with a good book, but what I truly don't enjoy is the Monday morning commute with a bunch of weenie SoCal drivers. And, on days like today, I really envy my husband, who can just fly over all this commuter crap.
So, you see, I grew up in Atlanta, in a part of the state that sees some CRAZY ASS WEATHER. On more than one occasion, my mother literally had to drag me down to the basement so I wouldn't be sucked up into the sky by the funnel cloud of which I so desperately wanted to catch a glimpse. So, needless to say, driving in the rain isn't that big a deal to me. Because, let's face it, on I-285, it's sink or swim, bitches. Actually, more like drive or DIE.
So you can imagine my frustration as I attempted to wind my way down the I-15 this morning. On a normal day, the flow of traffic on that highway can be expected to be about 80mph or so, so you can imagine my consternation at having to drive 40 FRAKKING MILES PER HOUR through what can only be described as heavy drizzle.
With my patience wearing thinner and thinner (as well as that of my son, Aaron, screaming from the backseat, "GO GO GO GO!), my exit came into view. THANK YOU LORD. However, blocking my ability to exit the highway is Joe Douchebag, who is trying to merge into the flow of traffic by COMING TO A COMPLETE STOP, sitting in the right hand lane with his blinker on. Really, people, how hard is it to MERGE? (And alternatively, for those already in the flow of traffic, don't be an assface -- let the bastard in!) They even put up those ridiculously asinine ramp lights to help you out with that. (And don't even get me started on those...because really, it makes COMPLETE sense to require drivers to come to a complete stop, before giving them approximately 50 yards to merge into 80mph traffic!) But no, here sits Joe Douchebag, at zero miles per hour, completely blocking the right lane, and apparently oblivious to the horn on which I have been leaning for the past five minutes. (And all I got for my trouble was an extended middle finger!)
So, with that delightful little introduction, I give you, dear reader (and dear Joe Douchebag) The Pilot's Wife Rules of Driving in the Rain:
1) Turn your headlights on.
This really is a no brainer. Combine the fog of the marine layer with the steam rising off the road, and basically any moisture falling on San Diego is going to create a bit of limited visibility. Trust me, this isn't for your benefit alone: it also helps the people behind you from smashing into your rear bumper. Leading me to #2...
2) DON'T TAILGATE.
Taking into consideration that 98% of the population of Southern California reacts to rain in much the same way that Atlantans react to a single snowflake falling from the sky, you'll be doing yourself a favor by allowing a little extra space between you and the car in front of you. So, at the very least, when the idiot in front of you can't seem to remember if THIS is his exit or not (in spite of the fact that he probably makes this commute EVERY DAY OF HIS LIFE) and slams on his brakes in order to squint at the sign, you'll be far enough behind him to react appropriately. A general rule of thumb for this is one car length for every 10mph. That, however, is not to say...
3) See that sign? That's the speed limit!
If the posted speed limit is 65 miles per hour, why don't you maybe try going 55 when it's raining? Really, 35 mph is a bit excessive.
4) Pump your brakes.
Should the cars in front of you not read this blog, and don't know to turn on their headlights or drive faster than a normal person can run, don't slam on your brakes when they ultimately slam on theirs. Water on the road = hydroplaning. Ease on up, huh?
5) If you really can't hack it, pull the frak over.
If you can't stand the heat (or my horn), get out of the kitchen. Pull over to the right, turn on your hazard lights, and wait it out.
6) OBEY THE LAW.
I'm talking to you, truckers! You know that little law that FORBIDS you from driving in the lefthand lane? Well, just because it's raining doesn't mean that it doesn't still apply.
I really think that if everyone took these simple rules into account (read: if everyone was as awesome as I am), we could all just get along swimmingly.
Monday, February 2, 2009
OpLove
Recently, I signed our family up to participate in a photo session compliments of Operation: Love ReUnited, a non-profit organization in which local photographers can participate by donating their services to local military families.
We had our photo session yesterday at Old Poway Park, courtesy of Tony Eisenhower Photography.
To view our photos, contact me by email at bree.brown@mac.com and I will provide you with the password.
We had our photo session yesterday at Old Poway Park, courtesy of Tony Eisenhower Photography.
To view our photos, contact me by email at bree.brown@mac.com and I will provide you with the password.
photo courtesy of Tony Eisenhower Photography
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