Monday, October 31, 2011

For shame.

Look at me.

I have gone and done it. I done did the one thing I promised I wouldn't done do. I stopped blogging. Well...temporarily, obviously. I guess if I really stopped blogging, then you wouldn't be reading this. Which you are. All three of you.

But, I had good excuses for my hiatus. Well, not necessarily GOOD excuses. I had excuses. And at least for PART of my hiatus.

Here's the breakdown:

- Husband goes to Baltimore for six weeks to learn how to be a Public Affairs superstar, or some such nonsense, leaving me to fend for myself in the wilds of Germany.
- Wild fires in Texas nearly destroy my childhood home (and DID destroy the homes of our closest family friend). Luckily, Mr. Destructo Fire only destroyed the playhouse that my dad and grandpa built for us kids, my dad's jewelry shop, pump house, barn, and the dad-built sidecar that my brother and I made our home every time we went on to a rally. Stupid fire...
- Fly home to Texas for two weeks. I'm terrified of flying. Flying by myself is even worse. I drank a lot of wine on that flight...
- Uncle breaks his back doing some sort of "I'm going to kick Mr. Destructo Fire's ASS" dance, and they find a tumor in his kidney. That's 2, Mr. Destructo. You won't get a 3rd.
- I somehow manage to pull the scar tissue in my ankle, causing uberpain and uberswelling.
- Grandma gets put in assisted living. It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that now I feel even MORE guilty for living halfway around the world, and now all she wants to do is talk about how when she gets out of the assisted living, she's coming to visit me in Germany. Also, I'm a germaphobe, and that place scared me. So. Many. GERMS!
- After two weeks of reverting to a 19 year old living with her parents, I fly back to Germany.
This time, whiskey is consumed.
- Due to mechanical problems on the plane, we are an hour late waiting for the repair shop to fix what I can only assume will result in our fiery deaths.
More whiskey is consumed.
- I have to sit next to Wiggles McShiftybutt on the plane ride home. Next to him is a husband and wife, and the wife is easily 10x more scared of flying than I am. She freaks me out.
- Some bitch at the baggage claim takes my bag instead of hers. The attendant assures me it will be ok, and I'll get my bag back. I don't believe her. Did I mention I had just spent about $500 on new clothes? Also, my wedding shoes were in the bag, and some craftwork that took me quite literally 100 hours to complete?
- It takes me an hour and a half to find the shuttle to take me back to the Holiday Parking lot. The Frankfurt Airport is quite literally the worst airport I have ever been to. And that's including my trips to the Nairobi airport, and the El Salvador airport.
- I get the kiddos back from the kennel. My cat is sick. Like, super-explosive-crusty-butt diarrhea sick. This upsets me more than anything else, I think. I am at home by myself, completely jet-lagged, awake for 36 hours, no bag (which means no clothes, toothbrush, etc.), leg is giving out on me, and I keep having to clean up poo all night.

Now, I absolutely realize that I'm a big huge drama queen. Everything worked out in the end. My flights were fine, I got my bags back, the husband came home, my uncle is fine, my grandma is getting out of assisted living, my parents hit pay dirt with the insurance.

But that DOESN'T MEAN that at the time I didn't think it was the most horrible, no-good, very worst time ever. It's my party and I'll cry if I want to, dammit.

And then when things all calmed down, I just plain didn't feel like blogging. But then my guilt about blogging made me want to blog, but then I couldn't, because I felt too ashamed to do it. Also, when you find out that half your closest friends stopped reading your blog a long time ago, it kinda crushes your blogging spirit a little. Yeah, you know who you are. :P