Blonde Moments

That's a fairly new term for me. I hadn't heard it until recently, but knew immediately to what it was referring.

Here's an example:

My co-worker lives in an open bay b-hut with 15 other women.  Bottom bunks are hard-fought and earned with time and making back-door deals.  So, she had finally gotten her bottom bunk and had moved her stuff onto it and locked her locker.  She was looking forward to sleeping in the bottom bunk and making her cocoon of blankets so she'd have her own little private area.

She came into the b-hut when she got done with work and there was a woman pulling all her blankets and sheets off her bed and throwing it on the floor.  She confronted the woman and she said that it was "her" bunk.  Well, my friend was the queen of self-restraint and didn't snatch her bald, but she probably should have.  She did give the interloper a piece of her mind (without cussing even once) and sent the other bunk contender packing to a top bunk.

Later, she went to the bathroom and heard some of the women talking about the event.  (Apparently the interloper had been talking about how abused she was) She said, "yeah, did she tell you about how she tore the blankets and stuff off my bed first?"  The other ladies were shocked.

So she stomped off to the b-hut and confronted the other woman again, telling her that, if she's going to tell stories, she should at least tell the WHOLE story. 

The next morning, when the interloper left to take a shower, the other women came up to my friend and said that they were ready to get out the popcorn because they were sure it was going to be "on and poppin'". 

**Note:  I would have had to be sent home if something similar happened to me because I'm sure that I would have folded the hiefer into a pretzel and chucked her out the door**

It probably is.

One of my buddies was planning a trip to a sunny locale for his vacation and wanted to do it up luxurious and special.

He found a site that specialized in luxury villas and proceeded to communicate with the "intermediary" for the villa owners.   There were a lot of things that, added together, made him back away from the arrangement.  Chief amongst them being the guy telling him that he couldn't give him the actual address to the place to protect the owner's privacy.

He could be lucky and get his entire deposit back.  Or, not so much.  Either way, he learned a lesson.  

Trust.  But verify.

I admit it.

I tripped my way through ballet, tap and jazz classes in elementary school.

Somehow, I made it through track and cross-country without seriously injuring myself.  Other than the charleyhorse incident, of which we will never speak.

I even managed to get somewhat proficient at a martial art and learn the basics of belly-dancing.

But, deep down inside... I'm still a klutz.  Just when I'm starting to think I'm graceful and poised, something like reaching for a can of Diet Pepsi making the wall of cans come crashing down around me reminds me that I've still got it.

Yep.  Klutzy is forever.

I admit to as much ego as the next person. Normally, it's the people around me that keep me grounded in reality by helping me to remember that I'm just as flawed as anyone else.

Then there's Aikido.  It's been about 15 years since I've practiced regularly and, here in Afghanistan and even in Iraq, I've usually been the most experienced person on the mat.

Which leads me to last week.  The instructor here is leaving and one of the senior students (I don't know his history nor he mine) was leading the stretching, rolls and breakfalls.  He corrected me on my backwards roll, which I know sucks, and I felt a spurt of resentment.  It took me a second to realize that correction isn't bad and it's not personal.  Wrong is wrong, right? So where was the root of my resentment?

My ego.  That darned thing getting in the way again. 

Everyone has something to learn.  Everyone.  I remind myself that, even the verymost beginner has something to teach.  I just have to open my ears and eyes to it.

Someday, when I get my own room, I'm going to have a couple of things MY way.

I'll setup the room the way I want it.

I'll keep my things where I want them.

People won't come and mess with my stuff when I'm gone.

I'll be able to keep it as cold as I want in there. 

For Pete's sake, folks.  The tent does not have to have the heater set at 84 degrees.  I get in here and it feels hotter than Hades.  I like it to be slightly chilly - to the point where I snuggle under my blankets and possibly turn my electric blanket on.

Plus, the hotter I get, the crankier I get.  And nobody wants a cranky Shawn.  Nobody. 

*grin*