Now I Get It

I thought I was the shiznit in my 20's.  I mean minus the years I was married.  Then I was just a bitch.  But after my divorce at age...hmmm, how old was I when I got divorced?  I have no idea.  Regardless I had a group of friends that went out every weekend to da clubs.  I was a woo girl.  There were drinks and dancing and dinners out and cocktails, but this is mostly about da clubs and da dancing. 

Minus my drunk Britney outfit (it's unfortunate I couldn't find a picture cause I was H-O-T let me tell you) I thought most of my going out/dancing clothes were okay (i.e. low cut--the shirts not the jeans cause of the muffin top and all, boobs popping...ya know what I mean).  Granted, when I just cleaned out my closet I donated most all of said clothes to Big Brothers Big Sisters Foundation because I'm sure they'll get a lot of money for slutty tank tops and strapless bustiers.

But every weekend I always wondered why I never met any guys or only met douchebags.  And now I get it. 

It was (wait for it) the fact that I look like I'm having a seizure when I dance and none of my so called friends ever felt this was important enough to tell me.  The only reason I figured it out is thanks to Wii Zumba. 

Yesterday doing 45 minutes of Wii Zumba and thinking the whole time about why my knees hurt so bad I realized that I looked like a complete idiot (having my mouth hanging open the whole time because I have to concentrate so intently on what the lady on Zumba is doing doesn't help).  I have the rhythm of a drunk raccoon.  There is thrashing and gyrating and limbs flailing about uncontrollably and this really resembles closely my club dancing.  Sigh...

So now I get it.  Of course my club days are long over.  I can't imagine getting dressed up to go dancing now other than maybe on a cruise with my husband (because we are secretly 90 years old), but someday I'll regal Stinky with the stories of her mother's glory days.  Since her nickname is Stinky I'm sure she'll have to live vicariously through those stories. 

Deployment Days
I thought I would have much more to say about Paul's deployment.  We are both supposed to be documenting his deployment in blog format while he's gone plus writing each letters once a week and mailing them (I mailed my first one today) so we can someday give them to Stinky. 

I guess it still doesn't really feel like he's going to be gone for 6 months.  Yes conceptually I know he's in Afghanistan, but I can sort of fool myself into thinking he's on a regular TDY still.  We got to talk for almost an hour today!  Yes, talking about flying in helicopters and villages is not part of his typical TDY.  I know that.  And sending packages of personal hygiene items, sheets, pillows, etc. are not part of a usual TDY. 

I guess it just doesn't seem real to me.  Having Stinky to take care of helps and trying to get the house organized (of course I'll probably finish in time for us to PCS next summer) keeps my mind off of what Paul is doing. 

At night though, in bed with the lights out, then my mind wanders and sometimes there is a tear or two.  I do miss Paul.  Much more than I can eloquently put into words.  He is my other half and he's halfway around the world.  I just want him home with me and Stinky where he belongs.