Celeb Fridge

Every month in Every Day with Rachael Ray, the very last page of the magazine has an article called "Celeb Fridge." It's probably my favorite part of the whole magazine. I can't explain it. I stare intently at the picture trying to decipher how much of that crap they did just for the picture. Nobody really keeps decorative bowls of uncovered food in their fridge...do they? Anyway, I decided to do my own Celeb Fridge, just for you.
Note: Do not enlarge the picture. If it's dirty in there, I don't want you to know about it.

Hey, Ashley! Your fridge looks way too neat. Did you arrange it perfectly just for your readers?

Yes. It was tough. Everything is in alphabetical order by food group.
Just kidding.

What's your favorite thing in the fridge right now?

Honey roasted turkey and string cheese!

What's that in the bottom left drawer?

I have no idea. I think that's where I used to keep taco stuff. It's a safe bet that the drawer hasn't been opened since January. Thanks for asking.

Don't you ever cook?

No.

Why didn't we get to look in your freezer?

We all know what hot pockets look like.

What does anyone do with one slice of Kraft American Cheese?

Nothing. That's why it's still in there.

Are there any go-to ingredients you always keep around?

Yes- milk, eggs, butter, BBQ sauce, and cold water. Those are the only things guaranteed to be in my fridge at any given moment.

Is there anything else you'd like to say about your fridge?

Someday I will have one with an automatic ice maker. Until then...no ice for me. Or any of you that visit. I don't believe in ice cube trays. And Germans don't believe in icy drinks. All's well that ends well.

This concludes this month's edition of Celeb Fridge. Questions, comments, concerns, and suggestions may be submitted to the author.

And don't worry. I won't do this every month.

Not Me! Mondays....

Several ladies out there in the blogosphere have been doing Not Me! Mondays (started by MckMama...http://mycharmingkids.net/). The point is to share silly or embarrassing things you've done recently but add "Not Me" in the sentence. For example: "This past week I did not run smack into the automatic door because I was walking way faster than it was opening...." I find reading them quite hilarious. Some of them, anyway.

I don't have anything much to write about, so I thought I would participate. It being Monday, and all. Here goes:

Earlier today, I most certainly did not march myself straight to the Nah and Gut to buy three bags of.....

Oh forget it. Who wrote a blog today?

Not me.

My favorite part of running....

I recently read an article about a beginning runner who, after fifteen months of running, had a break-through. Suddenly he was running and it didn't even FEEL like he was running....gone was the shortness of breath, the pain in the calves, the being-chased-by-a-bear heavy breathing....he had found a rhythm....and actually, finally, enjoyed running.

Even though I've been forced to run for over five years now, I still consider myself a beginner. I very rarely find myself enjoying my runs. I try desperately to think of other things besides the sweat in my eyes, the people at the beer garden on a Friday night who are laughing at the loser running by, the shoe that's not tied quite tight enough for my liking but if I stop to fix it I will walk the whole rest of the way so I can't, the Rolaids I would've paid one hundred dollars for if someone had offered them from a street corner as I passed....you get the idea.

So tonight I found myself in a position of absolutely, positively needing to run. I'll spare you the gory details, but it involved watermelon and gummy bears.....lots of it. My intentions with the watermelon were good- I read a recipe for a watermelon feta salad....but somehow the feta and salad part got tossed aside in the heat of the moment and were replaced by....gummy bears. 2-3 hours later, when I finally managed to get myself in a standing position with shoes on, I decided to ponder on what my favorite part of running might be.

I jogged down the street, happy to have something to think (and later blog?) about.

My iPod blared out "Open Arms" by Journey. Next. "Baby Blue" by George Strait. Next. "If You're Reading This by Tim McGraw. NEXT. Sunday Morning Coming Down, by Johnny Cash. What the.... That'll teach my to head out without a playlist. While I will not run without it, music is not my favorite part about running.

I came to a downhill slope....and for a brief second I almost smiled....DOWNHILL! This could be a favorite! Only then my knee started to hurt and I started to run bowlegged. Scratch that idea.

I've heard women talk about how cute clothes motivate them to go to the gym. So I tested that theory for a few steps in front of a storefront window. I tell you what, running can make the cutest clothes look awful. Something is always riding up, or lifting up, or rubbing wrong... Nope, clothes are not my favorite part of running. In fact, if one little thing feels remotely off I will immediately stop running and walk all the way home. Yeah, I am that dedicated.

What else is there? There's sweating.. Sunburn. Spit (or is that just me?). Sore legs. Side stitches. Shakes, rattles, and rolls. Talking myself through it. Out loud. Breathing. Not breathing and wondering if I'm doing my body more harm than good with this whole running thing.

I kept thinking about what I might like about running all the way home (trust me, I had plenty of time). When I finally got there, I found it:


My favorite part of running: Lying down in front of the fan and knowing I did it. I'm done. At least until tomorrow.

Oh, deer.

My father-in-law, Tony, has a problem. Every year, the deer ravage his sweetcorn as if he personally planted each stalk for their benefit. Well, this year, Tony decided to step up his game:

Meet the Corn Fence of 2010. Bigger, better....electric. Eat that, deer.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the pond, I've come up with my own ingenious way to keep the deer out of the corn....





Tony, you're going to be soooo jealous that you didn't think of this first.







Yeah....that's right. And it tastes just as good, too (keep saying it...it will become truth....keepsayingit).


.........Too corny?? ahahahahahahaha.

1742

As long as I can remember, I've had an internal alarm clock that wakes me up a minute or two before my alarm goes off. Well, this morning either I had something important to do at 4:33 in the morning or the system is broken. So I closed my eyes to the glaring SUNSHINE (yes, Germany has about four and a half hours of total darkness right now) and went back to sleep. The next time my "alarm" woke me up, it was ten in the morning! That is so not like me. I guess it's because I've been staying up half the night. The same thing happened to me after my work trip to Houston in February- I turned into a night owl for a couple weeks. I'm not even sure what I do between the hours of 10pm and 2am. Mainly I sit around and scratch feverishly at my poison ivy. Last night I wrapped my legs in Ace bandages to keep from scratching myself to the point of bleeding. That lasted about five minutes. So I tried to put one of Ted's socks over it (sorry honey). I was able to fall asleep that way, but this morning the sock was on the floor next to my bed and there was dried blood on my leg. Oh well, I tried. The good news is, the poison ivy is healing. Luckily, it never got even close to being as bad as my mom's. Someone should tell her to quit growing that stuff in the flower garden. ;)

Back to my day. I woke up at ten, and I can't even remember what I did all day. I do know I went for a run, and that was a major feat today. So anyway, since I'm lacking the details and you don't want to hear them anyway, let's fast-forward a bit. I decided I needed to go to town for some groceries, and I pulled up to the gate and handed the man my ID card. I tried to say hello, but all that came out was a croak. I suddenly went into panic mode. Is this the first time I've used my voice all day?!?!
I looked at the clock in the car. 1742 (5:42pm). I spent the rest of the drive to town replaying my day through my head, trying to decide if it was really possible that I hadn't made a single sound all day long. I didn't have the radio on, so no singing out loud to the radio... Speaking of which, Alison, can you please tell The Hawk that I am deeply perturbed that they cut my ability to listen live sometime within the last month?! Anyway, I pulled into the grocery store, managed to park my car without running over ANY pedestrians, despite being out-of-sorts, and grabbed my phone. The phone! That's it!! Someone called me around 2:30, and I answered! Hallelujah. All was right in the world once again.

Except with my washing machine. Something is definitely not right with that. Somebody please tell me how to get rid of that awful smell in the drum or I'm never doing laundry again. In which case, the washer won't be the only thing with an awful smell.

Time is now 2054 (8:54 PM). I need to start my new bedtime ritual. Hot bath (actually cold bath, or lukewarm at best- does that negate the sleepy side-effects?), lavender lotion, warm milk (I hope that's not the key to success, because I really won't be having anything to do with warm milk), clean sheets, prescription poison ivy cream, boring DVD(s?)....if I start now, maybe I'll be asleep by 1 AM tonight. Sweet dreams!

Mirror, Mirror on the...coffee table?

We don't have a bedroom set. We don't have a fancy dining room set or even end tables. I'll tell you one thing, though. Upon our return to the states, the very first piece of furniture I'm going to shop for is going to be a vanity set. I simply cannot put on my makeup or even do my hair while standing. Or without a fan blowing directly on me. Or without snacks within arm's reach, apparently. Or without a TV. Preferably one that has TLC and News Channel 8.

I'm not high maintenance. Really.

Oh, and if you've ever wondered what albino eyelashes look like (it's a rare and delicate thing, I know)...just click on this picture.

Maybe she's born with it....maybe it's Maybelline. 100% of the time. People like me keep the mascara manufacturers in big business.

I've come to the conclusion that I will have blonde hair forever- at least until it turns white to match my eyelashes. Surely God must already know that BROWN eyelashes go with brown hair. Surely.

Anywaaaayy.... the microwave just dinged. My gourmet hot pockets are ready.

God Bless America

I hope you all had a memorable holiday weekend! The Fourth of July is always one of my favorite holidays. There's just something about it: summer, tan lines, tank tops, hot dogs, and BBQ Lays (I can do those year-round...just sayin'), friends, family, fireworks......memories.

Last year we watched the fireworks from the parade field in Grafenwoehr. Tony and Jenny were with us, and we had just made the drive back from Austria....

The year before that, Ted was living at Ft. Sill, and we spent the fourth watching Lynard Skynard in the Oklahoma heat....

A few years before that I was watching the fireworks on a parade field in South Carolina, somewhere towards the end of Basic Training....my battle buddies and I unable to keep our eyes open, even for the show....a testament to our exhaustion....

And it seems like just yesterday I was watching the fireworks on Lake Red Rock, waving sparklers over the side of the boat.


Another July 4th has gone by, and next year I can look back on it and all the lovely fireworks....oh wait. I didn't see any. They weren't until 10:45 pm (supposedly) so I went home. I thought for sure I would see or at least hear them from my house, since I can hear artillery all the time. I thought wrong. I think they ended up canceling them (that way I don't have to feel bad about missing anything). However, Gary Sinise was in town for the festivities! My friend Jennifer called to invite me to a BBQ to watch one of the World Cup soccer games, and she mentioned that Gary Sinise was doing a tour of our company, and as a LT's wife, I was welcome to come. I was like, oh, that's nice.......so what should I bring to the BBQ?
I had no idea who Gary Sinise even was. I honestly thought he was in the chain of command somewhere. That probably doesn't surprise anyone who is reading this. Least of all, my husband. Pop culture is not so much my thing. So yeah, I missed out on my chance to get my picture with Gary. He was there with his band, The LT Dan Band (you know, LT Dan from Forest Gump?!). It was a great show- great music, great weather....and I'm not going to say anything about the hamburgers. The band did covers for songs like Sweet Home Alabama, Don't Stop Believin...we've all heard it a million times before. But for all of us there, it was just right. Several members of the band can sing, and they all took turns being the lead (or whatever the heck you call it...Music isn't my thing either. What is my thing?!). Oh, and we learned that CSI New York is filmed in LA. In case you're wondering. And I learned that Gary Sinise is on CSI. Haha. Ohhhh, Ashley (shaking my head).

Gary Sinise

The LT Dan Band

Tracy, Me, Michaela, & Jennifer

Bad video quality...but good song.
Nothing like hearing it amongst soldiers and their families.

(even though the video says 0:00 if you push play it will go)

~God Bless the USA~

The Rest of the Story

Well, I made it back to Ramstein at about 1pm today. Frankly I am quite surprised, but glad nonetheless. As I said yesterday, there were 60 available seats at BWI...and I sat there and listened to them call off sixty names that weren't mine. I really couldn't believe it. They were in my category, so I like to think I would have been next in line.... But it wasn't to be. In fact, lots of people didn't get on the plane. So we had to go to Plan B. Which, of course, I didn't have one. I walked up to the nearest group of people and asked them what their plan B was....and it turned out to be a smart move, because they are the reason I made it back so soon! Tavi and Robert had been trying to get out since Sunday, but they are a CAT V and nobody was ever getting called below a III. They were pretty frustrated at this point. Tavi said she heard a flight was leaving from Andrews, MD at 9 pm and she was thinking of taking a shuttle there. After hearing the next flight leaving from BWI to Ramstein was July 5th, I was game for anything. So Robert, Tavi and I split a shuttle to Andrews AFB. It was about a 45 minute ride. I was really starting to wonder if we were going to make it there in time to even be checked in, because there were three other people on our shuttle going to various other places near Washington D.C. I decided to just go to sleep so I could quit worrying. I woke up from my little nap, and we were stopped. I could see the gates to the air force base off in the distance, and I told the driver that's where we need to be. He told me he had to stop where he was, and that he couldn't get on base. I asked if he could at least drive a little closer to the gates, and he was like, "What?". I told him to forget it and tried to mess up his seatbelt or smear fingerprints all over the windows on my way out but it didn't work. All I ended up doing was smashing my butt in the woman's face next to me. She could've gotten up to let me out..... I'm just saying.
Anyway, the van pulled away and there we were, rolling our luggage down the road towards the front gate. You could tell all three gaurds were looking and laughing at our little gypsy caravan, and probably wondering what in the world we were attempting to do. We finally got up there, and I threw my pillow on the ground (the pillowcase should just be thrown away at this point--who travels with a white pillowcase?? Me.) and said in my most exhausted voice (no acting necessary), "Where's the air terminal?"
All three guards burst out laughing.
I said, "Can we walk there?"
They were practically rolling on the ground.
"Do you have the number to a cab?"
No.
Robert, Tavi and I just stood there looking at each other.
"You're sure we can't walk there?"
One of the guards said, between laughs, "Ma'am, if you walk, you'll get there just in time to see your plane taking off." Hahahaha. Hilarious.
Then the guards wanted to know why the shuttle didn't bring us to the terminal. We told them the driver said he wasn't allowed on base, and the guards told us they just let a shuttle on about ten minutes before we got there.

Mark my words, no one in my family will be using Super Shuttle ever again. You could call it a boycott.

Then the other guard informed us that you must be marked present two hours prior to departure. Talk about a sinking feeling.... I thought about just asking where lodging was instead.

Meanwhile, the third guard was checking someone's ID card and I overheard him say, "Sir, these people are in trouble."

Yeah, that'd be us. I waved.

Next thing you know, a very nice Captain was loading our bags into his jeep. I'm so thankful for the kindness of strangers! He brought us right to the passenger terminal, and we checked in at 8:30. At 9, an airman called me up and asked me how much I weighed, and if I were to be selected, would I like a box lunch? I told him I'd take two, and took that as a pretty sure sign that I made it on the flight. Unless they decided I was too heavy, in which case I would never eat again.

At 9:10, my name was the third of thirty-five to be selected. You'd think I had just won the lottery! In fact, almost everyone in the terminal "won the lottery," because most of us didn't make the cut at BWI. Guess what? There were thirty-five seats in the terminal, and thirty five seats on the plane. Can't ask for better than that!

We got on the bus to be driven out to board the plane, and we got a little safety briefing. If "bad smells, bad air, or anything else fills the plane, please put on this hood. If you're small and have to pull it down to your feet, please do so. Please note: it will be VERY tight on your neck. Do not panic."

Cool. Fellow passengers, please keep bad smells limited to the latrine area only. Thank you.

We also got told that we were free to spread out around the plane once we got to cruising altitude. However, if we heard the si-reen (Siren), we needed to rush back to our seats and buckle up. Si-reen? Where is this guy from? Okay, I'll keep my ears open for the si-reen. Dude.

To my delight, we were taking a C-17. That meant I could lay on the floor anywhere I wanted to! I didn't realize at the time that the floor reaches sub-zero temperatures. I was smarter than most and had brought a blanket and pillow, but I still had to defrost myself before I could stand up. Good thing no si-reens went off. It felt like I didn't sleep at all, but I must've, because somehow a nine hour flight was WAY shorter than the four hour drive afterwards.

Some of the passengers enjoying naps or box lunch picnics

Hey, whatever works! Really, I loved traveling this way. Next time I'll try to bring a sleeping bag and mittens though. :)

There you have it- the rest of the story. Now that I'm back in my apartment, I guess I can officially say: The End.