The Pageant Job

2002 I competed Jr. Miss. I was awarded “Spirit of Jr. Miss” sort of the Miss Congeniality award. It was okay that I didn’t win. I’d decided to participate to expand my horizons. I was a tom boy and some of my classmates would tease me for never wearing a skirt or doing anything remotely girl-like. Jr. Miss was the first thing I did to challenge myself and step outside my comfort zone. I still look back on the experience as one of the main events that shaped who I became. I got to know and was accepted by the girls I thought were the “popular” ones. I proved to myself that I could do things I was afraid of, that I could make new friends, and that I could have fun the whole time. That pageant really helped bring me out of my shell and I am so thankful that I pushed myself to do it.

Matt and I went to his sister’s Jr. Miss pageant last night. I entertained myself by texting a play-by-play of the show.

7:02pm – Slutty mom? Check! No mic? Check! Let’s get started!

7:04pm – Opening number: the thriller dance.

7:04pm – The robot smiles look scary.

7:07pm – Someone buy Timberlake a new PA system. BTW it smells like feet in the cafeteria.

7:15pm – Round 2: Poise…to the song from Rent. Yay! AIDS!

7:16pm – For my Jr. Miss poise we got to waltz with real boys. These poor girls just get to stomp around in their prom dresses.

7:20pm – Just have the girls wander aimlessly around the stage to the music from Titanic before they answer the same question, the exact same way.

7:22pm – Matt says the girls are wearing long dresses so they can go barefoot and not walk like cows. It’s not helping some of them. Moo.

7:24pm – Great. The AIDS song again.

7:27pm – Girls hear my thoughts and please put your shoulders back. You look humpbacked.

7:33pm – Coming up….talent!

7:35pm – Bass guitar…maybe it sucked because it was Metallica.

7:36pm – Romeo & Juliet in Spanish? First, it was based in Italy and written by an Englishman – get it right. Second, no subtitles allowed in North Idaho. Speak English or get out.

7:39pm – I think this girl’s poem is about the Twilight Saga.

7:41pm – Does EVERYONE play the harp? There was one for ’03 too.

7:42pm – Woot! Just what this show was missing! A Hannah Montana dance!

7:45pm – Interpretive dance to One Republic’s Apologize. I HATE this song and it chases me EVERYWHERE!

7:47pm – Skateboarding, Rubix cube solving girl should win the talent round…she won my heart.

7:51pm – Cait, you are silly and your talent made everyone laugh. (She did a spoof of a Taylor Swift SNL skit)

7:52pm – Round 3: Fitness…to a Grease/Footloose mashup.

7:59pm – Footloose…Seniors ’03! Yeah! (For homecoming my senior year the Class of 2003 did a lip sync and dance to Footloose. It was so awesome we were the only class ever asked to perform at homecoming halftime.)

8:35pm – And just like that it’s over. Cait won 2^nd place, Spirit of Jr. Miss, and the interview portion. Woo Cait!

The Emotional Baggage Job

Time with Matt’s family is always weird, but last night possibly topped the cake. Usually there is unending talk of conservative conspiracy theories, sports, or other mostly superficial topics. It is rare for one’s feelings and emotions to ever be acknowledged. But that made last night nightmarishly beautiful for me to witness. Matt’s family actually opened up and shared. It started as a bit of fatherly advice and for the first time no one interrupted. Everyone recognized that what was happening was like seeing a miracle first hand; everyone who witnessed it would know it happened but the rest of the world would deny the scientific capability.

After Mark was done, Grandmother jumped in to give him a pat on the back. She is probably the most in touch with her emotions and the importance of sharing them with your family, but I had to keep from laughing because of the way that she matter-of-factly put it. Then the door was opened and everyone at the table had some touching family memory or apology they had to share. By the time our waitress returned with change (which may have taken a little longer considering the state we were all in) we had all cried. Yes, people, my in-laws have tears. I didn’t share any family revelation of my own, but I got to cry along with the rest of them because of my inability to be stoic when someone near me has a waterfall coming from their eyes.

The whole train wreck was still really special for me to witness. I never thought about what it’s like for families who don’t regularly share these things with each other. I guess I just figured that they went on to live emotionally broken lives. I was raised in a family that liberally uses the ‘L’ word. My folks are generous with hugs and easily tell Matt and me when we do something that makes them proud. It doesn’t lessen the meaning of any of it, but it seems ordinary to me. This is probably one of the reasons I see Matt’s family as unfeeling robots and have difficulties feeling included by them. If this is what happens every time they have meaningful conversations I would be scared to share any of it too! No one wants to be the family sitting in the corner of the restaurant crying into their wine glasses. It’s embarrassing.

Now I know what happens when alcohol is added to the Nichols’ family and I don’t plan on making that mistake again. At the very least though, I can be thankful that I didn’t have to hear about how awesome Sarah Palin is.

The Brett Favre Job

We all know that Matt’s family is a bunch of football fanatics. They’re Texans, so when it comes to football they are all certifiably insane. And when you can’t make crazy people join the rest of the world you tend to have to join them. So this football season I was taking notes. I was asking (stupid) questions(ie “What’s a route?”) and little by little I was starting to understand the game that makes them seem like obsessed weirdos.

The relationship between Brett Favre and I started when I was in the 7^th grade. It was 1997, the year he took the Green Bay Packers to the Super bowl. At the time I knew far less about the game than I do now and when my friends were talking about their “teams” at the start of the season I decided to make the Packer’s mine. It was an entirely random choice, but I watched every one of their games right up to their Super bowl victory. That year I probably should have been picking race horses at the track for my dad. Never the less for one glorious, record making season I loved Brett Favre. Then, this year at nearly 40 he signs with the Vikings and suddenly I’m hooked again. I watched Brett Favre work his magic over and over and I was finally interested.

I wasn’t following the Vikings by any means this season, but I was elated when Matt told me they had made it to the playoffs. So Sunday we sat down together to watch them play the Saints. I didn’t realize it when it was happening, but suddenly Matt and I were actually bonding through something that he enjoyed. I held my breath as the ball flew through the air on every pass, I was yelling at Peterson through our TV every time he fumbled, I was livid at the horrible call giving the Saints a touchdown when they were clearly outside the end zone, and when the Vikings lost in overtime I was truly disappointed. It hadn’t occurred to me that being so emotionally invested in a game could be so much fun…but just when you’re doing it with someone you care about. I didn’t realize the turning point until Matt told me he had been talking about it to the guys at work. I didn’t think he’d noticed, but he was really impressed and that made me feel really good.

London Calling: Part Punt-Your-Own-Cam

I was really happy we were able to sleep in on Saturday. After getting less than 5 hours’ sleep for most of the week and even less the night before (thanks to all the snoring), staying in bed until 9am was very welcome. We met Grandmother & Ron at the RAF Lakenheath base hotel around 10am. Matt drove us all to Bury where we showed them around the Abbey ruins (thankfully they didn’t want to go into the cathedral there), walked them through the market, and showed them the Nutshell (Britain’s smallest pub). Of course they had to sit in the pub and have a beer. They drink so much. It’s annoying because they don’t drink a large quantity they just drink frequently. It’s felt like almost every two hours they’re asking us where a nearby pub is. It’s kind of strange.

Grandmother was making a big deal about seeing the Cambridge University campus. None of us were interested what-so-ever. Matt and I aren’t very familiar with Cambridge, except for Chili’s, so we got all turned around trying to find the campus for them. When we finally did there were no parking spots and Matt had to drive over the river. We had no idea where we were in relation to the University when we got out of the truck. We were next to Jesus Park and it was such a nice day I thought that maybe we would all just walk around the park and have a relaxed afternoon. Oh no. Grandmother was on a freaking mission. She marched us all across the park and up a bunch of random roads. When they finally stopped I had to ask where the heck we were going. She turned around to snap at us that they were going to find the campus and that we could just go wait by the car. I’m so glad that we were there to chauffeur them around! Ron said something about how they were making their way toward one of the church steeples that they thought was on the campus, and Matt tried to politely point out that there were three almost identical steeples in the area. Eventually we all headed back to the park where we made a somewhat slow way through. Matt, Cait and I were cornered by Ron who had to point out a lock on the river, dismiss it as primitive because it had to be operated by hand, and then explain how the more sophisticated lock and dam systems work. Holy crap.

On the way back to base we stopped at The Chequers pub to satisfy their desire for alcohol. One of the bar girls asked if Cait was Matt’s girlfriend. Most people can’t get that one wrong considering how I stick out like a sore thumb from his family; what with my bright red hair and completely opposite interests. But we can’t deny that there are idiots in the world. Matt’s ego was pumped for a little while because it was so obvious that the bar maid was trying to hit on him. We spent the evening at the hotel, eating pizza, trying to hold our tongues.

Because Grandmother doesn’t catch on to sarcasm she totally freaked out when Cait told her that we didn’t feed her that morning. I felt really horrible. I know that Cait was joking, but it just added to Grandmother’s annoyance about there being no places available for breakfast in the area. No, there is not an IHOP. No we are not going to drive 20 minutes to Bury to spend £4 on a croissant with jam. Anyway. Grandmother insisted that she cook breakfast for everyone the following morning. On Sunday we all took our sweet time getting ready because nothing was planned for the day (as usual). Matt drove Cait the long way around the village to the front gate of the base so she would get to experience his FTO. He was pretty disappointed that she didn’t say anything the entire ride. After breakfast was finished I was really happy that both our vehicles were there. Ron was making it very obvious that he was annoyed with our tardiness and was throwing a rather juvenile temper tantrum. While we were waiting around I asked if they had transferred their photos to their laptop yet or if they were still on their camera because I would like to get copies before they left. Ron rudely interrupted and said that he doesn’t like “raw” photos and preferred to put them into a Power Point presentation. Power Point? Really? I told him that I prefer the “raw” photos so I can edit them on Photoshop. He cut me off to snap “well I’ll just put them on the Power Point disc then after we get back.” Matt and Cait both realized how rude this was, but at the time I wasn’t sure if anyone had. I’m pretty sure that my eye twitched a little as I swallowed the sharp comments flying through my head.

It was Ron’s insistence on sitting and finishing his coffee when everyone was ready to go that made me decide that I couldn’t spend the day jammed in a vehicle with them. We had made a loose plan to grill for dinner at our house so I came up with an idea to run errands and go home to prepare side dishes on my own while Matt showed them around his work. It wasn’t until later that I realized I should have invited Cait along. She would have enjoyed getting groceries with me and chopping onions a lot better than the military tour that she got. I was so relieved to finally have some time to myself. It’s pretty sad when you’d prefer to do chores than spend another moment with family members, but I’m sure that everyone experiences that at some point or another. I certainly don’t feel guilty about it. I had a big glass of red wine while I made pasta salad and enjoyed a second once everything was finished and I still had a little while to myself. It was just the strength I needed to make it through the rest of the evening with them.

After our cookout I had the great idea to light the fire pit and do s’mores. In any other company it would have been a wonderful evening, but Grandmother and Ron just have the most wonderful way of turning a compliment into an attack. They were asking Matt questions about our plan to buy a house in Spokane and Matt lovingly threw me the floor so I could share the massive amounts of research and preparation I’ve done for our next milestone. Ron got as close to a compliment as anyone can expect by saying “well it sounds like you’ve really done your research.” But just as that was sinking in and making me feel good Grandmother jumped in to attack me by asking what happens if Matt is re-stationed a year or two after we arrive (which isn’t a possibility because our orders will probably be a minimum of three years and it is harder to get re-stationed within the US especially at higher ranks) and barking about how it just isn’t possible for Matt’s career path to stay in one place for so long. When I tried standing up for myself she started going on about how Matt’s career is our retirement and that we need to stick with that. I’m so tired of hearing about our retirement. Matt and I haven’t even had kids yet, how can anyone possibly be expecting for us to be fully considering our retirement right now. Sure, we’ve got some things in the works, but you really expect me to give up every little thing so that Matt can follow his career path? What about me? No one’s even considered that I might be the one funding our retirement! I haven’t even had a chance to try for a career yet because our life so far has been all Air Force, Air Force, Air Force. But please. We’re 24 for crying out loud! Will someone please give us some time to be young for a little while?

I can’t even express how happy I was when we dropped them off at the Epping Tube station. I was sad to see Cait go. She is such a sweet girl and I’m so excited to spend more time getting to know her when we move, but it was a relief for it to be just me & Matt again. We’ve spent the past couple of days being total bums. We rented 7 movies on Tuesday and had a couch-athon. We tossed around the idea of going to the London Zoo, but Easter crowds are deterring us, not to mention that we’re totally burnt out on the hour drive to Epping and the hour ride on the underground to central London. I’m so disappointed that we haven’t had a proper vacation yet. I keep thinking that maybe the move will help or that I can just hold out until we get back to the states and then we can do three days in Seattle, but I’m really longing for someplace I can soak up the sun and do absolutely nothing. Maybe it would help if I could do just that in our own back yard. Who knows?

London Calling: Part 257 Steps? Okay, Just Kill Me Now.

Because of the non-stop snoring from the night before I was operating on maybe 2 hours of sleep and zero patience. I’m surprised I was able to keep my mouth shut. The five of us had breakfast at the hotel. Matt and I were excited that they had cooked to order omelets. Then we went to the National Gallery. I spent a good amount of time looking at their collection of impressionists, but I really couldn’t enjoy much else. I’m not a fan of realist paintings, or the extremely religious ones which make up the majority of the collection held there. I tried to keep my distance from our group. I was quite sure that most of the art was entirely wasted on them and I wasn’t going to be able to tolerate their comments. It was almost too much when Grandmother started commenting on the medieval clothing depicted in a painting of the birth of Jesus. “I just don’t understand why they can’t get the period right. They should be wearing Middle Eastern clothing, not English garb.” I can’t believe how literal she has to take everything. She even had to continue arguing the point even after I told her that the painting was commissioned by a church who probably specified what was in it. Let’s all just pretend to be open-minded right?

Matt was able to find the self portrait of Rosa Salvator with the quote he fell in love with the last time we were there. AVT TACE/AVT LOQVERE MELIORA/SILENTIO “Be silent, unless your speech is better than silence.” Just another twist on the familiar saying of “If you don’t have anything nice to say….” Funny how long people have been dolling out that advice…and ignoring it.

Ron made a huge deal about going to St. Paul’s cathedral. Matt and I are so uninterested in churches. I enjoy the architecture, but we both found out quickly that they are all pretty much the same inside; dead people, creepy paintings on the ceiling, blatant hypocrisy. None of that is anything to waste our time on. Ron had to tell us all on random useless things about the place. Some of it may have been interesting if he could have told us in a way that didn’t make us feel like we flunked out of school. My feet hurt so bad that I thought about just cutting them off and just when I thought that I would get a break from the agony I was forced up 257 steps to the whispering gallery. I wanted to die. When we finally reached to the top I got the spins, not something you want to have when your inches from falling to your death. Matt, Cait, and Ron quickly continued up another 127 steps that led them outside the cathedral’s dome where they took photos of the city. When they rejoined myself and Grandmother (who had barely said three words to me while we were alone), Cait and Matt decided to try out the famous tale about the gallery. It’s said that the acoustics are so good that a person can stand on one side of the gallery and their whispers can be heard by someone standing on the opposite side. This is true, but today one has to cup their hand and aim their whispers directly into the wall in order for it to reach across the dome. It instantly cheered me up when a whispered ‘I love you’ reached my ears from Matt.

When we were all finally outside again Grandmother and Ron wanted to visit the gift shop, which happened to be at the bottom of yet another set of stairs. I stopped at the top of them, threw my hands up and declared “I’m out.” Matt took the opportunity to grab a Starbucks and Cait came with me to get some British soft serve from an ice cream truck that was parked nearby. I couldn’t believe how creamy the ice cream was. I could hardly eat it all. It was fun sharing the experience with Caitlyn. It’s not every day that you get to have ice cream in London with your sister-in-law.

Matt and I were hoping to be heading north to our house in the early afternoon, which would have worked out if Grandmother hadn’t insisted on finding a pub or café to have drinks at near the cathedral, and if she and Ron hadn’t insisted on taking the city bus back to the hotel. Instead of it taking 5 minutes on the tube and a short walk to the hotel, we were on the bus for a good half hour (if not more) in rush hour traffic. When the bus finally stopped in the vicinity of their Hilton Matt, Cait, and I all sprinted to get to a bathroom. Once we had collected all our bags from the luggage counter it was still another 2 hours before we reached the bases. Because it was rush hour the tube was crowded and we all stood for most of the 40 minute ride to Epping. I could tell that Grandmother and Ron weren’t pleased, but it was totally their fault. It took a lot for me to not tell them to stop complaining. This whole visit has pushed me to the brink of insanity through self inforced silence.  They joys of family.

London Calling: Part Pajama-Party-Eh?

I am soooo freakin’ tired of being drug everywhere. We have done so much standing and waiting, and aimless walking because Grandmother & Ron can’t come up with a plan. They’re the ones who are hosting this trip for Caitlyn and yet Matt and I feel like we’re the only ones putting in the effort to make it enjoyable for her. We’re all getting really tired of how the two of them are constantly talking down to us all. Cait feels like this is more like a field trip than a vacation. Ron is full of random information, but he always seems to phrase things so the rest of us feel like idiots. He can’t just provide us with a random tidbit, he has to make everything sound like we’re taking a verbal exam and then he has to correct us in the most arrogant way possible. Oh, and forget about when he’s wrong. He’s always right. It’s getting really old. I can’t stand being treated like I’m 12.  Grandmother on the other hand has nothing to say about the history we’ve been visiting, but has to have an attitude about everything that we do. Several times she would scold me on the way that I spoke to Matt, these were usually times when I would say one of our inside jokes or be sarcastically teasing him and I really just wanted to snap at her.  I will speak to my husband any way I please and she needs to keep her opinions to herself. She also scolded Matt quite severely when he tried picking up a lance at the Tower of London. To him it appeared that it was part of a display that people were invited to touch, but even Ron joined in chastising him and saying that he would be harshly punished if someone caught him. Please. The worst that could possibly have happened would be that either someone would have told him not to touch things, or they would have asked us to leave. It’s not like he was trying to steal the crown jewels.

While we were touring the exhibit of King Henry VIII’s suits of armor Matt, Grandmother & Ron were cut off from myself and Cait by Secret Service who led the Canadian Prime Minister’s wife down some stairs. Grandmother spent a long time talking to one of the security personnel about the exhibit that was set up in the White Tower. She was extremely upset that because of the exhibit we didn’t get to see the actual use of the original castle. None of us really cared much, and by this time we had spent most of the afternoon walking around and my feet were ready to call it quits. The last hour before closing we went on a search for the stairs to take us to the top of the outer wall for pictures. Of course, they had to explore every random nook and cranny they came across once we were up the wall, but eventually we did stop for some pretty good pics.

After we were all kicked out of the Tower of London at closing we took the subway to Piccadilly Circle so Cait could see the big advertising screens. Matt wanted to take everyone to the Cheers restaurant, but we found that (thanks to the recession) it had closed down. We ended up at a TGI Friday’s trying to eat while the fire alarm kept going off. I was really impressed with the restaurants’ response…continue as usual. What if there had really been a fire? Matt had to have a Starbucks after dinner and Cait wanted to wander into the It-Fell-Off-the-Back-of-the-Truck mall. I was really happy when the place started closing up because it seemed like we never would have gotten out of there.

Grandmother & Ron insisted that we stay the night with them and I was very happy to get back to the hotel at a decent hour for sleep. Unfortunetly the bed was almost as bad as the one at the Best Western Trocadero in Paris, but it was Ron’s incessant snoring that kept Matt and I up almost the entire night. We giggled with Cait about it the following morning, but I was honestly considering ways to kill him or at the very least, trying to find something to throw at him. It was just the cherry on top of my day’s agony sundae.

London Calling: Part The-Queen-The-President-and-El-Presidente-Walk-Into-a-Pub

None of us realized that the G20 summit was being held while we were in London-town. On our (private) walking tour for the changing of the Calvary guard (which was supposed to be the changing of the guard) we saw the President of Mexico and his wife heading away from Buckingham Palace and later saw President Obama’s motorcade heading to see the Queen. It was surprising. I never thought I would see a president’s motorcade pass me on the street, let alone in another country. The changing of the Calvary guard was pretty lame. Our tour guide was so interested in the sound of his own voice that he kept us from seeing the last part. He walked us through the park, which was bursting with gorgeous spring flowers, and we all stood in front of the Palace while the guide went on and on and on. Cait rolled her eyes a lot. I really wanted to smack the guide. He was so arrogant.

I adore this picture of us.

After our long walk Grandmother & Ron were suckered into buying discount fish and chips vouchers from the tour company. Grandmother would comment regularly for the rest of their visit about making sure the fish was cooked to order next time. The rest of the afternoon we rode the tour bus around. I fell asleep in the back. Oh, come on. This is like the 10^th time I’ve taken that tour and you try waking up at 5am for people who have no plan and can’t stop bickering. Anyway, eventually Grandmother & Ron decided to ditch us because Ron had work to do on the computer and Grandmother was just plain cranky. Hard to believe they were on vacation at all.  So Matt and I took Caitlyn to the London Aquarium, which was severely disappointing. It was something different to do, but for £16 I really thought there would be more. Matt had fun putting his Shark Week knowledge to use.

I'm totally asleep here.

It was late in the day and for some reason Matt and Cait kept going on and on about Harrods. I really don’t understand the draw. I wasn’t exactly thrilled because my knee was bothering me quite badly, but I didn’t want to be a total party pooper. We were told by a ticket salesman for one of the tour buses that we’d missed our last bus (which was correct) and then he gave us directions for getting to Harrods by the Underground (which were utterly incorrect). He’d told us to get off at a stop that was much too far away from the store. Granted, it was on the same street, but I thought I was going to die on our trek.  Between stifiling what would have been horrendous cries of pain I could only imagine the ticket sales-guy laughing his ass off  about telling us the long way.  It took us so long to get there that we only had time for Cait to take a picture and then we rounded the corner and got back on the subway (where we should have gotten off in the first place). We met back up with Grandmother & Ron at the Hard Rock Café. I was hoping they might be late so I could get drunk, but they weren’t and according to the bartender there was too much sugar in my Pickled Tink to taste the vodka.  Thank God for enthusiastic waitresses who fetch extra vodka shots for crabby little redheads.