Tag Archives: Special Forces

I Locked Cupcakes in the Car and Didn’t Crack the Window

A few weeks ago, I locked my keys in the car. At work. Oops.

Luckily, my mom has an extra key. Unluckily, I work for the Special Forces, so there’s too much hassle security involved for her to bring me the key.

Cupcake Dangler (CD): Where are the cupcakes you baked?

Me: In my car. For safekeeping. With my keys.

I was going to walk to meet my mom because it’s only a mile off post. And then CD offered to drive me because he really wanted a cupcake.

Once we reached the key drop-off point, I called my mom from CD’s phone (because mine was locked in my car) to see where she was.

Me: Someone from work was nice enough to drive me….

CD: “Someone from work?” I’m hurt. I don’t get to meet your mom?

Me: I can’t tell my mom it was you!  Then she’ll save your phone number, and you’ll get random texts from her asking if I’m ok if she can’t get ahold of me. And that’s embarrassing.

Then later that day, my mom texted me this:

Mom: Was that him?

Me: Yep. Don’t save his phone number, ok?

Mom: Too late.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “This is eery. I JUST told my family I wanted eyelash extensions for Mother’s Day, and they laughed and laughed. And then laughed some more. Fuckers. I’m showing them all this post.”—Carmen

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Kill All the Trees!

A few months ago, I switched jobs. Same Special Ops location, different office, different coworkers.

One of my new coworkers is extremely…environmentally friendly.

Which is fine. I like the environment. However, I do tend to kill any plant I try to grow but not on purpose.

On the first day of work, my new coworker handed me a CD with some background documents to read, and he said, “I burned them onto a CD. Savin’ trees, you know?”

Fantastic. Only I didn’t have a computer yet.

The next day I had a few options:

  1. Print out the documents at home and bring them in to read. (My money.)
  2. Sit around and do nothing. (Your tax dollars!)
  3. Ask a coworker to print them out. (Also your tax dollars, but ink and paper is cheaper than my time.)

I opted for Option 3. Even now that I have a computer, I often still print out documents to edit. Instead of hiding from the coworker, I stand over the printer laughing maniacally saying…

Lindsey at Happy or Hungry drew this picture specifically for my post because she's awesome.

Lindsey at Happy or Hungry drew this picture specifically for my post because she’s awesome.

Kill all the trees! BWAHAHAHA!

I catch more mistakes on paper than I do on the computer monitor.

Holy macaroni! I can’t believe I missed that comma splice!

It’s the glow of the screen. It’s distracting.

Thoughtsy : Glowing Screen :: Bug : Bug Zapper

Haaaaaave you met Lindsey? She’s famous for the wedding piggy back fail.  And she just turned the Big 3-0, so you should go wish her a Happy Birthday! 


How To Buy a Swimsuit…Or Get Felt Up

Every time I travel I forget something. 99% of the time it’s my hairbrush. But on my Fort Lauderdale trip, I forgot a swimsuit.

So there I was…at the beach…without a swimsuit. Fail.

So I decided to buy a tankini. I picked out two tops.

Russian Clerk: This one’s too young for you.

Thoughtsy’s Thoughts: Did she just call me old?

Russian Clerk: But this one…It’s nice. What size are you? Small?

Thoughtsy’s Thoughts: Now she’s just trying to make up for calling me old.

Thoughtsy: Bwahaha! Uh…no. I have broad shoulders. At least a medium. Maybe a large.

Russian Clerk: The small should fit. You like this bottom? What size do you need? Turn around, and let me see.

Thoughtsy: Uh…. ::hesistantly spins so she can check out my butt::

Russian Clerk: Maybe a medium.

Thoughtsy’s Thoughts: Soooooo…I’m old…with small boobs and a fat butt. Great. 

In the dressing room, I try on the top and one of the dozen bottoms she gave me. Once I’m ready, she opens the curtain.

Russian Clerk: Can I adjust and show you how to wear this swimsuit?

Thoughtsy: Suuuuure….

Let me fill you in on a secret. “Adjusting” is code for the clerk shoving her hand into the front of the swimsuit and fondling your boobs until they’re in the right position.

BAD TOUCH! BAD TOUCH!

Later…when the clerk rung me up…

Russian Clerk: That’ll be $120.

Thoughtsy: What?! I don’t want to spend that much. Let me get a cheaper bottom.

Russian Clerk: The bottom is $59, and the top is $59…but I guess I could give you $20 off the bottom.

Thoughtsy’s Thoughts: Yes, let’s do that. Since I did let you touch my boobs.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “When I look at the margarita picture, I see normal-sized margaritas and tiny, tiny hands.”—Laura


Where the Soup of the Day is Tequila

I know I didn’t post last week, but I have a really good reason. Just give me second….

Oh!

The ear Esme attacked got infected. They had to amputate it. And now I’m destined to spend the rest of my life walking around cupping my hand to my good ear and saying, “Eh?”

Instant Canadian.

Psych! (Yes, I just said, “Psych!”)

My ear is fine. I went to Fort Lauderdale for…

  • Ice cream?
  • Work?
  • Giant margaritas?
  • A blogger meetup?

All of the above are correct. I went for my Special Ops Ninja job (Yes, that’s totally a real job), and while I was down there, I met Lorraine from The Late Party Girls.

She rocks. And she took me to Jaxson’s: Home of the Kitchen Sink Sundae. No, we didn’t get it. They won’t give you that gargantuan-sized sundae unless you’re in a party of 4.

Obviously, they had no idea who they were dealing with because Lorraine and I are semi-anonymous. If only they’d known who we really were, we’d have been the exception.

Not wanting to reveal our secret identities, Lorraine and I settled for two scoops…which ended up being the size of our heads.

Also, while I was in Florida, Ddot and I partook in margaritas….which were also the size of our heads.

Ddot illustrating a hand-to-margarita size ratio.

That should be Fort Lauderdale’s new slogan.

Fort Lauderdale: Where Everything Yummy Is the Size of Your Head.


Write a Letter of Appreciation Week

Dear Medics,

In the past, I’ve posted about the Soldiers who lost their lives in Iraq and Afghanistan, but today I’d like to thank you, the medics.

Awhile back I attended a Special Operations medical conference in Tampa. (See? I told you I was in the Special Ops with Pauly Shore.)

Several of the speakers at the conference were medics in Iraq or Afghanistan.

And those medics are stronger than I am. Why?

Not just because I tend to scream things like Ewwww! Blood! But because of triage.

Seeing there is nothing you can do to save a patient, having the patient beg you not to leave, and then moving on to the next person in hopes that you can save him. And doing that over and over again.

Why else?

  • Because you treated wounded children.
  • Because you couldn’t do anything for some of those children.
  • Because you held fellow Soldiers as they passed away.
  • Because although you did everything that you could, lives were still lost.
  • Because you do that day after day…again and again.

It’s not just military medics that do that, people in the civilian world (like fellow blogger Esme) do their best to save lives every day.

Thank you for not only saving lives, but also for trying.

Thoughtsy

Today is the last day of Write a Letter of Appreciation Week. Maybe write a thank you note to a medic, doctor, nurse, or anyone else that you think deserves it today.