"It's an Adventure"

Excerpt from a story I wrote years ago, "It's an Adventure"....

We were in the car going somewhere. I was ten years old. My daddy was weaving on a curvy back road. As I sluggishly opened my eyes, amazement encased me. I rubbed the crusty gunk stuck in my eyelashes and slowly lifted my head off of the back seat window. Outside the window, colonies of evergreen trees poked out of the mountains while birds danced on the snow-covered ground, leaving footprints. The trees swayed like ballroom dancers, moving in perfect time with their partners, the wind.

“Daddy, where are we?” I asked curious twirling my hair around my finger in high spirits. I looked at the dashboard of our black Ford Explorer. The clock flashed nine in neon green.

“We’re on an adventure!” he said mischievously. “Our first stop is McDonald's.”

            For an eight-year-old, McDonald's is a dream come true. I ordered a sausage biscuit. Daddy squeezed a mustard smiley face into my biscuit and brought Jonathan a bacon egg and cheese biscuit. It didn’t take a lot to please us and my dad knew all the tricks in the book. Over hash browns and ketchup, we kept asking questions about our destination but Daddy wouldn’t budge. Our questions wouldn’t stop until the answer was unwrapped.

Once we were all buckled up and ready to go again, my dad put in a Collin Raye cd that we all loved. The electric guitar began and we all jammed out.

“I think about you

 eight years old

big blue eyes and a heart of gold

when I look at this world

 I think about you

 and I can't help but see

that every woman used to be

somebody's little girl,

I think about you”

            At the time, I was eight years old and had big blue eyes. That song made me feel so special. It was like Collin Raye wrote it about me and my dad. As a child, it was easy to see that my dad loved me. We had conversations and laughed about everything. I still think of my dad when I hear that song no matter where I am.

            As I sang the song, out of nowhere, my brother yelped with excitement from the front seat. I didn’t know what was wrong with him until I looked ahead and saw a tunnel approaching. Then of course, I started bouncing with joy, too.

            “Honk the horn, honk the horn, Daddy!” we yelled. An eighteen-wheeler honked as other cars squeaked in unison. When the tunnel came to an end we were greeted with a sign, Welcome to West Virginia. My mind started racing. What was in West Virginia? Cows, snow, mountains…mountains, I thought.

            “Daddy we’re going snow skiing, aren’t we?” I bounced up and down with excitement, knowing I had solved the puzzle.

            “Might can,” he replied. This was his response for everything. Sometimes it meant yes and sometimes it meant no. But I knew he was just trying to keep playing the game for Jonathan.

            “Yea, snow skiing!” Jonathan clapped siding with his big sister.

            Jonathan and I weren’t experts, but we didn’t need lessons. We could pull off an intermediate slope effortlessly and manage to get down a black diamond without hurting ourselves too badly. We have my dad to thank for that and the many ski trips the three of us shared.

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That snow skiing trip to this day is one of my favorite memories with my Dad and brother. I cannot think of a better time we had together. Daddy woke us up at 4.30 in the morning to put us in the car. He had everything packed and didn't forget a thing. If he did, he must have improvised. Thanks for the trip, Dad! If you and Jon ever come to Japan, lets do it again!

Below is another snippet of "It's an Adventure" This is a memory I made while living with my dad in Nashville, Tennessee, one summer.

________________________________________________________________________

As soon as I moved all my stuff in for the summer, he showed me around Nashville; the bars, good bar-b-que restaurants, and the Opryland Hotel. It was then that I realized my dad was making out okay by himself. He had lots of friends and had fallen in love with Nashville’s charm.  With me here, he would get to show off for me like he used to. This time, instead of skiing backwards, he played guitar and met celebrities.

One night, he took me to a bar called The Stage after six p.m. In Nashville, bars close to minors at 6 p.m. I was under twenty-one and Daddy knew this.

“I need to see some identification,” the bouncer asked me.

I looked up at my dad confused. Why was he putting me in this awkward situation? Just then the band, Stony Run, walked out. Marty, the lead singer, put his arm around my shoulder.

“She’s with the band,” Marty told the bouncer.

I looked at the bouncer, surprised at his response. He covered his eyes with his hands. Daddy smiled at me and we walked in.

Daddy currently plays bass for two up-and-coming bands. He sets up stages for artists such as Journey, Rascal Flatts, Taylor Swift, and the Eagles, and drives tourists around on a Greyline tour bus, announcing the history of Nashville and its musical heritage. 

The lifestyle I encountered with Daddy that summer was unlike anything I have ever experienced. First of all, my dad is a party animal, and I never knew it. He loves the music scene of downtown Nashville. Most nights we easily stayed out until twelve or one listening to music, drinking beer (he made me drink sweet tea), and line dancing.

“Let’s learn this dance, Danielle,” he would say, so eager for Nashville to capture my heart,  as it had his. We made our way to the dance floor at the Wild-horse Saloon, decked out in western wear: boots, hat, and belt buckles. The song playing was Fishin’ In the Dark by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. The steel guitar wept its sweet melody as the bass guitar stroked in and the instructor began teaching us the steps. I couldn’t really see from where I was, so I followed my dad’s steps. Leg kick, boot tap, spin…What was Daddy doing? I looked around the dance floor and Daddy was definitely off. Maybe he was making up his own moves, but he was not keeping time well at all. I don’t think it mattered too much that his dancing skills weren’t up to par. We were having fun and spending time together.

Love and miss you Daddy, but I love all the calls, letters, and country weekly packages! And this song is for you...

Treadmill Catastrophe

 

 

 

Most embarrassing moment. Well, I can't give you that. I do odd things everyday. Weird, in fact. People probably roll their eyes, and think, "really, Greene." about half the things I do everyday. However, few moments are as hilarious as the memory that is about to unfold as I tell it.

I began going to the gym regularly while I was a college student at Western Carolina University in 2006. In 2006, the campus of Western was much different. The gym I went to was right across the street from Scott (the freshman dorm). The new gym had yet to be built. The reason why I loved going to the gym so much was because all the treadmills faced the guys lifting weights. Ladies, this makes my gym experience much more enjoyable! Well, as a couple years went by, I continued to attend the gym. When Western built a new gym I started going to it.

The problem with this new gym was the lay out of where the treadmills and ellipticals were located. Western, why would you position the treadmills facing toward the windows rather than the weight lifting section? I mean, really, which person decided that would be a good idea?

Anyways, one day I hopped on the treadmill in a pair of work out shorts and my favorite phi mu tee. And, I'm not gonna lie, I was looking and feeling pretty good. I was done with classes for the day and was ready for "me" time. I put my headphones in, and started warming up. After warming up for ten minutes or so, I increased my speed to 8.0. At 8.0, I shouldn't have been messing with my phone...

A sorority girl's schedule is very busy, to say the least. I probably had plans to meet Caro at the U.C. after my workout for dinner or something like that. As I was running, I was really in the mood and getting it to some 80's song. I hear my phone vibrate and slowly grab for it to see if it was Caro.

You know that feeling of falling? I don't mean the falling feeling while you're asleep. I mean, the legit, oh shit moment when you know you are about to bust ass.  The kind of split second of fear where moments flash before your eyes, kind of moment. All you can do is squint your eyes and pray to the good Lord that no one was watching you.

As I picked up my phone, I fumbled with it and it flew backwards, and somehow jammed itself underneath the treadmill behind me. In the process of dropping my phone, my body yanked itself off the treadmill.Awkwardly, my legs got tangled and my arms flailed everywhere. I tried to reach for the handrails, but to no avail. I fell hard! My head landed on the floor, cheek, about a foot away from the treadmill still racing away. My headphones were on, but I know I made a big thud going down. My heart raced and my face was burning up. I knew it turned red from embarrassment. Still laying on the ground like an idiot, I reached for my phone underneath the treadmill behind me.

Defeated, I did what any sensible person would do in similar situations, I did the quick look around. Before even catching my breath, I did a 360 degree investigation of the gym to find out who saw me sling myself off the treadmill. As  I looked around everyone's heads turned in different directions as I looked their way. I think they felt sorry for me "Shit," I thought, everyone saw! But, I knew if I left, I would leave defeated. I would leave sad and slowly looking like a dog disappointed with its tail between its legs. I picked myself up, got back on the treadmill and kept running. In terrifying moments like that, what would you do? Leave or keep going?

It was probably the longest run I've ever had in my life. I'm pretty sure I ran until I thought everyone else had left the gym. Today, you will never find me playing with my phone while running. And I also, don't run as fast on the treadmill either. It's a wonder I'm not traumatized by this event that took place in my life. You know they give out pills for post traumatic stress disorder. These days, I don't talk to people while I run. I listen to the whole song through on my ipod and even keep an eye my handrails. But, if you ever see me at the gym, I definitely still jam to my music and awkwardly dance while running.

PDA. Really?



PDA..

How much is too much?

NOTE: All rules go out the window where alcohol is concerned. For the purpose of this blog, I am not talking about the happenings of a bar but rather, out in town, restauraunts, and hang out spots free of liquor and beer.

We all love to show our love for our significant other, but is it appropriate to do so, in public? Is it really necessary to make out with your partner in spectrum while I am trying to concentrate on writing a blog or watch a movie. I am currently, happily single, but watching two people smack face, makes me want to vomit. PDA is a subject that is much debated. But, in my opinion, it is unnecessary, selfish and downright rude to others.

I am not a bitter cynic, lonely complaining for no reason. There are others, too, that are offended by these actions. So, the next time you consider to be all 'lovely dovey' with your partner. Here's a list of how I feel about certain displays.

As I am currently living in Japan, I might add, that the Japanese culture is not fond on pda either. Public displays of affection between members of the opposite sex—such as kissing, hugging and holding hands—are considered rude in Japan.

The Japanese word used by the older generation to describe a kiss literally translates to "approach the lips." Most young people say "kee-su." The Japanese pronunciation of the English word "kiss," is "choo" or "choo-choo." This translation comes from the sound a kiss makes to Japanese ears. All credit to this tid bit of information, can be found here, along with more interesting facts about dating in Japan.
 ---> http://factsanddetails.com/japan.php?itemid=618&catid=18
Displays of affection:

1.)  Holding hands. Well, I will not say much about holding hands, This is definitely appropriate and by no way offends me. Holding hands is an intimate gesture that shows ownership of the other. Eww! I am the owner of myself! I am not fond of holding hands. Unless, you are my boyfriend, I will not hold your hand.

2.) Linking arms. Linking arms is VERY different from holding hands. Many will link arms when alcohol is involved. This gesture does not emit the same sense of ownership or coupleness that holding hands does, but there can be meaning behind it. This too is appropriate!

3.) Hugging. Oh how the world gets better by the minute with hugs. I love all forms of hugs. Goodbye hugs, friend hugs, drunk hugs, half hugs...you name it.

4.) Kissing. Or the act of a peck on the cheek or lips. This a very innocent sweet form of pda that is required to better relationships all over the world. Even Japan is daring for short pecks. I approve. As long as you aren't that obnoxious ridiculous girlfriend that is repeatedly pecking her boyfriend on the check like a maniac...I'm good with this.

5.) Making out. Eww gross, what are we in middle school. I should not have to turn my head because you are soaking your boyfriend with saliva and jamming your tongue down his throat, like a crazed dog. I do not want to see that. I don't care if you are one of my friend's or a stranger. Charlie Rich said it best in the song, "behind closed doors" I've posted the lyrics below.

My baby makes me proud
Lord, don't she make me proud
She never makes a scene
By hanging all over me in a crowd
'Cause people like to talk
Lord, don't they love to talk
But when they turn out the lights
I know she'll be leaving with me

 

And when we get behind closed doors
Then she lets her hair hang down
And she makes me glad that I'm a man
Oh, no-one knows what goes on behind closed doors

 

My baby makes me smile
Lord, don't she make me smile
She's never far away
Or too tired to say: "I want you"
She's always a lady, just like a lady should be
But when they turn out the lights
She's still a baby to me

Maybe, women don't know how to be lady's these days. What happens in the bedroom, should stay in the bedroom.

6.) OK, so the reason behind this post. the picture above. I took this picture of two sailors laying on top of each other at Spectrum during non working hours. For those of you who do not know what spectrum is, it's a hang out spot for single sailors to use the computers, play pool and call home and watch tv. The faces in this picture are unknown. Cuddling. While most days, I would deem this appropriate, the picture above fails! I understand that the ship is rough and the end of the day, you want to spend time with your boyfriend, but do you have to lay on top of him with his hand on your ass, legs intertwined? Whatever happened, to laying a head on his shoulder or just a simple kiss? At the end of a long day, all I want to do is lay on a bean bag chair in spectrum and watch a movie not be grossed out by your actions. Really? Get a room.

Come on, people, help me out. Am I right or am I right?



Pimento Cheese

I wrote this for my Aunt after my Uncle passed away.
I haven't gone back to read this in a couple years but I refuse to make any changes because that would change memories during a mourning period in my life. To my Navy friends, the button in my cover is for him.

Pimento Cheese

Today our car will be shadowed by a long trail of yellow headlights. Drivers will pull to the side of the road out of respect to the family and patiently wait for our long train to drive by. Mom keeps her eyes on the road following the headlights in front of us. The rain begins to strike our windshield and my stomach roars for pimento cheese.

The immense sky expanding over the Chowan River is grey today. Chills climb down my body as the wind trembles. I am not quite ready for this. This was always a favorite place of his. I sigh as a strand of hair sticks to my never applied lip gloss.   

I close my eyes and try to escape to a different place. A place where the whole family is together again down at the river, where I don’t need lip gloss. Granddaddy is dressed in mismatched socks. He sits at the table spitting tobacco into a red cup filled with bleak brown goop. Sometimes-well often times-he misses the cup. I can still remember squinting up my nose when the brown substance splashes into a puddle before my eyes. I chase my cousins on the beach with all of the dogs in hot pursuit behind us; they think it’s a game. My brother and Uncle Tommy are discussing the best bar-b-que joints in town. My aunts are getting lunch together with at least 12 red cups of sweet tea. We are having homemade pimento cheese sandwiches. It’s a southern delight but I don’t care what it is, I think it’s lumpy and it smells.

“Your uncle Tommy went to a lot of trouble making lunch for us today, Danielle. Be respectful and eat it alright?” Mom says.

I don’t know why everyone likes it so much. When you bite into a pimento cheese sandwich, the white bread sticks to the top of your mouth and gets hung up in your teeth. Sometimes the ratio of cheese to mayonnaise is off and Uncle Tommy puts too much mayonnaise in it.  This makes the gunk even more revolting. Mayonnaise is disgusting, anyways. With every bite, I crinkle my eyes and hold my nose. The red pimentos have a ghastly film to them, don't you think? They have this really vicious kind of twang. The bite is mushy and bland until you crunch into a pimento, that is. That changes everything.  It looks like spoiled orange cottage cheese with chunks of red mold.

            Uncle Tommy stands and pulls at his pants to rest them comfortably below his extended belly. He hasn’t always had the extra tub. Towards the end, I wish I could have seen him adjust his pants to right below his stomach again.

“You enjoying that pimento cheese sandwich, Danielle?” Uncle Tommy asks. I grimace, hold my breath, take another bite and swallow.

“Oh I love it. You will have to teach me how to make it sometime, okay Uncle Tommy?”

Mom begins dabbing her eyes, and I am brought back to the reality of today. I glance out the window and watch rain bead up on the windshield. My uncle Tommy must have had flaws, nobody is perfect,  but following this long line of cars I cannot think of anything bad about him. Every year for Christmas, he made trucks and tractors out of blocks of wood for all the little ones in the family. He liked to spoil me too. I spoiled him back with oatmeal raisin cookies. I must have made 4 batches of cookies in a month for him, it was the best I could do, at the time. The church really loved him as well; always the first to volunteer.  He lost his hair, even his course, brown mustache. It was one thing to see him without his hair but seeing him without his mustache... I couldn’t bear to see him without it.

I will never again have to eat it. My tongue will never twist with the vicious twang of pimentos. White bread will never get stuck on the roof of my mouth.  Regardless, as we follow the long train of cars, my stomach yearns for pimento cheese. I hate it but need to taste it again.

I glance out the window and see break lights in the distance.  There must have been at least 25 cars behind us. It makes you wonder about the kind of person he was. Up ahead, American flags flutter in the distance surrounding a white tent. Yes, today a flag will be folded while my family sobs, as two soldiers play taps on the French horns. I guess I never will learn how to make pimento cheese like Uncle Tommy.

It's weird now, years later, I love pimento cheese. He's probably looking down from heaven laughing at me eating the stuff. I eat it all the time. I miss him and whenever I eat it, I feel like he's there. I wish he was here to talk to me about the Navy. He passed away before I ever got to talk to him about this adventure, but when I have rough days I rub the dress blue button in my cover, and think of him. I think about how proud he would be of his kids, the funny time his wife (my aunt) got a flat tire, and all the memories he's missing with his grandkids. It's ok though. It's life. I just wish he knew how much that button saves my life out here, sometimes.

 

Where is my Lloyd Dobbler?

Not liking country music is a deal breaker in my book. Like seriously, if you are a guy and have interest in me, don't expect for me to even turn my head if you don't like country music. I can't even go a day without listening to country music. It's such a huge part of me, and I just don't understand anyone who doesn't enjoy the banjo, lyrics, and acoustic guitar of country music. Really, how do you live?

You know the movie, Say Anything? It came out in the 80's, with John Cussack. It has that famous scene of him holding up the radio, in his brown coat, jamming out to Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes." Well I was just sitting here thinking, where is my Lloyd Dobbler of the world. I fear that I will never find love in life and only have affairs with characters in novels and actors in movies.

I've posted a quote from the movie below. In a world of guys, he is such a man. This is one of my favorite movies. He has no idea career wise what he wants. Sound familiar? Yeah, I know! But he knows exactly what makes him a better person...her.

Lloyd Dobler: I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that.
What I really want to do with my life - what I want to do for a living - is I want to be with your daughter. I'm good at it.

It's not that my standards are too high when it comes to the opposite sex. I guess, my Dad just set a really good example of what a man should be. I have no interest in settling for just anyone here in Japan. Very few people in the world understand me or get my logic of thinking. People say I'm random and don't make any sense at times. I do. I make a whole lot of sense actually, you just fail to keep up. God will send me someone who truly understands and appreciates me when the time is right. I feel so lost in my love life right now. I feel like I've left my heart in one place and God pressed pause on my life so I could focus more time on myself.  Maybe that's true but, I miss how easy it was in college. I miss my phi mu sisters and sorority life. I think I will continue to prefer fraternity boys and college guys over sailors or marines. Don't get me wrong, I love marines, but my big brother Brady, could tell you a thing or two about marines. Trouble follows.

In college it was so easy. I had a sorority filled with sisters that knew what all the fraternity boys were after. Lots of gossip about who was into who and lots of insight on each individual, fraternity or not.

So as Valentine's day is tomorrow, I'm not sad that I do not have a significant other in my life right now. I'm actually quite pleased with myself because I'm developing a very long list of what I am looking for.

So here's what I want in a man... (or maybe just out of life, really)

1.) Facial hair. Be a man! I'm in a horrible place for wanting facial hair on men right now, what with the navy's grooming policies, but oh well.
2.) Be honest. I know its hard to tell someone how you feel but, believe me, it's worse never being able to tell someone how much they mean to you. (I'm going through that one, right now).
3.) You know I'm really looking for a man who can fix things. For example, my big sister has a wonderful boyfriend, who used to fix things on my car, and made the cieling fans in our apartment less wobbly. That was really nice! I think he is a wonderful boyfriend, for my big.
4.) Understand that I will not, under any circumstance, make you a sandwich if you refer to me as "woman." I have no idea who started that but it's 2012, a woman's place in the world does not revolve around the kitchen or your needs of a sandwich.
5.) Hold the door for me, not because I am a woman, but because you were raised to have manners.
6.) If we're on a first date and I offer to pay. Its a trick. I'm testing you. If you want a second date with me, you will pay for the first. I'm not stuck up. I don't want to be spoiled. Realize, that I will pay for dates too. A relationship should be 50/50 in everything.
7.) You know how George Strait looks? Yeah, I want one of  those cowboy types.
8.) Oh, if you play a muscial instrument, you automatically get ten extra points in my book.
9.) I don't want anything fancy. I still believe the best dates are the free ones. truck bed, blankets, stars and beer. Check, please!
10.) Be stronger than me. If I borrow your shirt, it shouldn't fit me. I need muscles and strength.
11.) And lastly, I'm not interested in any of you. I'm making it on my own just fine.

If you have no goals in life and aren't going anywhere, I'm not going anywhere with you. Wow, I feel alot better now. It's nice being able to rant and lay everything down on the line.

When I get married...eventually, I will, it will be for forever. My forever may not be 60 years, like my grandparents, but I will commit. I know one thing too, I will make sure that I want to be with this man the rest of my life before I tie the knot or I won't get married.  Divorce is expensive, my friends.
DG

Man Overboard

Mom, this post is for you.

This past August when I came home to visit family over leave I made some awesome memories. It was just the right temperature to lay out and catch some rays on the Chowan river. Boy, do I miss my tan now! Everyday on leave, I woke up carried coffee and a book with me to the pier and proceeded to find my inner zen. After two or three cups of coffee, the dogs got restless with me, and the sun was just rising high enough to feel the warmth infusing into your skin. I love that feeling! 

For those of you who are not familiar with the Chowan River, it is located on the Eastern part of North Carolina. It is approximately 2.5 miles wide and empties into the Albemarle sound.So, not a small body of water we're talking about, to say the least. I've posted a picture above.

While I was home on leave my mom had to work, which was fine with me because there is no better place on earth to lay out, than on that river. After three days of my Mom working on the computer, she was finally ready to lay out with me. A couple of years ago, she came up with the idea to connect carabiner clips to a long rope so we wouldn't have to worry about holding onto the floating dock. Best invention ever! All you do is clip the carabiner to your bikini and the other end to the dock and you are set to lay out for hours without drifting down the river! And believe me, its happened to us before.

After napping on a float, in the water, as the waves rolled under us for a couple hours, we decided it would be a wonderful idea to take the paddle boat out with our carabiner clips. With the carabiner clips with all us,  we can hook up to a buoy and relax out there without drifting away. First, I must let you know that this paddle boat is not ours. We borrow it from time to time. The neighbors don't mind.  

I ran over to the house to get all of the necessities needed. I stocked up on chips, diet coke, sweet tea. I grabbed my phone (for music), sun tan lotion, and books for each of us. I put all of these contents into a beach bag along with two towels to sit on. I figured if we we're gonna take a paddle boat trip, we might as well do it in style.

I met my Mom out by the river to help her flip the boat over. That was the easy part. We pushed the boat into about a foot of water and as she got into the boat, I held it steady. The water was perfect for the boat today. No wind, and the water was very calm. I hopped into the boat and we began to paddle for the sandbar about 60 feet away from land. My music was set up. We had our sunshades on and sweet tea filled our bellies. After being at boot camp and A school for so long, it was so nice to be able to catch up, especially in a paddle boat, tanning in the sun. What could be better than that, right? Well, soon you'll know just how many things can go wrong with a mother and daughter in a paddle boat together.

Now, as we paddled to the sandbar I noticed that my mom's side had a little more water on her side than mine. I figured it was probably because she's heavier than me, so I simply moved the bag to my side and we continued to paddle. No big deal, right? When we arrive at the sand bar, I pulled out the carabiner and rope and clipped us to the buoy successfully. We pulled out the chips and I got my music going. As we talked, the boat gently rocked to the waves of the river.

Now, our boat continued to gain water while we sat rocking on the sandbar. I noticed that the water had began to pick up and get rougher. Quite violent, I could even say. With each wave, more and more water crashed into and against my Mom's side of the paddle boat. Now, I'm not gonna say that my Mom was panicking but....she was panicking!! As she talked me through unclipping the carabiner from the buoy we drifted farther away from the buoy. The waves were working against us! 

At that point, her side of the paddle boat was about half full of water. The boat had also drifted about ten ten feet away from the buoy. She threw the remains of her tea into the river and began to use her tervis tumbler tea cup as a bucket to scoop the water out. "Danielle, we have to paddle backwards to get back to the caribeaner and unclip ourselves." she yelled. "Paddle!" In all the fervor of stress and panic, we paddled in circles, unsure of how to get our boat close enough to the buoy to unclip ourselves. Our legs were tired! We probably paddled for a good ten minutes before changing our plan.

She wasn't in tears yet, but I could see the look of fear in her eyes. I grabbed hold of the rope and began to pull ourselves toward the buoy as she continued to scoop the water out of the boat...unsuccessfully. Her cup is ten times smaller than the amount of water that was in our boat, but I wasn't going to be the one to tell her that, especially, in the middle of our current situation. Also, I might add that on the sandbar the water is only about 4 feet deep, but as your boat is sinking, and your mom is panicking that we're gonna drown, you tend to keep your mouth shut about pieces of information, as such.

My mom was holding the beach bag high above her head sitting in the paddle boat half sunk alarmed beyond belief. Both of us are sitting in the paddle boat seats a good waist deep water. "Danielle, we're not gonna make it back to land. And nobody is down her to see us sinking! Get out of the boat! You have to get out! It wont hold us both. You can make it back, right? The teach you to swim in boot camp. You can make it! It's not that far." As we looked back to land, we saw our two dogs staring at the situation in confusion. If dogs could talk, I'd imagine they were making fun of us.

The boat literally could no longer hold both our weight. She basically pushed me out of the boat. I began to swim and assured her that I could make it. We were about 40 feet away from land. She still held the bag above her head freaking out,"I'm gonna sink. The boat's gonna sink!" she cried. I swam next to the half sunk boat and pulled her safely to the pier. The whole time I was swimming, all I heard was, "Are you OK? Danielle, can you make it? I can't believe I pushed my daughter out of the boat." she panicked in hysteria. "Mom, I'm fine, I can touch the bottom here." I assured her. She didn't seem OK with the situation, just yet.

I finally got her to the pier and managed to coax her into getting out of the boat to swim back to shore. "I can't get out. I can't get out. I can't reach here" she cried. "Mom, were at the pier. We're back. You can touch here. It's OK." She managed to put our beach bag onto the pier as we walked/swam our sunken boat through the remaining water and to land. When we finally managed to get it back on land, we noticed that the plug was missing in the bottom of the boat. "You think we needed that?" I asked. My mom was still a little shook up. I think she may have even ignored my question.

Don't worry, my phone made it. So did the chips. Our towels, however, were soaked. And after we recovered, we laughed. I'm not talking about small chuckles of our man overboard situation... I mean, to this day, everyday, I relive the memory in my head, I cannot help but roll into peels of laughter. I laugh so hard tears explode. It's so funny everytime I think about it. I can't explain it. Just writing the story right now, has me laughing awkwardly in spectrum, like an idiot. I'm pretty sure people are even staring at me.

Now, you guys may mot see the comedy in this story like my Mom will. She'll be able to recount our little trip and smile, because out of all of our paddle boat memories, this day will remain at the top of the charts. Have you ever laughed so hard, you can't even talk, and your face is red and your arms are flailing like an idiot. Yep, that's me right now.

So, Mom, when I'm out on deployment, and I miss you I will think of our awesome time you threw me overboard and we panicked together. Love you!

DG

Home

New Jersey birthed me, but I don't claim it as home. I was born exactly two months before the world expected me. Two weeks after I was born my Grandmother passed away. I thank the Lord everyday, that she was able to meet me before she passed. I don't remember her, but my Mom says whenever I bake, I look just like her. To this day, I think she's the reason I love baking.


Raleigh rented me, but it's neither home, nor important.


Charlotte raised me, but that house is becoming a very distant memory. I spent Halloween's trick or treating on Rainbow Forrest Dr. I played many games of Pig and Horse with my dad and brother in the front yard. I spent many days, "home sick" on the green sofa tucked in tightly watching t.v. while everyone else was at school. My dog is buried in the back yard but this was not the home that built me.


I grew up with Cullowhee. I found hΦΜe in Phi Mu.  I found myself in Phi Mu. Love and heartbreak revealed itself. I learned the do's and dont's of fraternity boys and alcohol.  But I soon realized God had more plans for me.


Mt. Gould Beach adopted me long ago. Many games of rummy with my Granddad, many pranks pulled with my aunts, long days in the sun followed by, coffee and movies shared at night with my Mom. I found my best friend at the river.


Great Lakes, Illinois stole me. Boot camp tore me down, tested me beyond belief and made me find an inner me,  I didn't even know existed. Even the temporary hell, that it was, it was never home.


Florida tanned me. I drank with Florida, laid on the beach, ran three miles a day. Command pt and duty. I became a better sailor in Florida.


California stole my heart. My relationships deepened with Esmeralda and Thomas as we tanned in the sun. I learned the importance of not drinking like marines do or a horrible hang over would follow. I miss California but California was not home.


I got orders to Japan. For the next three years, USS George Washington is where I will reside. While my family is miles away. I've created a nice Navy family to lean on. But is Japan home?

All of the places I've lived so far have shaped me into the person I am today. I carry memories of each place with me and tuck them neatly in my heart. Whenever I get sad or homesick, I know I can always go back in time to my sorority sisters in Cullowhee, my G.A.'s and family at Mount Gould, my childhood in Charlotte, etc. My heart has people, memories, and places saved.

So I guess don't really know where home is. I'm a drifter. This lifestyle was my choice. I wanted to see the world and become a more independent woman. So where do I turn to when I think of home? Well, I don't think it is a set location. I think that maybe home is defined by moments captured with the people you love no matter the distance.  Wherever I go in life, as long as I'm with the people I love... I'll be home.

I skyped with my friend Caroline today. For the hour that we talked together, I was home. We made fish faces, and she rolled her tongue. We flashed quatrefoils and laughed...uncontrollably. We talked about things only we understand. Miles away, home is a feeling. It's the feeling that the person you are talking to completely gets you.

The other day, I skyped with my mom and Jacqui, just like old times, they got up early, brewed coffee and set a cup out for me. While I would love to see my family and friends in person, skype and phone calls will just have to do. There are people in places I care about dearly, and I hope they know how much they mean to me. 


So to everyone back home in North Carolina, I miss you! And know that Carolina keeps calling me home.

True Life

Have you ever seen thae show on MTV called True Life? If not, it is a documentary that follows young men and women's lives that are unique or somehow different than that of the average person. Some examples might be, True Life: I'm an alcoholic, True Life: I'm a shopaholic or True Life: I have turrets.

My friend, Thomas, and I have decided that MTV should do a show on navy females living on aircraft carriers.

So, True Life: I'm a female servicemember in the Navy.

Note: This account is from personal and friend experience only. This does not, in any way, account for ALL navy females or ALL servicewomen in the military.

True Life: We shave our legs, maybe, ONCE a week. As Thomas and I are kicking back in the berthing, feet propped up in pink fuzzy zebra slippers, she replies, "I really need to shave my legs." We pause and look at the hair spiked up on her legs. "How many millimeters of hair do you think that is, Greene?" she asks. "I'd say your leg hair is like, a quarter of an inch or so." "Eh...I'll get on that this Friday," she replies. We wear coveralls everyday and paint the mags. Our division hasn't ordered us coats yet. Until they do, I'll continue to grow my leg hair out. After all, clearly, its extra insulation.

True Life: We only style our hair on the weekends. Everyday we wake up, put on coveralls or our N-dubs (blue camo uniform) and put our hair up in a military style bun. Many females use a sock to make the perfect bun; slicked back tightly and fastened closely to head. Lately, I've seen the sock bun in magazines and on fashion runways. I will never voluntarily wear my hair in a sock bun for everyday cuteness. I repeat. I will never decide to "fix my hair" in a stylish sock bun on a daily basis.

But, to get back to my point, after we get off work, we turn on the Ellen Degeneres show and slowly pull the motivation out of ourselves to get out of uniform and put on civvies (civilian attire).By getting dressed I mean, throwing our hair up in a pony tail and slipping into sweats, a hoodie and a pair of Chuck Taylor's. Note: we only have the motivation to get dressed on the commercials. We reserve Ellen, as a time to prop our feet up and laugh.

True Life: We only wear "real pants" on the weekends. On any given weekday, you can expect to see me in baggy men's sweatpants (or VS sweats) and a hoodie. I'm sorry if this makes me look sporty, unfeminine, or whatever. I have six pairs of sweat pants with me in Japan. You wanna know how many pairs of jeans I have? Three. And I only have three, because one pair was given to me. Basically, you're gonna have to love me in sweats or love me never at all. I go to the gym after working hours, study for my 3rd class exam, take a shower, chill at spectrum, and go to bed. So logically, it really makes zero sense to put real clothes on. So glad you understand.

True Life: We clean up good. I've previously mentioned that we put very little effort into ourselves on the weekdays. The weekends, however, are a completely different story. Women in uniform are women in uniform. Check us out when were out painting the town..you'd never know we serve our country. We look gorgeous. Friday afternoons, we doll up, curl or straighten hair, paint on red lips, and throw down.

True Life: Quite, simply, we miss our heels, clothes, and whole wardrobes back home. Many of you have full closets, dressers, mirrors, and shoe organizers on the backs of your doors. We have a coffin locker and one half size locker for everything. You must realize that half  of the space is reserved for uniform items. Before I left for the navy, I told my dad that I wasn't sure if my cowboy boots would fit. As I packed for Japan, I could see some of my tops and dressed dying to make the cut. Very few civilian clothes came with me. I did, however, find a place for my cowboy boots. Granted, the other three pairs had to stay but, hey, who's complaining? We are very resourceful getting dressed to go out at night. With three pairs of shoes and two jeans, I am very limited in my style category. On the plus side, similar to living in a sorority house, we share as much as we can.

True Life: Our feet stink. I'm not joking and I'm not embarrassed to admit it. They stink. You try walking up and down ladder wells and stairwells in steel-toed leather boots all day. We buy foot sprays and foot powders just as often as we do soap and deodorant. When we take our boots off at the end of the day, our feet are ugly, unmanicured and sweaty. Its just part of it. We knew what we were getting into before we joined. I have no complains. Simply stated: our feet stink.

Anyways, I think our state of thinking is skewed compared, to that of, normal women in the world. Daily tasks are so different for females living and working on an aircraft carrier. Hope this gives you guys some insight into how a few of us servicewomen live.

DG

Duty Days

Yesterday while everyone was out and about on Sunday, I stayed on the ship for duty. Some complain about this task. Yeah, I get it. It sucks but whining doesn't help any. On days like yesterday, it's best to look on the bright side. For example, lunch SUCKED but, while I was on watch someone brought me back a Gatorade. Or, even though lunch sucked, the galley was serving corn dogs for dinner. I had TWO...and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

The food is rough on the ship. I'm not gonna lie. I'm not a picky eater. Actually, I am far from it, but I wasn't aware that it was possible to mess up a boiled egg. One morning I peeled all the way down to the yolk, threw the egg back on my trey and gave up. I look at the ship galley as a challenge. What can I do to make this chicken (I think it's chicken) amazing? Or how can I turn this beef into less of a mess and more of a delicacy. Well, delicacy may be taking it a little far but if you use your brain and are up for the challenge, lunch can be quite an adventure!

So far I have discovered that tuna on the salad bar is the equivalent to gold. You can add mayonnaise and celery and onions to it and put it in between almost brick like bread. If the bread is too hard and old..the toaster is always an option. Now, that's a good sandwich right there. Also, know you can always fall back on peanut butter and jelly. I try to reserve that lunch item for when we go underway though. I fear I will get sick of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches soon enough, with time.

Any type of meat automatically gets ten extra points in my book with hot sauce or ketchup added to it. It is a good idea to make a sandwich out of any of the meat items that you are unsure about. Take roast beef for example, covered in gravy and mashed potatoes, nestled between bread, gives the"impression" of a full and hearty meal..even if it doesn't taste that good.

I know I preached earlier about using the bathroom but while I am on the lunch subject, and as I am an AO, I learned very quickly not to drink too much water during chow. For, once you go down 7 ladders to the magazine you are assigned to, it is then, that you are required to go all the way back up to use the bathroom. That is quite a chore, let me tell you!

While I was on duty yesterday I had the scanner watch from 12-16. It is a very simple watch. Your task as the scanner is to make sure everyone who leaves the ship scans their id before exiting. Apparently, a young man on "Charlie" liberty got off of the ship on my watch. (If you are on charlie liberty you are not allowed off of the ship.) All of us on watch, during that time, were recalled to identify this guy with the senior chief on duty.

Senior chief asked us if we had seen a tall white guy leave the ship during our watch. One of the girls I was on watch with replied, "Well yeah, senior chief, we saw a lot of tall white guys leave the ship today." It took everything I had not to bust out laughing right then. Sometimes, even the higher ups ask dumb questions.

Apparently, the guy they were looking for never even left the ship. Go figure. I was thankful that for turnover this morning we got off an hour early for the Superbowl. I didn't care much about the Superbowl, but I did catch up on laundry and Vampire Diaries. If anyone asked me who I was rooting for, I told them my stomach because I was more excited about the food than football. Some things never change.

I did win lunch for two, at a hotel somewhere in Yokosuka, by answering football trivia. I couldn't tell you what the question or the answer was, but I guessed C and took the prize home. Go me!

DG

Boot Camp Memories

Have you ever looked back and thought, "Damn, is this really my life?" That seems to be right where I'm at today. I hit my year mark with the navy on March 2nd of this year. It's crazy when I stop and think how much my life has changed. Last year at this time, my Grandmother was just getting out of the hospital recovering from surgery. We are so blessed to have her here with us today. I'm so glad she's walking again and her spirits are up. It was definitely rough seeing her at the hospital for so many months.

Last year at this time, I was headed to boot camp. I would like to share with you all, my hilarious stories and memories from boot camp.

I signed with MEPS on February 16th, and had basically 2 weeks before I left for basic training last year. Two weeks gave me just enough time to say goodbye to everyone and a solid 14 days to freak out. I couldn't do a single push up before I left. I couldn't run longer than 10 minutes. I had no background in military knowledge whatsoever. Boy, was I in for it!

So my family threw me this wonderful going away party with lots of great food and friends before I left. Ask my brother what happened on the way there. I was driving those back country NC roads, reciting the sailor's creed for him as blue and red sirens flash behind me. "Shit!" "Jonathan, he's gonna write me a speeding ticket and I won't be able to leave for boot camp and I'll have to tell everyone today I'm not leaving." He approaches the car and sure enough, tells me I was driving too fast. He asked why. All I could see without tears falling down was, "Sir, I was just trying to recite the sailor's creed for my brother so I can be a sailor in the U.S. Navy. Please don't give me a ticket. I'll go 15 mph the whole way there. Just please don't give me a ticket because then, I'll have to wait 6 months to go to boot camp." Sure enough, he gives me a warning. I never told my mom until AFTER the party was over.

When you get off of the airplane in Chicago, you meet up with everyone else and that is when the yelling begins. You line up in single file, and get on a bus that takes you to Great Lakes. As soon as the bus stops, a petty officer comes on the bus and yells at everyone to get off the damn bus and get inside. Guess who got so nervous she fell down the stairs getting off the bus? Yep, that's me. In my 3 minute phone call home to tell my mom that I arrived safely all I said was, "Mom I'm here. I just fell off the bus. I gotta go. Bye" Yep, that was our conversation.

My goal in boot camp was to blend in and stay quiet. That is NOT the way it happened. We had these guard belts with canteens that we had to wear all the time to stay hydrated, when they weren't in use we hung them on the hooks, canteens facing left. The second day I was there, I hung mine to the right. Bingo. So much for blending in. My RDC (recruit division commander) threw it on the ground and asked me why I was on my own fucking plan. I was so lost in the sauce. It took me weeks to figure out why he was yelling and throwing my canteen on the deck, haha.

In boot camp, we marched alot. And commands were repeated over and over again. The funniest times occurred at night while the division was sleeping and you were on watch. The RPOC would yell in her sleep, "Division 151, ATTEN-TION." All at once, bodies would sit up at attention.We even had one girl doing sit ups in her sleep.

My rack mate got her wisdom teeth pulled out and was on strong pain killers one night. We were getting ready for the evening prayer and I turn around to find her bowing her head, counting, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8....1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8. When told to get in her rack she cried and said, "No, there are ants all in my rack. I'm not sleeping with those ants." I coaxed her into sleeping by giving her my ant free blanket.

After falling not so gracefully during the seabag relay, one of the guys in my division reenacted me falling. It was hysterical. All my RDC could do was shake his head, laugh and say, "Fuckin' Greene."

This post is probably long overdue and sadly I cannot remember all that I should since its been so long ago. We got beat for two hours one day because someone pooped in the toilet and didn't flush.

I drank ALOT of water.
RDC:"Greene, where the fuck do you think you're going?"
Me: "The head, petty officer"
RDC: "Greene, you just fucking skated off to the head 5 minutes ago."
Me: "You told us to drink 12 canteens a day petty officer"

Looking back its all pretty hysterical. Especially when I think about me in boot camp at the very beginning. I was clueless. I guess it all works out the way its suppose to. I still can't believe I'm in freaking JAPAN!

Bye for now
DG

Valentine's Day

Well, January went by quick. I cannot believe it's over already. Since February is the month of Valentine's day, I thought I would post my thoughts on these long kept hallmark holiday traditions.

 

So this month, I'd like to wish a happy Valentine's day to all the haters wallowing in their singleness, a happy Valentine's to all of those madly in love and a happy Valentine's to people like me who couldn't care less one way or another. I'm not resentful of the holiday. I just think celebrating your love for someone on one day of the year is something that should already be done. Why can't a man bring me chocolates every day of the week? That's what I am seeking in a valentine this year-chocolate every day of the week. Actually, scratch that. I want steak. Let's not waste our money on all those frilly teddy bears and $3.00 cards. Flowers are nice but they eventually die. Give me steak and chocolate or I'll just find another valentine.

Maybe Valentine's day was more fun when I was a little girl. Look back to the days when you recieved a guranteed 26 valentines from everyone in class plus the rest of the day to eat your weight in icing, cookies, and candies. Remember the days? I remember all the power ranger, ninja turtles, and princess cards. And I remember the feeling of being so full of sugar, choclate and candy, I swore off eating frosting out of the jar ever again. I kept all of my valentines from elementary school for a really long time. But soon, the cards lost their sentiment because at that age you have to give a card to everyone, which kind of makes them lose their specialness.

So funny story...a couple of years ago I was working at Harris Teeter on Valentine's day. Best day ever to work, by the way. It was so nice seeing all the flowers purchased. While I was working the register, the weird produce guy (I forgot his name) came through my line with a card and a dozen roses. After he was done paying, he gave them to me and then proceeded to ask me out on a date. I felt like I was on a tv show. The whole store clapped. I'm sure my face turned red and I was blushing like crazy. Granted, I thought the boy was super weird and probably played video games all day long, but I have to give him some credit. That was a pretty smooth move. I went on a date with him, and it ended with that but way to go produce guy. I'll always remember you.

Nowadays, there is a lot of pressure on Valentine's day gifts- especially for the men. Wal Mart probably has two rows devoted only to Valentine's day. Rows and rows of cards exsist- sappy, funny, friend..you name it. And Hallmark, seriously? I think you are going a bit far with cards that light up, talk and sing. Sometimes, things are best said simply stated without flashing lights in the background.

As much as the holiday is built up around gifts and random stuff I enjoy the glimpse of moments. Like watching a guy try and pick a lock in the sorority house, so that he can break in and leave flowers for his girlfriend. It is nice seeing friend's open up cards and smile. My stomach loves being full of chocolate. I even enjoy recieving calls from family. So America, keep it up! This Valentine's day don't forget to tell someone you care about them. I'll be here in Japan thinking about those I love.

DG