Kerri, with a K

trying to be me


F is for… F/18

It’s been all over the news.  It started locally, but wasted no time spreading like wildfire to DC, Baltimore, New Jersey, the Boston, and beyond I’m sure.  But the news was scary, nonetheless.  A Military Jet (F/18) crashed into a local apartment complex in Virginia Beach just after noon today.  The very same apartment complex Hubs and I would drive by going to the beach for the last two summers.  The very same type of jets that flew over our apartment a few miles away where we lived for two years.  Yeah, it’s scary.

And the miracle here is that everyone survived.  There were several people injured, but no one died.  And with a direct hit like that, I’m surprised but happy that no one died.  Today was Good Friday, and I can imagine there were many people that took the day off or left work early, not to mention all the kids that weren’t in school because of April break or Good Friday.  This had the potential to be a much bigger disaster.

Hubs and I talked to lots of different people who were basically saying the same thing: nothing like this has EVER happened before.  EVER.  And the amusing part to everyone is that in December, they were running maneuvers that used this very scenario, one that would help them navigate through the situation where a jet would land anywhere but the Naval Base.

And no.  No one has ever crashed into an apartment complex like this before, in this area.  However, that is not the first crash the Oceana Naval Air Station has seen 25 crashes over the past four decades, the most recent being in 2007 during a practice run for an airshow.  The jet crashed beyond the runway in the woods and the pilot died.  You can read about a few other incidents in our local paper here.

Whether there have been dozens of crashes or none, it’s still scary to think about those jets flying over our apartment, over the beach, day after day, practicing maneuvers, making noise.

I’m not gonna lie.  I don’t miss those jets.  I didn’t mind them when we lived in their air path.  But I certainly didn’t miss them.  And I miss them much less now.



E is for…

I’m really enjoying this A to Z challenge.  It’s forcing me to both write every day (or as much as possible) and write about anything and everything.  Giving each day its own letter is forcing me to just write about anything, not just the random and infrequent post about what is going on in my life.

I don’t really have a theme other than this is my life.  So I did a Google search for “E” and here are a few of the things that popped up:

There were many other things, but there was a lot about math and physics using the “number” e.

So, there you have it.  E is both a letter and a number.  Tee hee.

Today’s post was brought to you by the letter E and the number E.

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I should be sleeping.  Or cleaning.  But I’m wide awake.  I have some annoying life insurance physical exam at 10:30 this morning, and I have very little interest in it.  But I’ll do it and get it over with.

Otherwise, I’m taking a short pause from the A to Z Challenge.  Just a post about babies.  Which I could have done two days ago, under the letter B, but I didn’t really think of these things until yesterday.

I have a son.  He’s almost 10 months old.  And he is the best thing ever.  And Hubs and I tried for nearly two years to conceive before the Boy blessed us.  And now I’m wondering if we should be doing it again.

A friend of mine back home, who was pregnant the same time I was, just announced that they are expecting baby #2.  I couldn’t be happier for them.  I wish them all the best.  But it got me thinking about whether I want to do it again.  I guess deep down, I would love to have another child.  And if God wants to bless us with another child, so be it.  I won’t be upset.  But the question is: are we supposed to have another child?  Maybe not now, but someday?  I don’t want to put any silly limits on myself with age or time between kids and whatnot.  And if it happens, that’s the way it was supposed to be.  But is it supposed to be?  I know we won’t know until we know.  And we haven’t been trying.  And we’ve talked about waiting a little bit for the Boy to get a little older.

But the thing is, I hate the questions.  I hated the questions when I was single about when I was getting married.  And the ones when I was married about when we’re having kids.  And now that we have a kid, the questions that ask if we’re having more.  I think it’s a terribly personal question, but people love to ask anyway.  And I don’t really have a polite, classy, diplomatic response.  I usually answer, “we don’t know yet,” or something of the like.

I guess what I’m saying is that I would love to have another baby, but if it’s not meant to be I won’t be upset because that is the way it is supposed to be.  But if we end up being blessed again, I know I’ll be over the moon.

I just don’t like the questions that put you on the spot.

Also, I think I’m feeling a little pressure because both my parents mentioned it the other day.  In a very direct, very obvious way.  I told my mother that I didn’t want any more, and that one was enough, and she was sad.  But my default mode when dealing with my mother is to not give her any hope, because she WILL take it too far.  And then it’s sad if I have to let her down.

I don’t know.  Just a few things I’m thinking about.


D is for… Day by Day

I was a junior in high school when my high school finally found a music director that wanted to do a musical.  We did Godspell.  I remember those days fondly because I honestly had a lot of fun working on it, despite my constant drama-queen-like attitude, and need to quite the production every single day because I was a drama queen.  Or so I’m told.  Ok.  FINE.  I was a little dramatic, but full on drama queen is a bit much.

ANYway.  There were maybe 10 roles and only so many songs, but I got a solo for one song.  And I hated it.  And I complained about it every day.  And tried to get rid of it because I wanted to sing a different song.  And what happened?  I kept that song AND got another one I hated singing.  Of course.  The song I had to sing?  Day by Day.

Day by Day, Day by day

Oh dear Lord, three things I pray

To see thee more clearly,

To love thee more dearly,

To follow thee more nearly

Day by day.

And it went on and on and on.  And I hated it.  And it’s funny that to this day I STILL remember the words and how it goes.  And I still have those fond memories.

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C is for… Challenges

The first word that came to mind when I thought of the letter C for today was Challenges.  Then “calendar.”  Then “cookies.”  Gotta love the flow there.  But “challenges” came first, and it’s been weighing pretty heavily on my mind.

I think in life we have so many challenges to face, so many struggles to go through to get to where we’re supposed to be.  I think it’s our challenges that help shape who we are.  If we didn’t go through the things we did, would we really be the people we are today?

And also, what defines a challenge?

Hubs and I have struggled a great deal since we got together.  Mostly because there have been many obstacles to get over so we could get to where we are today.  We moved, got married, had a baby, bought a house, lived in hotels why trying to buy said house.  There is no challenge that we’ve faced that we haven’t overcome.

But that brings to mind some of my current challenges in life.  Keeping the house clean.  Teaching the Boy everything.  Being more social.  All are things I find difficult, but I tackle on a daily basis because I know there is nothing but benefits on the other side.  But there are some that are just plain near impossible, and it’s hard to see their benefit until you get to the other side.

So.  Challenges.

What are some challenges you’ve faced today?  This week?  In life?


B is for… Blogging

I guess I consider myself a blogger.  I love to write, although I’ve taken time off to live life and move forward and other such things.  I turned to blogging more than five years ago as a means of clearing my head and talking to someone – or no one – without having to go outside an albeit awful relationship at the time.  I wanted something to do.  I wanted something to help improve my writing and create good habits and bounce ideas off others for the many book ideas I have.

I have three active blogs.  Each of them represents a different aspect of me.  There was a time when I only kept one and it got too cluttered with everything and I needed to start dividing and creating categories and separating different aspects of myself.  Now, I have three.  You are here at my personally personal blog which is just that.  And about me finding myself and being myself and doing what I do and just writing about it.

Then there’s my baby.  My lifesblood of the blogging universe…  Shameless TV.  The one that really started it all.  And I still like to write there because I love TV and I’d love to write for TV and there is just so much to talk about.

And then there’s my notebook.  Why We Fight: Essays on Buffy.  That is a place where I can obsess about Buffy and put down ideas I’m having about a particular aspect about the show I want to write about so I can flesh it out later, and hopefully publish these essays.

I don’t especially have a lot of followers.  And that used to matter a lot.  I was trying to write for an audience.  And while I’m still doing that, I’m writing more for me.  And if someone happens to stumble upon a little nugget of gold I put out there, I hope they like it enough to comment.  And I hope to become friends with those who share the same thoughts as I do or read the same blogs or are passionate about the same things.   And I’ll be grateful either way.

So I guess I do consider myself a blogger.  It’s just who I am.

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A is for… April Fools

One month.  26 posts.  A to Z.  Check it out here.  And join the challenge.

Ugh.  I can’t begin tell you how much I dislike April Fools Day.  Aside from the fact that the day belongs to my BIL, my puppy, and a childhood friend, Hubs LOVES to play funny practical jokes.  Except sometimes, they just aren’t funny.  Only in a not funny then, funny now sort of way.

Hubs played three successful jokes.  And by successful I mean that he was able to take advantage of my inherent gullibility amazing brilliance.  First, he told me our cat got out.  Grrr.  Tiny is an indoor cat who has been known from time to time to take a walk out the door and onto the front porch.  So this was very believable.  And I’m still shaking my fist at him for this one.

Joke number two was lottery related.  Given that we didn’t win the $640 million, Hubs bought a scratch ticket.  Typically, when we play scratch tickets, the most we ever win is $1 or $2, so we break even.  Hubs told me we won $50.  Yeah, I was excited.  Until he started giggling.  More fist shaking.

And joke number three was just as good and annoying (but don’t tell him about the good part).  The Boy has been trying to climb out his seat for awhile now.  He used to be successful at throwing himself out and faceplanting on the floor.  But then I raised it so he can’t get out.  Except he almost did trying to reach something on the floor.  So, while I was in the kitchen, Hubs told me that the Boy had climbed out of his seat.  Which would not have surprised me if he had.  And I went rushing in the room to see, only to find the Boy playing quietly with a toy I’d just given him.  Am I still fist shaking?  You betcha-by-golly-wow I am.

But in an effort to redeem myself, we called my parents for our big practical joke.  I made my dad get out of bed, so both parents could be on the phone to hear our BIG NEWS.  Dad was assuming our news was that I’m pregnant again.  Which I am not.  And would probably not tell them over the phone anyway.  We DID tell them that Hubs was part of a pool at work that won the lottery, so we had to split that $640 million 14 ways.  Mom was in hysterics with her screaming and yelling.  All dad could ask was if we were going to pay off the house.

Yup.  April Fools!

Also, one of my Facebook friends posted a funny status that was along the lines of:

What if April Fools doesn’t really exist and it’s the longest running practical joke ever?

Love it.

What were your best jokes from April Fools?