Bucky..ugh..Well Bucky was a cocker spaniel we owned. We = Den and I. Den brought him home to me when I was 4 or 5 months pregnant with our first child. He was really cute as all puppies are. But he didn't stay that way for long. I have a few stories about him and they won't be posted in any certain order Just by how well I can remember the story and if I can keep the story short enough to post.
It was bedtime and den beat me to the bed so when that happens the one still standing has to turn lights out in the house put the dog out for the last time and lock the doors.
I was the last one standing that night. So I put my slippers on and left the bedroom and headed to the back door to let Bucky out. Most of the lights were already shutoff so I blindly walked through the house It's was only like 12 -15 steps to the back door from our bed. But I had to navigate three steps down and then three steps up on the way back. Bucky went outside and QUICKLY came back in.
So I ran all the way back into the bedroom and jumped in the bed and crawled under the covers and and I kicked my feet a little to get the slippers off but it didn't work so as I reached down under the covers to take the slippers off by hand I smelled it. DENNIS! JESUS DENNIS WHY DO YOU HAVE TO FART AND LET IT STINK! OMG YOU ARE A PIG! WOah wait a minute. What the hell is on my slippers?
Realizing what it was I screamed at Den to get out of bed because there is dogshit spread in between the sheets. YUP.FN Bucky had shit in the house most likely when Den and I were racing to the bed and the lights were already out so I had no idea I was walking through it on the way to let him outside. And that's why he came back in so quickly.
Now we are both out of bed checking each other out to make sure we don't have any shit on our pajamas. Well I did...I pretty much had a smear everywhere. And It stunk so bad. Sooo we head to the bathroom with the lights on and see all the evidence now smushed into the carpet because I stepped in every single piece of poop he dropped...no planted strategically..come on, why else did I step in every single one?
Who likes to change the sheets to the bed after you've already gone to bed? I don't. So we just put another blanket on top of the bed and went to sleep. HAHAH no we didn't do that. I'm gross but not that gross. We changed the sheets.
Who likes to clean the carpet after they have already gone to bed? I don't. So we just left it figuring it would be easier to pick up after it was dried and crusted into the carpet. No we didn't do that either..Again I'm lazy and gross but not that gross. We cleaned the run, stepped and jumped in poop from the carpet.
Goodnight!
More Bucky stories to come.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Trying to claim a fart.
Okay so it's early one morning and I am awake lying in bed. But I pretend to be asleep because I know Dennis is awake and I know what he is going to want if he knows I'm awake. I think I can safely say that's the last thing most women want to focus on as soon as their eyes open in the morning.
Well Dennis being a man tries to wake me in a few subtle ways. At this time we had a water bed so doing the ole 'change positions' in bed is a good try because the waves sometimes will stir me awake. NOT this time. Then he tries some coughing..NOPE I'm not ready yet. So he gives up hope and gets out of bed and as he walks to the bathroom he farts really loud. Now I find farts funny as long as they don't stink. If they stink then get the f out of my space. This was a funny one. I held my laughter until he is in the bathroom and couldn't hear me laughing because I don't want him to do an about face and get back in bed because... I'm still not ready.
While he is in the bathroom my mind races and I start to think of something funny I can do to let him know I was awake the whole time. It didn't take long for me to figure out that I'm gonna ask him if he heard the fart I ripped earlier.
He comes back into the bedroom and is standing in front of the closet and I casually start to stretch as if I'm just waking up and I yawn and say "good morning honey". He replies with a "good morning" and he sounds a bit put off because I never woke up before and he seems to be missing something in his day already. Then I ask him "Did you hear that fart I ripped?" He asks me "When?" I tell him "Just a few mins ago when you were walking to the bathroom." He really gets angry and looks at me and yells "THAT WAS MY FART!"
He was so upset that I tried to claim his fart. You would have thought I took the last circus peanut on earth. ( grossest candy ever) I busted laughing. I was crying laughing. I tried to claim his fart. Seriously has anyone ever tried to claim someone else's fart He eventually did laugh with me. I think he realized how silly it was for him to be so upset. It's a fart. There is plenty more where that came from.
Moral of the story... if you're not going to give it to him don't try and take it away from him either.
Well Dennis being a man tries to wake me in a few subtle ways. At this time we had a water bed so doing the ole 'change positions' in bed is a good try because the waves sometimes will stir me awake. NOT this time. Then he tries some coughing..NOPE I'm not ready yet. So he gives up hope and gets out of bed and as he walks to the bathroom he farts really loud. Now I find farts funny as long as they don't stink. If they stink then get the f out of my space. This was a funny one. I held my laughter until he is in the bathroom and couldn't hear me laughing because I don't want him to do an about face and get back in bed because... I'm still not ready.
While he is in the bathroom my mind races and I start to think of something funny I can do to let him know I was awake the whole time. It didn't take long for me to figure out that I'm gonna ask him if he heard the fart I ripped earlier.
He comes back into the bedroom and is standing in front of the closet and I casually start to stretch as if I'm just waking up and I yawn and say "good morning honey". He replies with a "good morning" and he sounds a bit put off because I never woke up before and he seems to be missing something in his day already. Then I ask him "Did you hear that fart I ripped?" He asks me "When?" I tell him "Just a few mins ago when you were walking to the bathroom." He really gets angry and looks at me and yells "THAT WAS MY FART!"
He was so upset that I tried to claim his fart. You would have thought I took the last circus peanut on earth. ( grossest candy ever) I busted laughing. I was crying laughing. I tried to claim his fart. Seriously has anyone ever tried to claim someone else's fart He eventually did laugh with me. I think he realized how silly it was for him to be so upset. It's a fart. There is plenty more where that came from.
Moral of the story... if you're not going to give it to him don't try and take it away from him either.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
my struggle with religion
I wont be telling a funny story in this post. I will be exposing my own beliefs and how I've come to choose them. And as always this is a touchy subject. I welcome all comments.
I can't say I was raised Catholic but I was Christened in the Catholic church. I made my First Communion too. I never made my Confirmation. I was the youngest of three and by the time it was my turn my mother just really didn't care anymore. I don't hold this against her at all. I feel my life has been a series of fateful events and I've chosen how to react to all of them through experience.
In order to make My First Communion I remember I had to confess. I was pulled out of Sunday school class and sent to the Father's Office, I guess you would call it. I sat in front of him and he told me I had to confess my sins. I had to come up with something but I had nothing. I finally told him I stole my cousin Billy's polished rock. But in my mind I didn't steel it I had borrowed it because I had all intentions of returning it the next time I went to his house to play I just wanted to show my friends. Now that I had confessed to steeling I thought to myself I guess I better keep it now.
Lets fast fwd about 10 years. I am in the Navy and we are in Italy. Dennis and I take a tour at the Vatican. AWESOME! I loved the Architecture. I loved the ancient feel. I loved the culture. However I didn't have any feeling of a higher power being within me or around me or anywhere at all. It was a tour and I took pictures..
Now the next stop was in Israel. Let's see... we went to Bethlehem. I saw where Jesus was born. I saw where he rose from the dead. I walked the the 13 stations of Christ. I could feel a presence. And I never bought the 10 postcards for a dollah. That guy selling them seemed to perform miracles by showing up at every destination on that tour and he didn't have a vehicle.
After my oldest son was born I felt compelled to have him Baptised. I don't know why. I think it was the pressure from my mother. I had been going to the Methodist Church down the street that Dennis grew up in. I was volunteering in the nursery most Sunday's and OMGosh some of those kids were animals. So after a few months of this we get a phone call from the church asking for Dennis or Vickie McCartney. VICKIE!? My husband NEVER goes to church and you get his name right? Thanks a fn lot. And of course they were asking for money. I never went back.
So now it's maybe 1997 and I am sitting in the ice arena and another hockey mom tells me about BSF. She makes it sound so nice. I want to join because it's a non denominational Bible study and I've been wanting to read the Bible for many many years but I needed help. I join and this is an all woman group and we are separated into smaller groups according to our age and if we have children or not.
The first week I sat in the group and at the end of study most of the women asked for the group to pray for them for some reason or another. I do remember one of the women had a husband that was recently diagnosed with cancer so she asked for prayers. Now mind you I joined to learn how to read the Bible. I had no intentions of becoming anything I wasn't comfortable with just because I read a book. But by the 3rd week of class I got a phone call from the groups leader telling me that she will expect me to ask for prayers from the other ladies by next class.
I was a bit taken back by her demand and I told her I have nothing I need prayers for. She told me "We all need prayers and you can come up with something" She then asked what church I was raised in. I told her the Catholic church but I do not practice. What she said next floored me. Here it goes.. and remember, this is a non denominational bible study. "Diana you must realize that Catholics think that as long as they do good things and go to church they think they will go to Heaven. But it doesn't work that way. Catholics wont go to Heaven because they don't apply Jesus word to their everyday lives."
So there I sit on the receiving end of the phone listening to a person I barely know and also someone who has never met my family tell me I'm going to Hell along with my dead father and grandparents. At that point I politely told her I will no longer be part of the group.
So now what do I do? It's been 13 years since the last incident. I do believe Jesus was spreading compassion and love and acceptance around the world. But I don't believe he was the first one to attempt this and I don't believe he was sent by a God. And if he was sent by a God and this God is the only God why do so many people around this world have other Gods they worship? What makes them wrong and the Christian God right? The common thread in every religion is compassion. I believe I am a compassionate person. But some believe I'm evil and I am going to Hell.
I can't say I was raised Catholic but I was Christened in the Catholic church. I made my First Communion too. I never made my Confirmation. I was the youngest of three and by the time it was my turn my mother just really didn't care anymore. I don't hold this against her at all. I feel my life has been a series of fateful events and I've chosen how to react to all of them through experience.
In order to make My First Communion I remember I had to confess. I was pulled out of Sunday school class and sent to the Father's Office, I guess you would call it. I sat in front of him and he told me I had to confess my sins. I had to come up with something but I had nothing. I finally told him I stole my cousin Billy's polished rock. But in my mind I didn't steel it I had borrowed it because I had all intentions of returning it the next time I went to his house to play I just wanted to show my friends. Now that I had confessed to steeling I thought to myself I guess I better keep it now.
Lets fast fwd about 10 years. I am in the Navy and we are in Italy. Dennis and I take a tour at the Vatican. AWESOME! I loved the Architecture. I loved the ancient feel. I loved the culture. However I didn't have any feeling of a higher power being within me or around me or anywhere at all. It was a tour and I took pictures..
Now the next stop was in Israel. Let's see... we went to Bethlehem. I saw where Jesus was born. I saw where he rose from the dead. I walked the the 13 stations of Christ. I could feel a presence. And I never bought the 10 postcards for a dollah. That guy selling them seemed to perform miracles by showing up at every destination on that tour and he didn't have a vehicle.
After my oldest son was born I felt compelled to have him Baptised. I don't know why. I think it was the pressure from my mother. I had been going to the Methodist Church down the street that Dennis grew up in. I was volunteering in the nursery most Sunday's and OMGosh some of those kids were animals. So after a few months of this we get a phone call from the church asking for Dennis or Vickie McCartney. VICKIE!? My husband NEVER goes to church and you get his name right? Thanks a fn lot. And of course they were asking for money. I never went back.
So now it's maybe 1997 and I am sitting in the ice arena and another hockey mom tells me about BSF. She makes it sound so nice. I want to join because it's a non denominational Bible study and I've been wanting to read the Bible for many many years but I needed help. I join and this is an all woman group and we are separated into smaller groups according to our age and if we have children or not.
The first week I sat in the group and at the end of study most of the women asked for the group to pray for them for some reason or another. I do remember one of the women had a husband that was recently diagnosed with cancer so she asked for prayers. Now mind you I joined to learn how to read the Bible. I had no intentions of becoming anything I wasn't comfortable with just because I read a book. But by the 3rd week of class I got a phone call from the groups leader telling me that she will expect me to ask for prayers from the other ladies by next class.
I was a bit taken back by her demand and I told her I have nothing I need prayers for. She told me "We all need prayers and you can come up with something" She then asked what church I was raised in. I told her the Catholic church but I do not practice. What she said next floored me. Here it goes.. and remember, this is a non denominational bible study. "Diana you must realize that Catholics think that as long as they do good things and go to church they think they will go to Heaven. But it doesn't work that way. Catholics wont go to Heaven because they don't apply Jesus word to their everyday lives."
So there I sit on the receiving end of the phone listening to a person I barely know and also someone who has never met my family tell me I'm going to Hell along with my dead father and grandparents. At that point I politely told her I will no longer be part of the group.
So now what do I do? It's been 13 years since the last incident. I do believe Jesus was spreading compassion and love and acceptance around the world. But I don't believe he was the first one to attempt this and I don't believe he was sent by a God. And if he was sent by a God and this God is the only God why do so many people around this world have other Gods they worship? What makes them wrong and the Christian God right? The common thread in every religion is compassion. I believe I am a compassionate person. But some believe I'm evil and I am going to Hell.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
another pair of pantyhose gone bad
When I was 16 I had a friend named Tracey that pretty much lived at my house. As a matter of fact she did live with me for a few months at one time. This story involves Tracey and a pair of pantyhose. This story is also very disgusting but extremely funny (in the most disgusting way).
It was a Friday night and Tracey and I were getting the house ready to have some friends over for a party. I was in the kitchen standing at the sink doing something with my back to the rest of the house. Tracey was in my bedroom picking out clothes to wear.
Maybe two weeks or two months before this night Tracey and I witnessed another friend of ours named Chris put a knee high stocking over his head and distort his face and we pissed our pants laughing at him. His nose was flat and pulled up to his forehead and his lips were mooshed all over his face not covering his teeth at all. All the while he was doing a fantastic impression of Jack Tripper.
Soooo next thing I know Tracey is yelling my name from the hallway "Diana who do I look like?". I turn around and there she is.. she had a pair of my pantyhose over her head. You all know how much I love pantyhose.."TRACEY GET THOSE OFF YOUR HEAD!" I screamed. I run towards her and she panics and yanks the damn things off her head and asks "What's wrong?"
This is what was wrong...Earlier that day while wearing those pantyhose I started my period. gosh go figure... And of course I wasn't prepared and those pantyhose no longer had a white cotton crotch. I still can't believe Tracey did not see that huge stain stretched across her face. It was a small scene from a low budget horror movie. Even worse..did she not smell it? Is anyone laughing at this story. I know I am but I do have a warped sence of humor.
It was a Friday night and Tracey and I were getting the house ready to have some friends over for a party. I was in the kitchen standing at the sink doing something with my back to the rest of the house. Tracey was in my bedroom picking out clothes to wear.
Maybe two weeks or two months before this night Tracey and I witnessed another friend of ours named Chris put a knee high stocking over his head and distort his face and we pissed our pants laughing at him. His nose was flat and pulled up to his forehead and his lips were mooshed all over his face not covering his teeth at all. All the while he was doing a fantastic impression of Jack Tripper.
Soooo next thing I know Tracey is yelling my name from the hallway "Diana who do I look like?". I turn around and there she is.. she had a pair of my pantyhose over her head. You all know how much I love pantyhose.."TRACEY GET THOSE OFF YOUR HEAD!" I screamed. I run towards her and she panics and yanks the damn things off her head and asks "What's wrong?"
This is what was wrong...Earlier that day while wearing those pantyhose I started my period. gosh go figure... And of course I wasn't prepared and those pantyhose no longer had a white cotton crotch. I still can't believe Tracey did not see that huge stain stretched across her face. It was a small scene from a low budget horror movie. Even worse..did she not smell it? Is anyone laughing at this story. I know I am but I do have a warped sence of humor.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
a Simons Cat moment....
This is my catnip story
It was October 1999. Our house was for sale and we were getting ready for a showing. I had the Yankee McIntosh candle burning and a big bowl of MacIntosh apples out on display. We packed the kids up and the dog and headed out to do some shopping while the showing was being held. Don't worry I blew the candle out before we left..The house smelled and looked amazing on a nice fall day.
While we were shopping I picked up some catnip and toilet paper and a few other household items. We took the boys for some lunch and waited an hour and a half after the showing started to return to the house.
When we got home we pretty much let the dog in, put the grocery bags on the kitchen counter, noticed there was no realtor card left from the showing and headed out again because Dennis read a bit of the Sunday paper at the kitchen table and there was some special football game being played at the stadium across the street. We grabbed the boys and left the house to go watch the game.
About two hours later we walked back home opened the door and walked into what looked like a tornado had hit the kitchen and dining room. There were plastic grocery bags lying on the floor torn to shreds and the bag of catnip was torn open and weed was scattered from the coutertops all over the kitchen floor and into the diningroom. The Sunday paper had been run across and thrown onto the floor in several places. It was such a sight..We just kind laughed at it all. The aftermath of a kitty crack rampage was being witnessed. The cat had a shit load of fun and was no where to be found at this point and we had some cleaning to do.
It didn't take long for someone to discover the realtor card that was now in the house which was NOT in the house before we left for the football game. The laughter came to a screaching halt and now we wondered..did the cat do us a favor and wait till the realtor and potential buyers left to have all of her fun ORRRRRR did the cat not have any self control after getting a sweet waft of catnip in the air.
It was bad enough the realtor came after we went shopping and left everything out but to think they came into a house and saw the crazy mess that was going on is a hard thing to swallow.
It was October 1999. Our house was for sale and we were getting ready for a showing. I had the Yankee McIntosh candle burning and a big bowl of MacIntosh apples out on display. We packed the kids up and the dog and headed out to do some shopping while the showing was being held. Don't worry I blew the candle out before we left..The house smelled and looked amazing on a nice fall day.
While we were shopping I picked up some catnip and toilet paper and a few other household items. We took the boys for some lunch and waited an hour and a half after the showing started to return to the house.
When we got home we pretty much let the dog in, put the grocery bags on the kitchen counter, noticed there was no realtor card left from the showing and headed out again because Dennis read a bit of the Sunday paper at the kitchen table and there was some special football game being played at the stadium across the street. We grabbed the boys and left the house to go watch the game.
About two hours later we walked back home opened the door and walked into what looked like a tornado had hit the kitchen and dining room. There were plastic grocery bags lying on the floor torn to shreds and the bag of catnip was torn open and weed was scattered from the coutertops all over the kitchen floor and into the diningroom. The Sunday paper had been run across and thrown onto the floor in several places. It was such a sight..We just kind laughed at it all. The aftermath of a kitty crack rampage was being witnessed. The cat had a shit load of fun and was no where to be found at this point and we had some cleaning to do.
It didn't take long for someone to discover the realtor card that was now in the house which was NOT in the house before we left for the football game. The laughter came to a screaching halt and now we wondered..did the cat do us a favor and wait till the realtor and potential buyers left to have all of her fun ORRRRRR did the cat not have any self control after getting a sweet waft of catnip in the air.
It was bad enough the realtor came after we went shopping and left everything out but to think they came into a house and saw the crazy mess that was going on is a hard thing to swallow.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Ya I ate it...
This story got a good laugh last night so it's a post today. Hopefully a much shorter post than the last which I found I lost someones interest half way through and they never read the ending to the story. TOM!
So I believe I was 14 and I had my friend Holly over at our summer home on Plum Island. It was lunch time and we were inside in the livingroom eating. I was in a chair and Holly was sitting on the sofa about 10 ft away from me. I made ham sandwich's for lunch.
I had maybe taken one or two bites of my sandwich and was going in for a third bite when I noticed that it looked like something had fallen out of my sandwich and landed on my chest. So what do I do? I pick it up and eat it of course. It was my sandwich after all right?
Once I swallowed the suspicious meat Holly immediately screamed "GROSS I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST ATE THAT" huh? What the heck is her problem? I ate a piece of my sandwich that fell out of the bread. Shutup and finish yours.
HOLLY: I had a piece of meat in my mouth that was gristly and couldn't chew it enough to eat it so I threw it at you and you ate it!!
Ya I ate it...
So I believe I was 14 and I had my friend Holly over at our summer home on Plum Island. It was lunch time and we were inside in the livingroom eating. I was in a chair and Holly was sitting on the sofa about 10 ft away from me. I made ham sandwich's for lunch.
I had maybe taken one or two bites of my sandwich and was going in for a third bite when I noticed that it looked like something had fallen out of my sandwich and landed on my chest. So what do I do? I pick it up and eat it of course. It was my sandwich after all right?
Once I swallowed the suspicious meat Holly immediately screamed "GROSS I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST ATE THAT" huh? What the heck is her problem? I ate a piece of my sandwich that fell out of the bread. Shutup and finish yours.
HOLLY: I had a piece of meat in my mouth that was gristly and couldn't chew it enough to eat it so I threw it at you and you ate it!!
Ya I ate it...
Thursday, March 31, 2011
my husband and me
This post is for my husband.
I want to tell everyone and anyone who reads this that my husband is my life. We have been together for 25yrs! One quarter of a century. We have grown to be almost one. We finish each others sentences. We call or text each other with the same thoughts. We make each other laugh everyday. We are each others best friends.
Dennis and I met on the USS Puget Sound in late May of 1986. We knew each other by our last names. He was McCartney and I was Jean. (Mary) Porter took me around the machine shop and introduced me to all the MR's. Petty Officer McCartney was the last one I met. There he stood. In his dungarees. I couldn't read his name that was stamped over the left breast pocket of his shirt because there was a full tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush and I believe some dental floss sticking out of his pocket. Porter says "McCartney this is Jean" McCartney immediately impressed me by doing "The Dance" Up on his toes his fists in front of him pumping. (think Pee Wee Herman, Tequila) He sang his name to me and then scooted off to dental for his appointment.
We worked with each other in the Machine shop and we talked and got to know each other. Other than "The Dance" The first thing he did I remember laughing at was he took a piece of paper that was long and thin and he made it swim in the air and with his best Jacques Cousteau impression he said "This is the male paper fish" I was smitten with his humor at that point.
As the days went on and I became more comfortable on the ship and got to know more people McCartney had started to show some interest in me by asking me on a date. One time he asked me and I had duty that weekend. Which meant I couldn't leave the ship at all. I had to stand watch. I thanked Paul for asking me though. (doh his name is Dennis. I could never remember that) It seemed every time he asked me I would already have plans. Until one day my plans happened to be going to the laundromat to do my laundry and he offered to bring me. McCartney had a car on base and I didn't so this would work out beautifully.
We got to the laundromat and got the laundry going and sat and talked and learned a lot about each other that night. When the clothes were in the dryer McCartney looked over and asked "What's that?" Well come to find out I had left and o.b. tampon in my pants pocket and it went through the wash and now was in the dryer but it was the size of a basketball and all fluffy going around and around and around. Hmmmm way to impress. McCartney saved a kitten from under a car that night too. He also took me to an Italian restaurant on Virginia Beach. After dinner we walked the beach and the sun was setting and we noticed on the waters edge there were lots of little jelly fish. We got our dog tags and started tapping the jellyfish and watched them glow a vibrant green. How cool that was! He drove me back to the ship and walked me to my berthing and said goodnight.
What the hell kind of date was that? He never tried to kiss me, he didn't even try to hold my hand. I must be a lousy date. This is embarrassing that I wasn't attractive enough for him to try any moves on me. Every other boy I had been on a "date" with wanted to be repaid somehow with some sort of sexual favor. Isn't that the way it's supposed to be?
Before muster the next morning I was sitting in front of a horizontal boring machine and McCartney sat down next to me. He started a conversation and if any of you know me I have terrible comprehension issues. Whatever he had said to me doesn't matter at this point but my answer was totally off the wall and the look he gave me was priceless. Once I realized I misunderstood what he said I explained what I actually heard. To which he replied "oh you had a stupid attack?" Again I still did not comprehend what was said and answered with "No I'm not Italian." WOW! now the look on his face was beyond priceless. We had our first long big laugh together. And I got a sparkle in my eye for him.
McCartney and Jean became an item. We had our first kiss after a date to go see 'Top Gun' I initiated it. We were in his 1966 Dodge Polara that I was shocked to find out was his. I had been walking the parking lot for a month and would always stop and look at this red Dodge. I loved it but thought whomever owned it was a slob because there was always laundry hanging over the seats and he had 2 house speakers in the back seat. I was so happy and having so much fun.
In August the ship went to Gitmo to train for battle. Before we left Dennis and I were out sitting on the trunk of his Polara just talking and I jumped down and turned around to him and hugged him and realized "I LOVE THIS GUY" I LOVE DENNIS MCCARTNEY (yup I remembered his name finally) It was a wave of feelings I had NEVER had before. It was the feeling of safety and comfort and forever. I found him and knew he was meant for me.
While we were in Gitmo we had long days on the ship that were so GD hot and almost unbearable but once we were able to leave the ship at night it was a tropical paradise. We would get care packages from home filled with goodies but for some reason Dennis always ran to the post office and the packages would always be opened by the time he got back to the shop. He always shared with everyone. It was a fabulous time. Then one day while I was in our locker I found a hometown newspaper from Coleman MI tucked way in the back. I thought it would be fun to read something from Den's hometown so I pulled it out and I read it. What I read was a shock to me. There was a picture of Dennis and a girl named Valerie announcing their engagement! : ( Come to find out all the care packages were sent by her. When he asked me on a date the weekend I had duty he knew I had duty and that I wouldn't be able to go out with him and he was actually on his way to see HER in Indiana at Butler College. He was laying the ground work.
We arrived back in VA in September and he called her and explained the situation. I waited outside the payphone booths for more than an hour while he talked with her. The man I loved was breaking a heart for me. She sent back the engagement rings and yes I wore them because he had proposed to me while we were in Gitmo. We did trade them in for a my own set.
If I had to do it over again I would in a heartbeat. It was an extremely trying event for a young girl. I knew he would take care of me though. I never lost my love for him. So now 25 years later and lots of other trying times we are still one. We are by no means a perfect couple. What Dennis and I share is respect for each other and when we find ourselves in a predicament of not getting the respect we think/know we deserve, we speak up and let the other one know about it. This has saved our marriage over and over.
Dennis I love you with all my heart and there is no one else on this earth that could ever take your place. You are my bestest friend in the whole wide world and our journey together till the end will be forever cherished.
I want to tell everyone and anyone who reads this that my husband is my life. We have been together for 25yrs! One quarter of a century. We have grown to be almost one. We finish each others sentences. We call or text each other with the same thoughts. We make each other laugh everyday. We are each others best friends.
Dennis and I met on the USS Puget Sound in late May of 1986. We knew each other by our last names. He was McCartney and I was Jean. (Mary) Porter took me around the machine shop and introduced me to all the MR's. Petty Officer McCartney was the last one I met. There he stood. In his dungarees. I couldn't read his name that was stamped over the left breast pocket of his shirt because there was a full tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush and I believe some dental floss sticking out of his pocket. Porter says "McCartney this is Jean" McCartney immediately impressed me by doing "The Dance" Up on his toes his fists in front of him pumping. (think Pee Wee Herman, Tequila) He sang his name to me and then scooted off to dental for his appointment.
We worked with each other in the Machine shop and we talked and got to know each other. Other than "The Dance" The first thing he did I remember laughing at was he took a piece of paper that was long and thin and he made it swim in the air and with his best Jacques Cousteau impression he said "This is the male paper fish" I was smitten with his humor at that point.
As the days went on and I became more comfortable on the ship and got to know more people McCartney had started to show some interest in me by asking me on a date. One time he asked me and I had duty that weekend. Which meant I couldn't leave the ship at all. I had to stand watch. I thanked Paul for asking me though. (doh his name is Dennis. I could never remember that) It seemed every time he asked me I would already have plans. Until one day my plans happened to be going to the laundromat to do my laundry and he offered to bring me. McCartney had a car on base and I didn't so this would work out beautifully.
We got to the laundromat and got the laundry going and sat and talked and learned a lot about each other that night. When the clothes were in the dryer McCartney looked over and asked "What's that?" Well come to find out I had left and o.b. tampon in my pants pocket and it went through the wash and now was in the dryer but it was the size of a basketball and all fluffy going around and around and around. Hmmmm way to impress. McCartney saved a kitten from under a car that night too. He also took me to an Italian restaurant on Virginia Beach. After dinner we walked the beach and the sun was setting and we noticed on the waters edge there were lots of little jelly fish. We got our dog tags and started tapping the jellyfish and watched them glow a vibrant green. How cool that was! He drove me back to the ship and walked me to my berthing and said goodnight.
What the hell kind of date was that? He never tried to kiss me, he didn't even try to hold my hand. I must be a lousy date. This is embarrassing that I wasn't attractive enough for him to try any moves on me. Every other boy I had been on a "date" with wanted to be repaid somehow with some sort of sexual favor. Isn't that the way it's supposed to be?
Before muster the next morning I was sitting in front of a horizontal boring machine and McCartney sat down next to me. He started a conversation and if any of you know me I have terrible comprehension issues. Whatever he had said to me doesn't matter at this point but my answer was totally off the wall and the look he gave me was priceless. Once I realized I misunderstood what he said I explained what I actually heard. To which he replied "oh you had a stupid attack?" Again I still did not comprehend what was said and answered with "No I'm not Italian." WOW! now the look on his face was beyond priceless. We had our first long big laugh together. And I got a sparkle in my eye for him.
McCartney and Jean became an item. We had our first kiss after a date to go see 'Top Gun' I initiated it. We were in his 1966 Dodge Polara that I was shocked to find out was his. I had been walking the parking lot for a month and would always stop and look at this red Dodge. I loved it but thought whomever owned it was a slob because there was always laundry hanging over the seats and he had 2 house speakers in the back seat. I was so happy and having so much fun.
In August the ship went to Gitmo to train for battle. Before we left Dennis and I were out sitting on the trunk of his Polara just talking and I jumped down and turned around to him and hugged him and realized "I LOVE THIS GUY" I LOVE DENNIS MCCARTNEY (yup I remembered his name finally) It was a wave of feelings I had NEVER had before. It was the feeling of safety and comfort and forever. I found him and knew he was meant for me.
While we were in Gitmo we had long days on the ship that were so GD hot and almost unbearable but once we were able to leave the ship at night it was a tropical paradise. We would get care packages from home filled with goodies but for some reason Dennis always ran to the post office and the packages would always be opened by the time he got back to the shop. He always shared with everyone. It was a fabulous time. Then one day while I was in our locker I found a hometown newspaper from Coleman MI tucked way in the back. I thought it would be fun to read something from Den's hometown so I pulled it out and I read it. What I read was a shock to me. There was a picture of Dennis and a girl named Valerie announcing their engagement! : ( Come to find out all the care packages were sent by her. When he asked me on a date the weekend I had duty he knew I had duty and that I wouldn't be able to go out with him and he was actually on his way to see HER in Indiana at Butler College. He was laying the ground work.
We arrived back in VA in September and he called her and explained the situation. I waited outside the payphone booths for more than an hour while he talked with her. The man I loved was breaking a heart for me. She sent back the engagement rings and yes I wore them because he had proposed to me while we were in Gitmo. We did trade them in for a my own set.
If I had to do it over again I would in a heartbeat. It was an extremely trying event for a young girl. I knew he would take care of me though. I never lost my love for him. So now 25 years later and lots of other trying times we are still one. We are by no means a perfect couple. What Dennis and I share is respect for each other and when we find ourselves in a predicament of not getting the respect we think/know we deserve, we speak up and let the other one know about it. This has saved our marriage over and over.
Dennis I love you with all my heart and there is no one else on this earth that could ever take your place. You are my bestest friend in the whole wide world and our journey together till the end will be forever cherished.
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