More Randomness. You've Been Warned.

My uncle helping me to adjus my
beret after my commissioning
ceremony post-graduation.

We were going to head out to the lake today—my father, mother, youngest brother, and myself—but the weather isn't cooperating. Thunderstorms + boat + swimming do not exactly mix. Instead, my dad is taking the cover off of the pool for the first time this summer and I'm staring at the trees in the backyard as I sit in comfortable air conditioning. The computer room happens to sit across from the woods and is full of huge windows, so I get to stare at the overwhelming greenness, still glistening from last night's rain, through the glass and white lattice. It's a nice view.
 
And yes, I know, I'm spoiled. We have a pool. My parents are well-off. I'm lucky. Sue me. I'm still very much so blazing my own path, independent of their influence or financial support, and that's exactly how we decided to have it. They told me, way back when I was applying for college, that the choice would be entirely mine and they would have zero input. They would offer advice if I asked for it, recommendations for the application process, etc, but they would not remotely dictate (or even have an opinion) on where I should ultimately go. So. I chose West Point, and my mother cried and then got over it, and my dad was proud but slightly confused. I finished up my time there and voila, now I'm a 2LT in the Army. I have a guaranteed job for as long as I want one, provided that I don't do something incredibly stupid like drink and drive. I also have zero student debt, which in today's plummeting economy is a pretty darn sweet deal. I'm definitely lucky. Anyway, my point is that my parents worked very hard for what they have, and taught me to work hard for what I want, so that's what I'm doing.

Moving back to my original topic—sorta—before I got distracted by the knowledge that my parents having a pool in the backyard (it IS an above ground, redneck-style pool, by the way, so don't hate too much) might ruffle some feathers. As it always does, seeing the trees in summer fills me with the urge to go run and frolic in the woods. Since I have zero obligations until July 10, I might do precisely that once my tattoo heals a little more. It's on my foot, so I'm somewhat limited in my shoe choice until the two-week babying period has passed. I'm very anal about taking care of my tattoos. They recommend applying an unscented lotion at least 3-4 times a day until all the scabbing is done, but I obsessively apply it every 3-4 hours instead. It's ridiculous. Of course, it keeps the itching nonexistent (which most people complain of) and really does help them to heal nicely. The one on my left back/shoulderblade turned out fabulously, and I was just as obsessive with my lotion application on that one, too.

I did warn you: I'm obsessed with my new tattoo. I'll probably comment about it in the next few posts until the "hey look what I got!" feeling wears off more. I still show off my first tattoo to anyone who expresses even the remotest interest in it, so no guarantees on how quickly that will go away. From what I hear, the "hey look what I got!" feeling lasts about a year…so maybe by next May I won't care about it as much and it will be just another part of my foot.

In the mean time, here's the agenda for the rest of my lazy Saturday:

1. Let my very unhealthy lunch of pizza digest while watching Star Trek
2. Lift weights (I would run but…still being cautious about my foot lol)
3. Shower, get pretty, etc
4. Play some guitar & work on those new songs I want to record
5. Car shopping/researching (need a new one before I go to Missouri)
6. Dinner with the family
7. Unplanned fun time! Woohoo
8. Then…start planning an epic ritual for the New Moon since it'll be my first post-grad Esbat!