I'm still here... Just hiding under some boxes

Yeah, yeah... I know... I have fallen off the face of the earth! Well, at least my blog has been severely neglected and I feel awful about that. I have just been sooo busy with unpacking boxes, throwing out boxes, unpacking more boxes, taking the dog for a walk, hanging up curtains, making dinner, spending time with Mr. Top Gun, and still attempting to be a functioning human being in this foreign land! This is how the delivery of our household goods went:
* Movers arrive, ring doorbell.
* I buzz them in from the upstairs and go down to greet them.
* I am then yelled at by the 'head' mover and told to do something... He yelled at me in Japanese, so I have no idea what he said. 
* I yell up to Mr. Top Gun to come down, and as soon as he sees Mr. Top Gun, he says to HIM in ENGLISH: "You move car?" WTF? Here we go with this whole we don't speak to women rule again!!!
* Furniture begins making its way into my home, carried on the backs of small Japanese men who mutter the numbers on the orange stickers placed on each box, muttered so fast and quiet that I can't hear them at all. They proceed to run the furniture up the stairs, down the stairs, up the stairs, down the stairs...
*I abandon asking them for the numbers and do not even try to listen to their muttering, so in my own attempt at checking the numbers off of my sheet in front of me, I physically inspect each box myself (with the help of Mr. Top Gun, of course.)
* Our bed proves to be a bit tricky to bring up three flights of stairs and three floors, causing them to scratch some of my wall downstairs by the entryway. SO NOT happy about this!
*Said bed is put together, and then I hear this: "Hello? Excuse me?" I run upstairs and see one of the guys pointing to the planks which support the bed, and he says: "Missing." Seriously? Mr. Top Gun is called upstairs and explains to me that we can't find the three pegs required to stabilize the center part of the bed, after the boxspring is put on. 
*Mr. Top Gun then asks for the movers to completely re-check the entire contents of the trash in the truck, just to ensure the pegs weren't thrown away. NO PEGS ARE FOUND.
* Movers finish taking trash outside, and leave my home.
* Mr. Top Gun and I leave to find a solution to fixing the unstabilized bed, and return home with a bunch of magazines we took from the base. (Old catalogs, actually!)
* Said catalogs DO NOT HELP. AT ALL.
* I decide to take a chance and open up a box labeled "Lamp Shades," figuring I might find the pegs- lucky try right? Guess what? I FIND THEM!!! How they were packed with lamp shades, I do not know. Mr. Top Gun and I are very happy people now, knowing that we shall sleep upon our glorious bed!


* Bed is fixed, new Vera Wang sheets are put in the wash (thanks for the oh so decadent sheets, Nana!) 
* Couches, tables, kitchen table and TV stand are put in place. Curtains are finished being hung, I attempt to open a few boxes of dishes and decide to close them up... for now...
* Mr. Top Gun and I sit down on our comfy couches and snuggle. 
* His cellphone rings. It is a friend inviting us to dinner at his place, then to a party at another friends place. 
* I RUN upstairs to get dressed, changing out of my 'moving day' clothes in record time, and we leave for the evening. I AM EXHAUSTED, but being with friends is always a good thing.
* Party time comes and goes, and as we are walking home I realize I didn't put the sheets in the dryer! An hour and a half later, sheets are dry, the bed is made and Mr. Top Gun and I pass out in it. I haven't slept that well since we left Texas!! 
   
         Pictures to come soon of the house decorating in progress!!!

Sleep? What is that?

We survived day one of moving and packing. We are alive, but completely drained and exhausted. The good news is that everything went off without a glitch yesterday! We had the most phenomenal moving crew, and they came in to our storage unit (half of our other stuff has been in storage for ever) and went to work- without me having to 'bark' orders at them, which made the move sooo much easier. However, I discovered that I have a secret addiction... I have TONS of DISHWARE!! So much that a good 1o huge boxes were filled and packed to the brim with them. Hey, in my defense I entertain a lot, and I am required to have a lot of china and dishes and fancy glassware. Besides, what woman doesn't need her Kitchen Aide Artisan mixer and all the matching red Fiesta Ware? In all, things went great! My parents stayed with us to supervise and provide some much needed comic entertainment during our long 11 hour day. My Dad and Mr. Top Gun left mid-way through to bring us all back delicious tacos from the BEST little Mexican meat market/restaurant, and we sat on the floor eating them together.

We are dead tired this morning though. Today is our last day of packing at the house, when they come for our express shipment items. As of late, we still have not received a phone call from them stating what TIME they will show up. *Ugh* I have a bad feeling about today, but I'm really trying to stay positive. Mr. Top Gun said he is so tired he feels as if he were out all night drinking, and woke up with a nasty hangover. I feel the same way, and have a lack of sleep induced headache. Isn't PCSing a joy?

Crate number one being loaded!

Mr. Top Gun rolling my Dad in on the dolley. Dad is sitting on top of our HUGE tempurpedic mattress topper, and the other guys are the movers. I think it looks like my Dad is on top of a giant jelly roll!

Scanning and Surveillance...

The light bulbs that had to be taken out from one of our lamps. Naturally, my Dad stepped in and took them. He also swiped about 10 rolls of the good packing tape. Yes, that's my Dad!

The Crates have arrived, the Crates have arrived!

Yeah for PCS! Not really though. Hopefully today goes quickly, but I'm not so sure about that. Can I go to bed yet?

PCS induced schizophrenia, and Mr. Top Gun gets his feet done...

Does PCS'ing make you crazy? It there such a thing as PCS induced schizophrenia? Well, if so- guess what? The Top Gun's have this disease, and judging by the photos shown below I think we both need to be committed. Thanks for the craziness, Air Force! I totally LOVE you right now. Where are my medicines at? Seriously, at this point I don't think our lives could possibly get any crazier or crappy, and if so then feel free to just throw ANYTHING else you may have in store my way- I'm ready, waiting, and will deal with it (in my high heels, of course.)

Anyways, the other evening Mr. Top Gun and I were watching t.v. and I asked him if I could draw on him. Yes, like give him a tattoo or two... See, Mrs. Top Gun has two tattoos and that makes me the 'naughty girl' in Mr. Top Gun's eyes. He has none, and never will, so me drawing on him with a sharpie is as close to 'getting inked' that he shall ever get. He looked at me like I was a space cadet, and then agreed to let me 'ink' him up! On his feet only though... I asked why, and he says: "No one can see my feet in my flight boots. Besides how gay would it be if I had to get a physical or something, and all of a sudden I bend over and the guys see my lower back tattoo drawn by you." First, when does a pop up flight physical occur? It's not time for him to get one, so I figured he would let me ink his lower back. Nope. Oh well, I got his feet!

See, Mr. Top Gun really does LOVE TEXAS!

I drew a star on his left foot with a silver sharpie marker. His big toe got a smiley face! I later learned that silver sharpie marker is HARD as HECK to remove, so Mr. Top Gun walked around with silly looking feet for a few days.

These photos are proof that PCS'ing does make you crazy. So, for those of you that have made the BIG MOVE (overseas or not) what crazy thing (s) did you do? I would like to hope I am not actually going insane!

PCS dinner, TMO crap, Airline tickets and Mrs. Top Gun loses it...

This is what Mrs. Top Gun's Hot Dog looked like...

And these are Mr. Top Gun's Hot dogs...

Ok, I know- I have fallen off the face of the earth for these past few days, so I thought I would attempt to bring you up to speed on what the HELL has been going on in the world of Mr. and Mrs. Top Gun... First, let it be known that I, am not a huge fan of hot dogs. Never was as a kid, still aren't as an adult. But, Mr. Top Gun loves them- especially his chili cheese ones. My enormous hot dog with nothing on it is just funny looking! Mr. Top Gun thought I should be the one eating the LONG WEENIE... haha... what a character he is. For the record, I only put mustard on my hot dog, and as you can tell from the photo, Mr. Top Guns hot dogs are ridiculous, and the cheese and chili were actually falling out of them as he ate them! I made a pasta salad to accompany the meal, as well as baked beans. Please excuse the PAPER PLATES. Yes, I know they are super KLASSY! Don't be jealous of them. Our home is in disarray right now, boxes are all over and our red fiesta dishware has been packed already.

Today is only Wednesday, and we have been running around the base trying to get everything in order for our soon to be PCS. Monday we went to TMO to speak to a "counselor," who ironically was NOT in the office. Typical right? We get our required paperwork filled out, approved, stamped and Mr. Top Gun goes into his Squadron to say hello. I, got to sit in the car while some idiotic new people attempted to figure out who the hell he was... I understand he wears different flight patches, and that his wings don't look as 'bright' as everyone else's (Special Ops patches are subdued, so people really have to look hard to see them) *Awesome?* YES. Me watching him have to run around like crazy, and being a bit helpless?? Not so fun. We manage to schedule an appt. for 0800 the next day for our briefing with TMO. I don't do ANYTHING before 1000, and getting up today was HELL. I get dressed, and am just ready to put on my lipstick and his phone rings. Guess who? TMO needs to re-schedule the appt. to later in the day- much later, and this didn't sit right with me. Why? a 20 minute 'courtesy call' is crap. At this point, I've been up since 0600, showered, dressed and made Mr. Top Gun breakfast, so I am not the happiest person at this time.

So, I went back to bed and Mr. Top Gun went into the Squadron for like 20 minutes. He later joined me in a nice, long nap until our crappy briefing. Fast forward to after the briefing now... I am exhausted, thirsty, hungry, and I just want to get home. We get home and it hits me: We are leaving really, really soon for an overseas assignment and I am holding the ticket confirmation for our flights. Cue the tears, pacing around the house and then an all out *BREAK DOWN* I lost it tonight and turned into a messy, bawling bag of tears. And I mean the type of tears that come with the ugliest cry you can imagine. Thank goodness we had my Nana and Grandpa here with us- or I would have been committed tonight. Then, my Mom calls. She starts crying and I hear my Dad crying in the background. Great. Then guess what? Mr. Top Gun's Mom calls him and she is crying! In all, today was the day this PCS really hit me, and I just couldn't hold it in anymore. PCS'ing sucks, and moving away from your family for a few years hurts like hell. So, for those of you near your family and friends right now: Love them with all your heart and soul, spend as much time with them as you can. Because a PCS changes everything with the blink of an eye.

Saying goodbye to my car and talking about a baby...

This is Mrs. Top Gun's car. Her name is "Bella." She is my baby, I love her. She is shiny, hasn't got a ding or scratch upon her and has lived in a garage since being driven off the Acura lot. When Mr. Top Gun came home a few months ago, he informed me that we would be moving to JAPAN, and that we couldn't take our cars with us. What!?!? Mr. Top Gun had just purchased a brand spankin new 2008 Black Pathfinder, 4 wheel drive, fully loaded and suddenly we find ourselves having to find homes for our cars. BOO. My car is going to be gifted to my dad! He loves my car, always has and being the incredible Husband to my Mom, he really never has owned his own new car- ever. My Mom has always gotten a new car every 4 years, and my Dad just purchases a used one. I am happy to say that my car shall be going to a good home! Mrs. Top Gun's Dad needs to sell his older Acura anyways, and the money he gets from the sell is going to fund my 'new' car in Japan.

Mr. Top Gun is going to sell his SUV to a local dealer or try to sell to a fellow Military member. If not, his SUV goes into the garage at his parents, and will sit there for a good three years. Now, that is my rant for the day. And to make it worse? I get a letter from my XM radio company, explaining that I need to renew my service soon. Ironic much? Turns out that the service expires on the exact date the Top Gun's will be gone from the states. Oh well. I call my Dad and he takes over the service! He is like a kid in a candy shop right now, and I'm glad he doesn't have the keys yet... He wants to drive that car, and he wants it now!

The upside of giving up my car? Mr. Top Gun has promised me a brand new BMW when we return stateside!! Don't I just have the most fabulous husband? See, I told you he indulges me. I heart you, Mr. Top Gun. Now, let's get to making a baby!

***** Yes, a baby. We had the talk. Looks like Mrs. Top Gun is going to start a family in Japan, sometime soon. *****