CLICK HERE FOR BLOGGER TEMPLATES AND MYSPACE LAYOUTS »

Friday, January 27, 2012

The Great Toilet Paper Wars of Destin Florida-

     So, here we are, in God's Waiting Room.  Well, its at least where the wealthy people are waiting.  There may very well be other areas of Florida where the less well to do wait.  We can consider ourselves fairly safe then-we are definitely not in their money league in this area!  Condos by the hundreds, reaching to the skies.  Restaurants of every description, costing varying amounts.  Tourist area.  Okay for a vacation, if you have the dough.  Maybe not so much if you're like us-living on the road, and not being among the monied people...

     We're staying at an Army MWR recreation area (that's morale, welfare and recreation for you civilians out there).  Its right on Choctawhatchee Bay, which is, yes, beautiful.  Its a contained area here, with an RV park, some cottages, and some hotel like facilities, which is our particular area.  Its a 2 minute walk to the pier, which is nice, and we stroll out there to watch some of the amazing sunsets.
     You ask-what do you mean "toilet paper wars"? and well you might.  Want me to tell you?  It has gotten stressful enough that my handsome husband and I have had way too many conversations about it, and about the housekeeping. Or the lack of both.  Are you kidding me, you ask.  NO! I'm not kidding you!  Let me fill you in on my petty worry that has become a war.  Things at this MWR facility slow down greatly, of course, during the off season.  Upon our arrival, we were handed a paper that explained the housekeeping schedule.  Tuesdays and Thursdays-bathroom thoroughly cleaned.  Entire room cleaned on Saturday.  Excellent!  Not that I'm averse to maintaining a room by myself (yes, I am actually, at this point in my life), but we're staying at a place where its included in the cost.  And amenities are included.  So here's the thing.  For the first week or so, the dude was on schedule and all was good.  But a weird thing...he'd only leave one roll of tp on the roll.  Which worked basically, but, you know, sometimes things are going on that makes you go through one more quickly than you might otherwise.  And I won't bore or horrify any of the guys reading this by getting too graphic with details but let me just say, my ablation and emergency D& C didn't work well, and apparently my body is still attempting to find its' balance  *there's a hysterectomy in my future*.  Maybe it will be more palatable to all of you who like those crime scene shows if I tell you that what happens to me makes the shower scene in the Hitchcock movie look like a walk in the park?  You get my point here.  And one roll of toilet paper.  And after the first couple weeks, suddenly the housekeeping dude changes the housekeeping schedule, or doesn't go by one at all.  We never know when he's going to show, or leave any amenities (read: toilet paper).  Early on, ignorant me requested an extra roll from him when I saw him outside our building.  He begrudgingly gave me one, then informed me that, from here on out, I'd have to take it up with management, if I needed more than one roll for the week.
     Yes, people, this is stressful!  Handsome husband and I go exercise walking in the mornings.  We get back and need showers.  Housekeeping has never gone in while we're walking.  Somehow he seems to show up when Handsome is just out of the shower, and, if asked to return in 20 minutes, allowing time to dress (how rude of us!), he just doesn't show back up. Or he doesn't come at all that day. At one point we decided to take back our power and we put up the "do not disturb" sign on Monday, when he wasn't supposed to be there anyway, but just to get back on track.  We didn't see him for the rest of the week, including no toilet paper.  Today, he was in our building area in the morning, while we were getting ready, left, and never came back while we were gone (for the entire afternoon). And when we got back, and I should type this next part in caps because, yes, I want to yell this aloud-there was NO toilet paper on the roll at all, even though it was empty because we ran out two days ago!
     Have I spent enough time on this subject yet?  Yes I have!  Except that now I need to tell you that this is what happens when our government contracts out.  And can you believe that the government could, and does, do a better job of managing than contractors?  Because, at least in this, they do.  We've stayed at military bases and facilities around the country and NEVER run into this.  The management of this place is contracted out to the lowest bidder, and, guess where they're saving money?  Yes, apparently in rationing toilet paper!  Its become, in my mind, a contraband material!  Like in the current war zones, it is a very valuable commodity, and, like they traded cigarettes in WW2, I could probably trade toilet paper with other residents here for, I don't know, drugs or something.  That's how insane this has become!  I need rescue remedy big time.  Suffice to say, people, we are NOT returning here next year, and I encourage all of you to not visit here.  Or if you do, bring your own toilet paper.  You'll be sorry if you don't.  And be prepared for shoddy housekeeping services, whether they are promised or not as part of your cost.  It ain't happening.  Consider yourself warned. But don't worry.  I'll soldier through until we finally leave on the 11.  But please do be thinking of me, and remember, I took this bullet for you...
     Who knew a toilet paper war would ever happen in my life?

Friday, January 13, 2012

Those dredded moments...

     For months, I've been obsessing about dreds!  Getting them, that is.  I've educated myself about the how to's with youtube.  My most loving husband has willingly watched those vids too; after all, he would be the dred enforcer when it finally happened...
     We had one false start a week or so ago.  It just didn't seem to be working, so we agreed that the best thing to do would be to view more vids on putting in dreds, and we would revisit the issue.
     Yesterday was D-day.  We'd watched, we'd seen, we were sure we knew how to do the dredded dreds!  (It really is amazing how overwhelming the whole subject has been to me.  You don't just not wash your hair and let it knot-there's a whole process to it-who knew?!)

     We had the metal comb, we had the wax, we had the clear color mini bands, we had the music, the snacks (well, I did at least).  We were pumped!!!  This is how I envisioned me looking after we were done, or at least, 3-6 months from now when the dreds had time to really lock and, well......load!


     Eight hours later, with more thanks to my husband (called Chaz by me as his alter ego when he helps me with my hair at various times), we had what we could consider, and really thought were....dreds!  And I think they were-we just didn't have the confidence to go with the end result.  Or at least they had the possibility of being dreds in that 3-6 month timeframe.  His fingers hurt, from the constant twisting and tearing and maneuvering of the metal comb.  My head hurt, from all the pulling and twisting and tearing and pressure.  But that was all part of it, so, you know, I was being brave...

     The top 3rd of my head still needed doing (dredding), but it was getting late already, so I determined to finish it up in the AM.  Remember Buckwheat from the "Little Rascals?"   Yeah, that was more of what I looked like at the moment...


But even Buckwheat had good dreds, as I found out.  So it was feasible that I could go from what my current head looked like to, well....rocking this!




 That was my dream-these are really nice dreds!  So, with that thought, I lay down in bed.  And it felt, well....lumpy.  Nobody ever mentioned that to me in all those videso I watched-how do you sleep on these things?   Brave me, I managed for a few minutes, but that little, niggling thought was squeaking from the back of my head..."hey you like your sleep!  How are you going to do this for a long, long time?"  So I sat up and started removing a few of the bands at the bottom of the dreds, to make it a little more comfortable...and then a few more, and a few more.  Pulled at the ends, trying to untangle.  Talked with Chuck, who was ready to sleep after a long day of dred doing, the thought growing- after all that effort, how could I undo?  It just wouldn't be right!

     Long story short:  I got to bed at 2:30, after a long few hours with some conditioner, the sharp point of the metal comb, and a lot of patience, some scissors and sore fingers.  And this is what I look like now:   I think it looks kind of French, don't you agree?  Chaz did a great job on it-