An akward observation of sorts....

A little weepy and going down memory lane. Was reading a portion of an email DH sent me right before he deployed the first time. It's crazy to think of all that we have been through since this email made it's way to my computer. Not to mention everything we had gone through before he sent it. My DH is the greatest. He knows exactly what to do to bring tears to my eyes. Honestly, coming across this email did make little pools of sadness well up in the corners of my "stainless steel" level-headed outside persona. They ended up making their way down south in small streams that ended up pooling on a pillow. Well, enough of all that. :P On a happier note, I have decided I must be sending out some kind of vibe. Maybe it is a stay the hell away from me vibe, but none the less, I got mistaken for a soldier today. The guy said I "looked, and acted like one" I am not sure what the heck that is suppose to mean, but I think it has to do with my tom-boyish figure... lol.. within the first few moments of meeting me, I came waltzing in the door in my husbands cut off t-shirt, gym shorts, tennis shoes, a sports bra, and 2 hours of gym sweat still clinging to my clothing. I got introduced and a quick "wassup" exited my lips and a brisk hand shake before I was off to help my friends move their household goods that had just arrived.(AKA furniture,clothing,etc. it's what they call it when the Army ships your stuff) A bit after when everyone was relaxing and eating dinner, I got asked where I was stationed and what my MOS was. I thought he was talking about DH. He was talking about me. I was a bit taken back, and asked him if I looked military? He of course, said yes ,and that I acted like it as well. It was a very interesting encounter. Sitting on the back porch, it was pointed out to me that I sit like a guy too... I guess I really need to polish up on some of this womanly girlie crap before I have to go any where important. DH has never said anything to me really, I mean he has cracked a few jokes about how I don't wear shoes and made me promise to shave my legs at least once a week while he was deployed, LOL, but besides that, I think I have "girlied-up" quite a bit over the last few years. When DH met me, I was pretty rough and tumble, and wasn't afraid to do or try anything.I was in the high school ROTC program, sports,and anything else I could think of.I loved shooting in Pentathlon, and doing Color Guard. I didn't even own but one dress, and maybe one skirt. Come to think of it, that skirt is up in my closet still. Now, I own multiple dresses that I wear on a regular basis, and a few nice girlie outfits. I do prefer my jeans and t-shirt, but maybe a few times a month I like to play what I call "dress-up" since for me, it is dressing up to wear a sundress and do all of my make up. I do like looking "pretty" for DH though. I try, I really do to be girlie. It's just I fail miserably. I can't even walk in heels without rolling my ankle. I prefer my Harley Davidson boots, and maybe a long tie-dyed skirt and a form fitting baby T. I should have been born in a different era. I wonder if there are lessons on how to be girlie. I see a new Google search in the near future. I CAN dress up, it's just I can't break my mannerisms. I will wear a sundress and whip a chair backwards and sit on it. I look all petite in my little white sundress, and then will eat an entire steak dinner, when most woman I guess prefer the chicken? Or a salad? The waiters always stare at me. Oh well, I guess DH loves me just the way I am. Either that or he has just gotten used to it! LOL! Ever heard the term, you can dress her up but you can't take her out?? Whom ever coined that term must be a dude I went on a date with back in middle school. I prefer beer over any other type of alcoholic beverage, man-beer at that, not these foo-foo girlie drinks people pass off as beer. I rarely drink, but when I do, I prefer the taste of real-hops thank you.Poker, I LOVE beating the boys at some Hold'Em. Maybe I'm not so bad after-all.... at least DH will always have the joy of me sitting on the couch screaming at the TV , watching football and drinking a beer with him. I can't wait until he gets home and we can scream together. That's when you know your life is better than you could have ever imagined it being. When you scream "HOLDING" in unison, and you both jump up and down on the couch asking the ref if he is watching the same game you are.That's love. A union made in BBQ grillin,sports watchin,beer drinking heaven. I love my dysfunctional family.