Sailor Girl

The first day I ever stepped foot on a cutter (a boat larger than 100 ft AKA a ship) I had the great fortune of knocking over the oldest living being known to our species. He was a Chief Quartermaster and he had spent more years at sea than I spent on this earth. He smoked 2-3 packs of Marlboro Red cigarettes a day. He growled his words between wisps of smoke and called me a (not joking) whip snapping land lubber. At least that is what I think he said. I was not quite up to speed with sailor lingo and his gruffness caught me off guard. I was very curious of this creature and I constantly pestered him to tell me stories of his adventures at sea. The only time enjoyed speaking to me was to poke fun at my greenness. I was one of many people who joined the Coast Guard thinking it was a slight extension of lifeguarding only to find myself on a big white one sailing across oceans rather than riding the surf in a small boat saving babies from hurricanes. However, unlike many of those unfortunate souls, I've come to love being at sea. I take pride in calling myself a sailor. I have always been an explorer whether it be in my back yard or across an ocean and into a foreign country. I am a collector of sorts. I don't collect the things, but rather the impressions of people and places. I collect stories, and feelings; friends and our shared experiences. I wanted stories like the Chief's tales.
My second ship was more to my liking. It was slightly smaller. The smaller the ship the tighter the crew. (No were to hide actually.) My second ship mentioned here only as the The Mighty Mo'chicken seemed to be unbearable at first. The first few months on a ship usually are. There are many qualifications to complete, new people to deal with, and a ship to learn. Things got better for me when I met Jen. Jen and I's friendship got it's foothold when she tried to snag my curtains ( I tolder her she could only have one of them.) We shared three years of "hell" together. We both miss hell now. Funny how that works. Land isn't the same for us sailors. It's boring and people complain too much. Almost everyone on a ship complains too, but at least on a ship most of it is justified. Land jobs are just that; jobs.
When I was stationed on a ship, it was a way of life. Sometimes it sucked. Sometimes it was fun. All things good and bad were shared amongst a crew. A few weeks ago, Jen and I met up and took a trip back to our old duty station. We hung out a few of our old shipmates. I felt like I had come home. Isn't that ironic?? I get out of New Orleans and finally feel at home. A couple of times while we were there I got drunk and acted like an idiot. My friends gave me a lot of shit, but they forgave me. There is a mean sense of acceptance on the boat. If you did something dumb in front of people, you would surely hear about over and over again, but that didn't mean your friends didn't still love you. The meanness is all out of love..well that and the lack of anything better to do to pass the time. I have many fond memories of crazy places. Those places would not have been as much fun had I gone alone.
I miss the closeness. I miss people knowing how my day was going just by the way I said hello. It's weird. When I was sentenced to the boat I counted down the days until I was free. Now, I miss it. Hindsight is always 20/20.
Fair Winds and Following Seas,
Charissa

Super Shades for super shady girls, and the one and only Dan the Man Benoit.  

Savage Beasty Girl

Music soothes even the most savage beast. Today was a savage beast day. It seems that almost everyone I came into to contact with was trying to drive me crazy. I may sound paranoid, but if everyone was trying to piss you off you'd be paranoid too. What's a girl to do? "Crank it." The best time and place to "crank it," you guessed it, a long drive.

~~and I wonder why my 2001 Jetta has 85,000 miles on it~~

I thought I might share my top ten "current favorite" songs to "crank it" too. I say current because I listen to the same songs over and over again until I know all of the words and I can not stand them. They are then deserted and channel skipped until I miss them again. Next they are unearthed, rediscovered and loved all over again. The process repeats itself in a vicious cycle. I am a strange cookie. I hate to say it , but I told you so....

~Anyway~

Here are my "current" top ten: (Drum Roll Please)

1. Head Like a Hole by Nine Inch Nails (Classic hate the world song)
2. Eyes like yours by Shakira (Makes me feel like I'm in some exotic place on a secret mission)
3. Since You've Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson (I luv screamin this at the top of my lungs)
4. Feel Good Inc by Gorillaz (A newbie; its different)
5. Mr. Brightside by The Killers (I luv the lyrics)
6. Just A Lil Bit by 50cent (I know it's durrty, but I can't stay mad when I'm blushing)
7. Do Right Woman, Do Right Man by Aretha Franklin (Quite possibly my fav song ever, it's an issue of karma and the golden rule)
8. Fall To Pieces or Nobody's Home by Avril Lavigne (She feels me...)
9. Scars by Papa Roach (b/c scars remind us that the past was real)
10. It's a tie between Sugar by Trick Daddy and Oh by Ciara. (The same reason as listed in #6 and they both feature Ludacris)

Disclaimer: This list is subject to change pending new releases. This list is subject to change pending my mood, my whim, or the suggested speed limit. Thank Y'all for reading.

Take Care,

Charissa

Consciousness, Insanity, and being psycho..

I have a new addiction. It's called Post Secret. It's a blog located at www.postsecret.blogspot.com Post Secret is were people mail their secrets in on post cards.
The blog owner posts the post cards on the web. Some are silly, some are funny, and some are down right awful. I will warn you it is highly addictive and updates on Sundays I believe.
This makes me wonder. No matter what wrong things someone may do, they can almost always justify it in their head. Example, "I her with a stick because she pissing me off." I justified my violence for someone else's rude behavior. Does it really make my beating less wrong? I don't know. Is it okay to be mean and violent if you have a reason. What reasons are okay? What makes something wrong or bad? Psychopaths supposedly believe that they are not bad, and the things they do are justified. Most people agree that someone who does wrong is a bad person. What if you do wrong, justify it in your head, and don't consider yourself a bad person? Does that mean you're psycho? Maybe I am just psycho. I am told the first sign of sanity is to admit being insane. So if admit that I am psycho, does that make me sane and my actions justified? I'm giving myself a headache. Anyway, Check out Post Secret when you get the chance.
Take Care,
Charissa

This is Jen and I. Remember to check out Jen's blog at: http://www.ladyjen05.blogspot.com/ 

A "Kept" man

I must apologize for my last post. It was a tad on the whiny side. Okay, okay, it was all on the whiny side. I am a little down because I am officially out of the house market. I've been looking to buy a house for almost six months. The reasons are too long to list here. Even though I know it's for the better, I am still grouchy about it. I am not happy when I don't get what want. I'll admit it again; I am a spoiled southern girl.
Speaking of spoiled, I was watching this show last night called "Kept." The whole premise of the show is this wealthy English former model (Jerry Hall) is looking for a "kept" man. She's offering him a six figure stipend, a hot car and the London Jet-Set Lifestyle. He is expected to accompany her to Red Carpet events and be her arm candy and "companion" There are 12 American guys competing for the job in a reality show. I have mixed feelings about this show. It was funny seeing the guys get groomed. This big, muscley, boxer guy was tearing up so bad getting his eyebrows plucked and waxed. This is something I do on regular basis with out crying, and I am a baby. I admit I had fun mocking his pain. Then she had them put on a fashion show for her complete with boxer briefs. I enjoyed that part too.
The part of the concept I had problems with was is the line between being a "kept" man and an over paid prostitute. Would this show work if it were a man looking for a "kept" woman?
Guys, current relationships aside, would you be a kept man if the money was right? I want to know. Drop me a comment. For the ladies if you were rich, divorced and need the appropriate accessory for Lah-Tah-Dah events would you find a "kept" man? As for me I don't know. I pride myself on being Anti-judgmental, but I don't know if my pride would allow me to "pay" a man for his services. However my over-demanding self would enjoy the control factor of a boy-toy if I wasn't involved with someone. hmmm....

Not enough friends, too much ghetto, Where is the Rockstar? ~~

Check me out!! It's Saturday night in New Orleans. I had my nails done.
I put on some make-up and did my hair. I'm wearing my new chic lime green top and the cutest shoes to go with it. Stylin as usual!

(See Retail Theraphy Blog for further explanation)

I got in my sleek, European car and......I went to Taco Hell and then home.
Yeah buddy, I am such the rockstar. It's ten o'clock and I am dancing in my living room and blogging on the computer. What is wrong with this scenario??
A little over a month ago I was definitely living up to the rockstar standard. I was in Key West on vacation with a bunch close friends I had not seen in a year. I spent my nights there drinkin like a fish, smokin like a chimney and swearin like a sailor. I danced on the bar. I got so drunk I got lost on a four block straight shot back to my room. I ruined a par of shoes. I even made my friends wonder why they had missed me. Not on purpose, mind you.

She put that sugar on my tongue tongue

Yippee yippee yum yum

Goodie goodie gum drop

put me in a tongue lock

did it til my body went numb numb

laid her on her back back

turned around and gave her bottom a smack smack

I don't drink or even go out very often here. I think it's because my social circle here is a lot smaller and involves mostly family members. Not to mention it takes so much effort to coordinate anything. I had a lot of really close friends on the ship. I don't have very many here. The people I work with are nice. I don't really hang out with any of them outside of work. Weird, how that happens.

shes a woman from tha block with the best of needs

but i wont stop til im pullin out tracks tracks

It was lust at first sight

and she couldnt help sayin she wanted to get wit me

and my size was jus right

plus she wanted a man wit a little se-cur-i-ty

said i been around tha world twice

and my name rings bells from atlanta to Si-cil-y

said she wanted it all night

so put tha bubbles in tha tub and lu-da-christen me

They're are a lot of things I miss about Key West other than blue water and drinking. I really miss my friends and I miss not being sentenced to the Ghetto. I hate living in the ghetto. My apartment was broken into while I was home. These freaks came in the back door while I was layin on the damn couch watchin fckin CSI and stole my son's remote control Hummer H2. WTF?? The other day I went outside to smoke. (I don't smoke in the house, I don't like the smell.) My chairs weren't out there. No biggie, Chris must have moved them to sweep up the porch. Later Chris asks me wear the chairs are. Now just so you know, I have a nice pair of bikes, a Harley Davidson powerwheels cycle, some marine equipment on the porch, and these ghetto ass mo-fo's stole my five dollar Target chairs. Again WTF??? What is wrong with these people??

Anyway~~ I guess my discontent boils down to not having a good buddy. My sister lives here. We hung out by the pool today, but she lives 45mins away and is super busy. I would just like some one to go get coffee with me or walk around the mall with. This the first place that I have been stationed that I haven't had a best friend to hang out with. I still have my two best girl friends that I can call, but I only have pictures and a $100 Sprint bill next to me most of the time. It sucks!!

Enough of my whining...

I'll promise I'll be more cheery next post. Maybe it's time for a drive.

Ya'll Take Care,

Charissa