All I want is you, will you stay with me?

Hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea.

ASHLEY, COMMANDING OFFICER.

...has been on another great adventure. To where, you ask? Gatlinburg, TN. That's where. The Myrtle Beach of the mountains, as Ryan so affectionately calls it. It doesn't matter to me though, it's the mountains. It's somewhere different. It's somewhere I haven't been in a long time.

This adventure was shared with my biological mother. Looking back on life, I guess I haven't really spent much time with her, alone, since before I was 16 years old. Since before I was taken in by the Rabon family. It was strange how much we've both changed. I'm definitely more honest with her, more open, more matter of fact. The funny thing is that some things haven't changed, like my desire to know she's proud of me. It shouldn't matter, I know. But for some strange reason, it still does. It was the same with my biological father, before he passed, and even now really. I wonder if he would like the person I became. I spent a lot of my life feeling like I was never good enough. Even when I graduated college, I felt like they had this false image of me. I felt that they thought I was "too good for them", as was made especially evident at the time. It was like swimming against the current.

Spending time with her was imperative, if we're ever going to have any semblance of a relationship. There's a long way to go, but I actually had a pretty good time. We went to Hard Rock, Dixie Stampede, Wonderworks, shopping, a nature "viewing" and did a sky lift. During said sky lift we saw an actual honest to God, real life, wild Black Bear. We informed the directors of the ride at the top. The directors asked, "how far away was it?" We told them, to which they replied, "Good we've got about an hour before it gets up here." Haha. Good to know they're looking out for us all.

I think I got some pretty good shots in the mountains. Here you go:

Of all these images, my favorite was my shot of the moon. It was hilarious. I kept aiming my camera to the sky, trying not to shake, and kept repeating "shoot the moon." When the image would result it was all blown, I promptly shouted, "Damnit! Shoot the moon." I did this for about 45 minutes. I'm pretty proud of it though, because it's really one of the first times that I paid attention to my camera settings.

Anyway, I'm glad to be home. I'm glad to cuddle with my dog. I'm glad to be in my own bed.

TOMATO, THE HUBS.

We've been talking about buying a house! Of course, we have some differences of opinion in this subject. Usually mine are more grandiose and his are more simplistic, per usual. I think we're going to have to find a happy compromise here. It's hard to consider house buying when your husband is deployed. However, in the wise words of my dear husband, "spending combat leave at your parents house may be a liiiiiiiiiiittttttllllleeee awkward." That, I must agree with.

So we're house shopping. Yes, even when Tomato is on the other side of the planet. Hey, we do what we can.

We've got a lot to consider.

I just want him to be home, where ever home may be.

ZERO, THE DRAGON.

...is at my feet.

TEN YEARS IN THE PAST...

08:59:00- I was walking from break to second block Spanish II, a girl came running down the hall screaming "The World Trade Center is on fire!" I walk into the nearest class room, saw the North Tower on fire and rapidly walked to my classroom.

09:01:00-Sat down in my desk and saw the North Tower on fire. Someone told me a plane crashed into it. I thought it must be some random accident.

09:03:02- I watched the second plane hit the South Tower. My mouth hung open as the class took a collective gasp and then fell silent.

Before that day I didn't even know there was such a thing as a World Trade Center.

Not anymore.

Before that day, I didn't think I would be married to a man who is serving overseas due to the repercussions of that event.

Now, I am.

I was 14 years old, on one of the most tragic days in United States history.

Song of the Day:

All I Want Is You by Barry Louis Polisar