Answers - Part 2

I copied Uberstrickenfrau's idea to open the blog up to questions.

Nell asked, "What's your favorite trip ever?"

Wow. Can't even begin to answer this one.

Some friends and I conned our parents out of $200 each to send us to summer camp and the five of us hitchhiked our happy asses down to LA. We spent the week living on the streets of LA and had an amazing time! We went to the Zebra Club one night and I hung out with Anthony Keidis (lead singer of the Red Hot Chili Peppers). He and I talked for several hours - way in to the wee hours of the morning. He made a move on me and I told him, "Dude, I'm only 14." He stopped and said it was great talking with me and we said good-bye. Five minutes later, he was making out with some blonde chick. I didn't mind in the least and was glad to finally get some sleep!

I went to Europe for a few weeks when I was 17. Great adventures ensued.

Spent two years in Germany when I was in the Army (from age 22-24). Can that count as one big long trip? Because I had the Time. Of. My. Life! during those two years. I traveled as much as possible (and considering the ease and lack of soldierly nature of my job in the Army, that was a lot). I went all over Germany (at least the Southern parts), whitewater rafting in Austria, a trip to the Swiss Alps and the Black Forest, and made my pilgrimage to Jim Morrisson's grave in Paris to name a few highlights.

What about the trip to Tahoe when I got married? Or the roller coaster hopping honeymoon after?

The Vegas trips? The trips to the hospital to have babies? (OK, that last one wasn't so much fun as just great results after.)

Rachel asked, "What is your most favorite fruit? What fruit do you refuse to eat? And most importantly, if you could be a fruit, what fruit would you choose? Why?"

I adore fruit. I can't think of a single fruit I would refuse to eat. Or any food really. OK, sushi and liver. I don't care for raw meat and I refuse to eat another thing's filter. But fruit - bring it all! My most favorite has got to be peaches.

The 10 years I lived in Tucson were a particularly disappointing time produce-wise. The stuff you'd get was never ripe and would usually rot before it ripened. I grew up outside Fresno, CA and the San Joaquin Valley (which I may be spelling wrong) provides 1/3 of the produce for the nation. So I know the good stuff! The first time Dave went to CA was with me. It was before we were married and we went to go see my family and to San Francisco. On the drive between Clovis and SF, I made him stop at EVERY roadside produce stand we saw on the way. I was gorging on fresh cherries and peaches, plums, all of it!

But peaches. Round, fuzzy, juicy, sweet. I guess that somewhat describes myself so I'll pick to be like that fruit, too! (ugh, grammar much?) It also goes into my all-time favorite dessert - peach cobbler!

Rooie asked, "What are you most scared of?"

I used to be terrified of the dark - mostly because of Very Bad Things when I was a kid. Now I'm usually OK with it. Although, if it's really dark and I'm in it too long, I still end up freaking myself out.

Silence, too. I don't do well with silence. Too many thoughts creep in. I don't like to think too much - haha. I used to sleep with a nightlight and the radio on until Dave and I moved in together. I was 28 then.

Bees. I'm terrified of bees. I'm one of those dorks who flail and scream and make the bees mad.

I think the thing that scares me most is when I think of my man or my boys dying before me. I'm fatalistic and selfish that way. I try not to think about it because it's the stupidest thing ever. As if I have any control over that! My husband teases me about how we'd be better off with the insurance money if something happens to him. I punch him in the arm as hard as I can and say, "It'll just be spent on therapy! Therapy for the boys for having to live with what I'll be like without you and therapy for me for having to be without you!" He's a dork, too!

Well, that's all the answers I have for now.

Feeling nostalgic for travel, Ruth!

Answers - Part 1

Janet asked, "Do you do your own highlights, color your hair or trim your hair? if so, what is the worst experience and what is the best hints you would give?"

The only thing I do to my hair is to take it to a good hairdresser. In Tucson, it was cool because I just traded with one of the women in the salon at the spa I worked at. I'd give her massage and she'd give me hair color/cuts and pedicures! The woman I go to here in Parker, CO is Ahna Buck at Cream of the Crop. I found her because she cuts my friend Rachel's hair and does such a good job! So that's my hint, find someone who's hair always looks great and see where they go!

My real hair color is really dark brown (now with a few grays). I get a reddish brown color and a cut with lots of looooong layers. I do the layers because I need a cut that looks like a style without actually doing anything. I'm hairstyling impaired so I'm really very Janis Joplin with my hair. I wash and let air dry. I don't even think I own a blow dryer (unless it's in the basement with my craft stuff!).

Worst hair experience:
So there I was...
Stationed in Wurzburg, Germany. I had this really crappy, mean squad sergeant named Luciano. We just called him Lucifer. He had just tried to get me busted over something stupid (long story I'm sure I'll elaborate on in the future). The powers that be shot him down and put me in a different squad so he couldn't bug me anymore (or maybe so I couldn't bug him?). He was, to say the least, PISSED about it. Napoleonic, much?

A week later, I was on the main post getting a haircut. The woman I normally asked for was sick and so I was given to another lady. She was this little Asian woman and as she was cutting my hair, I explained to her that I have this cowlick at the hairline of my bangs. I told her so she would know and cut them straight, it's been a big problem in the past if I don't mention it.

She's FUCKING up my bangs royally. After several attempts, she finally says, "You're very picky about your hair, aren't you Ruth?" I said, "Well.... isn't everyone?" I thought, how'd she know my first name? The client slips only use last names. Then I saw the picture and everything spun into place. The picture on her station was of her and her husband. Guess who?

Lucifer.

Bollocks! I left there with Bjork bangs (shredded, crooked and china doll short). I refused to pay and I hope she didn't get paid for it. Bitch. Those two are perfect for each other.

Olga asked, "What one thing do you know to be true?"

When I was in 8th grade, I was very plain. T-shirt, jeans, long straight hair (I've kind of come full circle back on that!). When I got to high school, I hung out with the Mods and the Punk Rock kids and developed a style somewhere in between. My hair was short and wild, my clothes were baggy and strange. Here's a pic of me my senior year.

In Jr. High, there were rumors abound about what a prude I was and how uptight I was. I didn't think I was either but who knows. Then in High School when my look changed, the rumors changed. Suddenly I was a druggie and a slut. Now I know neither of those labels were true. The slut one always made me laugh since I wore such baggy clothes.

Anyway, I learned pretty early that people are going to talk about you either way. So the one thing I know for sure is true is to never give a Rat's Ass about what people say or think about you. The only people who's opinions about me mean anything to me are the people I truly care about. Strangers/acquaintances can go bugger off!

More next time, Ruth!