We are such suckers.

Ahoy all ye landlubbers!  As every black-blooded pirate-wannabe knows, Friday was International Talk Like a Pirate Day.  To celebrate, a friend of ours threw a Pirate-slash-Let’s-Celebrate-Oktoberfest-While-We’re-At-It party and invited us to dress in either pirate attire or German digs.  Despite my German heritage, I needed to release me inner pirate.  Besides, lederhosen never seemed too comfortable.

What does a pirate do to relax?

They go on ARRR and ARRR!

We just got home from seeing “Journey to the Center of the Earth” at the drive-in. I was excited to see it because I knew the book started in Iceland, but then when the movie started I realized it was a story that included the book, so I was disappointed that the journey would have started elsewhere in the world.

But then they went to Iceland! And it was great! IcelandAir and funny names of towns and a guy whose name was almost like B’s, and all that other good stuff.

And then it went downhill. Faster than their journey to the center of the earth.

I don’t know which part was the worst and I don’t want to spoil it for you, although if you go after me telling you how horrible it was…well, I’ll just say one thing: There are no mines in Iceland. And, I don’t know a single person who wears shorts to go on a mountain climbing expedition in Iceland. And, THERE IS NO LIGHTNING IN ICELAND.

I guess that was three things.

But hey, the Siglets loved it. So I guess it was worth the $9 for the carload of us to go.

In my job, I occasionally have to communicate with Spanish people who speak little to no English.  I speak only a small amount of Spanish, and it’s even harder for me when I’m having to speak over the telephone and don’t have the benefit of hand gestures and little drawings to explain myself. 

Today I spoke with a gentleman who was one such Spanish person that spoke only limited English and needed to send me an email.  My name is hard enough for Americans to spell or say, but this poor guy had a really hard time understanding the letters over the phone, and every word, I could think of, including the Spanish letter ese, wasn’t helping him - Sierra!  Sam!  Spam! - and then I thought, “Duh! Spain!”

“Espain?  E?”

“No, S, Spain. ”

“OK.  Espain.  S.”

“Yes.  S-I-”

“I?”

“Yes, I.  Italy.”

“OK, OK, I.  S-I.”

“G, Germany.”

“OK!  Espain, Italy, Germany!”

And on it went through the Ukraine, Roma, Dana-mark, Sevilla, Sevilla, and I guess O he got without help which is good because seriously, is there even a country that starts with “O”??

Milwaukee always seemed so big when I was growing up.  Of course, limited to the smallish suburb we lived in, coupled with the fact that I didn’t get my license til I was 18 and was not in Milwaukee much after that, I never really got to know Milwaukee very well.  Now that we’ve returned, I realized in the span of about 2 hours how small it is here.

We got in at about 11:30 and dropped off our stuff at my parents’ house and then went straight to visit my mom at her work.  While we were there, my brother happened to be on the phone and found out right away that I was here, and my dad was on the phone within minutes, presumably having heard from my brother.  Our next stop was at my grandparents’ house where I ran into my cousin who was delivering mail on their street, and then as soon as we got home I got a call from my other brother who wanted to know why he found out from my sister-in-law who found out from her coworker that we were here - and we’d just finally gotten home about 5 minutes before I got that call.

I thought we lived in a small town on the base in Spain but I have never seen word travel so fast than I do here! 

…but nooooo.

After last weekend’s sunburn that left me in a strapless bra for a week because I couldn’t allow anything to touch my shoulders, I swore no more sunburn!

Saturday was a birthday party at the pool, so I diligently applied sunblock to my chest, shoulders, arms and face.  I was out there with the kids for a good 3 hours, and came home happily sunburn-free.

Sunday we went back to the pool, and again I put on sunblock - SPF 30 on my face, 45 on my chest, shoulders, and arms.   And I came home 4 hours later with the reddest red legs you’ve seen since that lobster that was brought out on a plate as your dinner.  And I’ve got a painfully red chest again, and re-burned shoulders right where they just got done peeling.  And a face that is blotched with burns on some, but not all, parts.  I am a sight to behold.

If I try to stand still, my legs feel like blood will start spurting from every pore.  It feels like I’ve just done an army crawl through a sandbox filled with itty bitty shards of glass.  I can cope a little bit if I’m constantly moving, so now I look like I’m a 5 year old who perpetually needs to pee.   Right now.

I promise, I have learned my lesson.  SPF 45 from head to toe from now on, reapplied every 2 hours.  Maybe I was on the right track all along by avoiding the sun altogether for the last 15 years or so and everyone can just deal with the glare the one time in the year I wear shorts.

Isak occasionally asks me to give him a mohawk fauxhawk, but his hair has gotten a little bit long again and is getting difficult to do much with.  So I put in some mousse and inflated his hair.  He was turned around the whole time while I dried it and when he turned around and looked, he let out a huge laugh and said, “I look like Jimmy Neutron!”  I think he looks more like Syndrome/Wonderboy from the Incredibles…