Our Story BONUS: His Perspective

That's right folks, in what he would likely call a moment of weakness, he agreed to do a small post in conjunction with my series for your reading pleasure.

I simply asked him to write anything he wanted relating to our relationship: a memory, a funny story or anything else he wanted to share.

Without further adieu, I present Al:

I first met Mel a little over 5 years ago when we were working in the same building, I had been working in another plant down the road and had recently transfered for a promotion to the plant that she worked at. I was working in the shipping dept. and she would come out of the office to check on special orders that needed to be handled appropriately to please the customer.

I remember a particular time that she came out one evening to check if one of these "special orders" was going to ship out. The department before me had screwed something up on the order and I had to send it back to be fixed, so I told her that I would do everything in my power to get it out on the next truck, even if I had to drive it to UPS myself. This was a friday night and she was going to drive back to her parents that evening for the weekend, so she gave me her phone number so that I could call her and tell her if it made it out in time. She made sure that I understood that she was only giving me her number for business reasons and I was pretty sure that she was involved with someone else at the time anyway, but I am not going to lie and say that my attraction to her at this point was strictly plutonic. She was with someone else and I was working a million hours a week at work and helping my father on the farm, plus I didn't think that my hick ass would ever have a chance with a beautiful city girl like that.

A few months past and we talked more and more, I think she may have even been yelled at for being out on the production floor so much. One day a guy that worked for me invited me to a party at his appartment and after carefull consideration (who am I kidding, I hadn't been to a party in over a year) I said that I would go. Turned out that the guy that Mel was dating at the time, was roomates with the guy that invited me to the party (ok, I kinda knew that but it was an added bonus to going to the party.)

Fast forward a couple more months and she had broken up with the guy from work, and I am a little rusty on who asked whom but I went over to her appartment to hang out, drink some beers, and watch TV, (Lame I know, but I had been out of the dating game for quite a while....actually come to think of it I never actually got into the adult dating game at all after a long relationship from high school ended.) This was right after I had decided to re-persue the Army after the idea fell though when I was 18. I felt like I was in a dead end rut at work(mostly cause I had advanced so quickly that the position that I was in some others had been in for 20 or more years) and my personal life wasn't really tied down so I up and joined the Army. It was the weekend before I left that I was on my way home from my brothers wedding in wisconsin, I had given her a call and asked her if she would like to meet up later for dinner (this is the time that I ordered a salad at a steak house and she will never let me forget that) it was a great dinner and we said our good byes and that was it, "it," whatever it was, was over before it even got started.

I was in Korea at Camp Casey, a little drunk I might add, and late night drunken phone calls back to the states were of little harm because our late nights over there were middle of the day for anyone in the continental United States, and they rarely woke anyone up at odd hours of the day. I decided to give her a call and see what she was up to, she had been at Navy OCS doing something that I couldn't make out cause the connection on the phone was crappy, not surprising. Which pretty much brings us up to date with her stories.

I have struggled for days (cause she asked me a few days ago to contribute to her blog) about what to write about, I picked the timeline before we were together because it amazes me even to this day that such a broken road can lead up to a wonderful life with such a wonderful woman. I often think about the way things would be if I had chosen certain different paths in life and now I can say that I wouldnt have done anything different and instead of focusing on things I could have done differently in the past, I can focus on things that I WANT to do with her by my side in the future!

Our Story #7: An R&R Anniversary

{the final and 7th part in a 7-part series on my journey of love, with Al by my side}

(Photos aren't working, but I really wanted to post this now. I will re-post when Blogger lets me get the photos up.)

Less then three months into his deployment, Al was informed he'd be taking his R&R early. Really early. I'm sure most of you know that the married guys and dads, especially those expecting, get first dibs on R&R dates and tend to choose ones as close to half-way as possible.

Which leaves the singles with the R&R dates at the beginning and end of deployment.

It actually worked out pretty well for us because we got to be together for our (official) one-year anniversary.

One of our R&R weekends, we headed out to the farm to spend time with his parents and siblings. His sister had gotten married the summer earlier and her husband and her were trying to conceive. They had some trouble and stopped trying for awhile. That weekend we all went out to see the DJ Chopper at a local bar. It was a great time!

Chopper has a 57 Chevy as his DJ booth, so people can get up on it and dance.

We ended up drinking, dancing and shutting the bar down.

A few months later we got a "thank you" call and the night was re-dubbed "the night of conception." They are expecting a boy in November.

The one in the middle is the proud mama!

Since I had school to focus on, Al got to spend ample time with his dad helping with things at the farm and enjoying his friends from back home. It was nice to let him do his own thing and me do mine and still come home to each other to share our days.

We spent some time with my sister and friends where I went to college. And we had plenty of dinners with friends and family. All-in-all, it was a great R&R.

Our last weekend before he left happened to be our Anniversary. We still wanted to do something special, so we booked a hotel and dinner downtown and got dolled up.

I remember how good dinner was, but I couldn't tell you a single thing I ordered. What I do recall is the dessert - that delicious and amazing red velvet cake!

The next day was his last in town, so we met his family for a little dinner celebration and spent the night in a hotel near the airport so myself and his parents could see him off in the morning.

I got a pass to enter security and wait at the gate with him this time. Thankfully it was virtually no hassle. So we grabbed bagels and coffee and curled up by his gate while we waited.

We laughed and hugged a bit.

Mostly, we sat in silence, with me curled up in his arm-crease, chewing on my bagel.

He sat there and ran his fingers over my arm again and again. Every once in a while he stopped to kiss my forehead.

And then it was time.

I didn't cry. At least not in front of him.

I walked away and the tears started coming. By the time I got to my car, I was bawling.

(I don't think he knows this, but I had to turn around and go back to our chairs. I'd forgotten my jacket. I was worried he'd see that I had started crying so I hung back until I knew he wasn't in line anymore before I grabbed it. Oh, I KNOW it's completely ridiculous but...)

But I didn't cry in front of him.

I'm not sure why, but that was really important to me.

I wanted him to remember a face of resilience and strength; love, trust and support.

I didn't want him to see weakness or have any reason to worry about me.

I pulled out of the parking lot and over along the fence line at the airport. I sat there watching planes take off, listening to various songs that make me cry or smile. By the time 30 minutes passed, I was calm.

Now I reflect on that day and realize just how great it really was. I woke up next to my best friend and the most amazing man I know. He quietly showered, trying hard to let me sleep some more (like I could!) I watched him pack his sack and get into uniform. He hugged his parents and said his good-byes. Even though we both knew of the upcoming separation and how hard it would be, we were just happy to have that morning together.

It was just us. Saying good-bye.

On Valentines Day.

(Sure we try not to celebrate it, and we try to avoid giving it much meaning, but I'll be damned if it doesn't sneak in anyway. Perhaps this falling on V-day is the "perfect" thing for our anti-v-day souls!)

Valentines Day is now, for us, the day we said good-bye. Again.

Our Story #6: A First Good-Bye

{part 6 in a 7-part series about my journey of love, with Al by my side.}

This part of the story actually continues with the previous one. Once we got back to Minnesota after our long road-trip we had many adventures planned. After all, this was Al's last time in Minnesota before deployment and he/we wanted to spend as much time as possible with family and friends. And of course, with each other.

There isn't really any crazy story about this trip.

We didn't go on any adventures.

No one peed outside, got caught in the rain or mud, or mistaken for a hooker.

Instead, we just spent time with family and friends as much as possible. It was divine.

My family had a going-away party for him. The cake was my mom's idea - so sweet!

His parents threw him a going-away party in his hometown.

This is a picture of Al and myself with his best friend from high school. He's in the Guard and currently deployed also. Him and his wife got married just before he left.

Al likes to ruin perfectly good pictures when he's drunk. Although, I happen to love this picture anyway because it's a pretty good description of us in a nutshell: I'm trying to take a nice, serious picture and he's goofing off.

After many days of festivities, it was time for him to go. I checked in with my professors and took the day off from classes. We just decided to sleep-in, stay in bed an enjoy each other until early evening when I brought him to the airport.

It was a nice way to end our visit and see him off.

~~~o~~~o~~~o~~~o~~~

Al and I had been together about 1 year when I drove him to the airport that Monday.

We said our good-byes in Minneapolis although he wouldn't be leaving El Paso for about a week or so. We discussed me coming down and saying good-bye with everyone else. We didn't think it made sense to go through the "separation" feelings twice. In fact, he said he wanted to have our memories of this trip and our time together be enough and me coming to El Paso would feel artificial. I agreed. (Plus it was time and money we didn't feel the need to part with.)

So Minneapolis was our good-bye spot.

But about two weeks later, he called me to say he was getting on the plane and that he loved me. I was working on homework for class and trying to stay focused.

Two hours later he called again. They'd stopped for a layover...in Minneapolis. He'd let me know if he'd be able to see me and whether I should come down to the airport.

I didn't wait for him to let me know.

Since I lived about 15 minutes from the airport, I took the chance.

I got in my car and drove down there.

You should understand something about me.

I'm not a romantic. I'm a realist.

Life isn't like the movies; you can't just drive to the airport and run slow-motion into each other's embrace; the world doesn't stop spinning while you stare into each other's eyes.

But for this moment in time, I wanted with every fiber of my being to have just that experience. I wanted time to stand-still long enough to see him one last time.

As I pulled off the high-way into the airport, my cell phone rang. They weren't going to let the guys off the plane. They were instructed to stay seated while the airline re-fueled because they would be back in the air shortly. He told me not to bother coming down there.

My heart sank.

I told him I was sitting in the parking lot at the airport. I hadn't waited because I wanted to see him so badly. I was embarrassed.

{silence}

"I'm sorry. I love you."

{silence}

"I love you too. Be safe. Bye."

He was 50 ft. away and I couldn't see him, touch him, kiss him. Luck would have him make a stop in MY city and I couldn't even get him off the plane long enough to be near him. I turned around in the passenger pick-up and left the airport.

As soon as I could, I pulled over and cried. Really cried.

I felt like an idiot for going against my nature and hopelessly following my heart. It only led to disappointment. It only led to heartache.

Once I could see through my tears enough to do so, I drove home.

I was a mess for a couple of days. Of course (as you all know) it took a while before I would hear from Al and know he'd made it there safely. So I had plenty of time to reminisce over the whole thing. Once I processed what happened, I was able to realize that I did exactly what I should have at the time and I can't control everything (especially the Army.)

Al and I talked about it later and I asked him if he thought I was silly for speeding down there like a romantic idiot when they stopped in Minneapolis.

"Hell no, I would have done it too." He responded.

At the airport, November 2009

It's really too bad the Army isn't as romantic as Al is.

{coming up in the 7th and final part - R&R}

Our Story #5: A Long Road Trip

{part 5 in a 7-part series about my journey of love, with Al by my side}

After a great spring and summer together we were greeted with news of his upcoming deployment. We had expected this, but we all know there is no news like an actual date to damper ones mood. He decided instead of paying to put all of his stuff in storage on post and pay to ensure his car while he was gone, he would drive it home to Minnesota and store it all here.

Our plan was for me to fly down to El Paso in late October and join him for the road trip so we could share the driving task and get back sooner. The whole trip, from beginning to end, was a complete disaster. (Worse then all the other "mishaps" we've encountered. In fact, this was a real "test" of our relationship and happily, we passed.)

I was supposed to fly down the afternoon before leaving and we planned on meeting friends for dinner, going to bed early and taking off at zero-dark-thirty to get on the road.

As it turned out, my flight didn't even get into El Paso until 2 AM.

You might not know, but there are NO direct flights from Minneapolis to El Paso. They don't exist. So I usually end up flying from Minneapolis to Dallas or Houston and then on to El Paso.

This time, I had two layovers - one in Chicago and then in Houston.

I got to Chicago without a hitch. It was then I was informed that our flight was delayed because there was no one to fly it. Excuse me?! Don't you plan these things in advance. It was only suppose to be about an hour and wouldn't affect our connecting flights. So I nestled in with a book and waited.

And waited...

And waited...

An hour passed and then another announcement was made - the flight would still be delayed. If we missed connectors they'd deal with that when we got to the next stop.

They started offering vouchers for flights and asking people to switch to later flights and flights the following day. I couldn't do that. I wouldn't do that.

So I waited.

(In case you're wondering if this was simply a pre-cursor training for the upcoming deployment - I also noticed the irony. Surprisingly, I handled the deployment waiting game MUCH better then the airport one.)

They moved us to a new gate. And then another. 3 hours later there was no new information and we would all DEFINITELY miss our connections. They told us it would be another TWO hours before a crew was prepared and on site. I grabbed a drink at the bar (because I just HAD to at this point) and met a nice guy there.

The guy happened to work on Ft. Bliss. He had been in the Army for 20 years, retired and was now a civilian contractor who dealt with the mechanic units on Bliss. He actually worked a lot with Al's unit. So, we bonded over beers and I had a waiting buddy.

When they told us it was going to be another hour, I decided to talk to someone. I know there is nothing they can do, and often times, they're just as frustrated as we are...but I needed to do something. I walked up to the podium and asked her if she knew anything more. I told her that I had to get to Texas tonight and that I really, really needed her help in doing so.

She, of course, told me she was doing everything she could.

She offered to re-fund my luggage fee.

(Don't even get me started on luggage fees...)

I was carry-on only.

She offered me a pack of pretzels.

Umm, aren't those free anyway? Do you have any other food vouchers?

No, she indicated.

She assured me it wouldn't be too much longer and we'd be on our way.

So much for quality customer service.

It ended up being SIX hours.

My new buddy and I boarded the plane and chatted from Chi-town to Houston and then to El Paso. I slept a little, but was so stressed and nervous about the whole delay experience. I worried that Al was frustrated. I knew our whole schedule was already WAY off.

Mostly, though, I just wanted to see him. Now.

And at 2AM, I de-boarded and found Al. I was spent. He was equally exhausted by the whole thing. He had tried to sleep with the idea that we would just get on the road right away. Of course, he wasn't able to catch very many ZzZz's. But, we headed back to post and packed up the cooler and our clothes and took off.

We knew we were tired, but we wanted to get as far as we could before we stopped.

(We hadn't planned to stop at all. In fact, we planned on switching off driving and just driving straight through to Minnesota. Our low energy and bummed attitude simply didn't make that possible. It was actually safer this way, because it's really, really draining to START a road trip as the sun is coming up.)

We made it about 5 hours before we pulled over for a rest at THIS classy motel.

Who cares?! We just really, really needed to sleep.

After napping for a few hours, we grabbed a quick bite and got going again. This time, with a better attitude and even some smiles.

The sunglasses are actually saving ya'll from seeing the bags under my eyes. Al, of course, always looks good.

Cotton gin - They're everywhere in Texas.

Another thing that's everywhere - Texas pride. Even on the underpasses.

This is where happy Texans live.

We realized after driving for a few hours that Al's car was acting up. It was steering funny and it only got worse with acceleration. Somewhere in northern Texas we switched so Al could make a sandwich and catch some shut-eye. I got less then a mile down the road and freaked out about the car.

I consider myself a good driver. I'm especially a good city driver.

But I'm not good with cars. I have no natural inclination for them. So when something is wrong, I've got nothing. I couldn't do it. Which left Al doing all the driving for the next 20+ hours. Poor guy. For those of you who don't know, Texas is a big-ass state and takes FOREVER to get through.

We celebrated Halloween in a drive-thru in Tulsa, Oklahoma (birthplace of Garth Brooks, for those interested parties.)
Happy Halloween!

At some point, we stopped at a truck stop to find a shower - but it was disgusting and I refused to use it. We did a European bird bath (use a towel and soap and wipe the important parts) instead. Then it was night, Al was just busted tired and needed a stop.

Somewhere along I-35, we pulled into yet another truck stop. (Which I am now very familiar with and no longer scared that they're all creepy, murdered stations like in the movie Joy Ride. Haven't seen it? Google it. Paul Walker. 'Nuff said.)

I think we curled up with the seats back for approximately 45 minutes of sleep. It just wasn't possible to get more then that. It was November and we were getting farther north. And sleeping in a car just sucks.

We got back on 35 north determined to make it home that day. In Missouri, about 7 miles from the Iowa border, we were pulled over. Al was speeding.

The cop asked Al to step out of his vehicle and come with him to the squad car. I didn't really know why at the time.

Turns out, the cop wanted to talk to him without me hearing.

He asked Al where we were headed since he has Texas plates and a car full of crap. Al explained he was in the Army and bringing his car home to his parents in Minnesota. We are just trying to get home, he explained. I'm not sure if the cop didn't put it together right away or what, but he kept asking Al questions about his belongings and our trip.

Finally, the cop asked Al if I was a hooker. Yep, a hooker. I don't know where that came from, what "vibe" I gave off, etc... I don't really care.

Al insisted I wasn't in fact a hooker, but instead his girlfriend.

He told the cop he didn't pay for my company and I actually had more respect for myself then being a hooker would require. The cop EVENTUALLY believed him.

(WHAT THE HELL makes you think I would be a hooker?!?)
And the cop let us go with a warning. If we ever get pulled over in Missouri again, we'll be getting a ticket.

We made it safely home and believe it or not, went straight out to meet his family at the bar to watch the Vikings game. Sleep is for when you're dead, right!?

{Coming up in part 6 - we say our first good-bye}

Our Story # 4: Tube Slides & Drive-thrus

{part 4 in a 7-part series about my journey of love, with Al by my side.}

It was time to visit Texas again and Memorial Day provided the perfect opportunity to get a few days off of work. I don't think any one trip could have been more wrong and yet so, so right.

I had decided, after getting ragged on by Al the last few times I'd traveled, to pack carry-on only this time. That meant less toiletries and less shoes. It wasn't really a big deal, but we'd have to make a Wal-mart trip when I got there.

So we did. We grabbed some basic necessities, snacks for the weekend and a couple of things Al needed. In the 20 minutes we were inside Wal-mart the weather completely shifted and it was total downpour. The thing about El Paso is that it doesn't rain very often. It's the middle of the desert and typically very dry. As a result there is no drainage system whatsoever and it only takes 10 minutes for the streets to flood.

We basically hydro-planed our way back to post.

Our place to stay fell through because they ended up having in-laws in town. This left us with a last minute decision on where I/we were going to sleep. We decided since it was a holiday weekend that I'd just sneak in the window at night and stay in the barracks. This is a lot less fun then it sounds.

You know in high school when your boyfriend snuck in after curfew through the unlocked window? (Me niether. I didn't have a boyfriend in high school. But I've seen it on Dawson's Creek.) Sneaking into the barracks was nothing like that. The windows are about chest high, a little TOO high to comfortably climb in. Plus, I had to heave my bag up into the window too.

A few bruises later, I was safely in Al's barracks room.

(Shh, don't tell anyone.)

The next day, we decided to check out a water park just over the border in New Mexico. It was a nice hot day and the crowds were a clear indicator of that. We slathered on the sunscreen and donned our flip flops and headed to get innertubes.

That in itself was an adventure. We asked where to get them and were directed to the table of teenage males handing them out. They responded with a little laziness and a lot of teenage angst - by pointing in the general direction of the customer service booth and mumbling something about a wrist band. I asked for clarification and was met with one scowl, one checking out my boobs and the third grumbling that we "need to get wrist bands at the booth."

We did and proudly returned to the table of boys to get our tubes. I snobbishly presented my wrist and asked for a tube and the kid responded by thrusting one in my direction.

Apparently, working at the water park isn't a desirable way to spend a summer.

Either that, or being a brat is the "cool" way to be a teen these days. Can't say I know.

We hit a few tube slides and then hopped in lazy river and floated our way around the park. After passing a few drunk families, screaming kids and other annoying people, we'd had enough and left.

The next day, we woke up and decided to hike the mountain again. But this time, we wanted to take one of the peaks that overlooks Mexico. It happens to be a big religious site for the area and has a series of crosses on the way up. There are other prayer sites and monuments as well as a big one at the peak. Apparently the place is jam-packed with people come holidays like Easter. It was worth checking out if only for the exercise and turned out to be a pretty interesting adventure.

We reached the peak, took a quick break and made our way back down. It was a few steps into the decline that I realized just how badly I had to pee. It was hot and I had drank an entire bottle of water on my way up. I was certain I could make it back down before needing a toilet, so I continued. Until I realized it was worse then I thought.

Al was already telling me that I should just go around a corner. I don't mind getting dirty and I'm not shy (pee-shy or the other kind) but I'd still prefer to use a toilet versus a rock. Still, it was apparent that I wasn't going to make it. So, with Al as a look-out I popped a squat on the side of a mountain overlooking Mexico.

I can't say I'm very experienced in peeing outdoors, so I struggled a bit to get a good stance and keep all the appropriate parts clean and out of the way. In my efforts to adjust, Al was laughing his head off. Which, of course, made me laugh, making the balancing act that much more difficult.

I peed on my shoe. Just a few drops, but pee nonetheless.

And Al laughed harder, I laughed harder.

Once I'd taken care of business, we kept on our dissent. I am pretty sure that Al made fun of me the entire way back down. Despite the "pee incident" it was a fun adventure and good exercise.

The old Mexican guys who ran the place gave us a beer at the bottom and chatted with Al about the Army. Turns out one of them was a veteran and was thrilled to have someone to talk to. I was just happy to sit down.

We decided to stop at DQ on the way back to post. The drive thru was set up extremely awkwardly and not at all labeled clearly. We ended up pulling up to the order box backwards. Rather then turn around like a normal person would, Al figured we could just order like that.

I placed our order and expected Al to turn us around before pulling up to the window.

Nope.

Instead, I found myself face-to-face with the drive-thru clerks trying desperately to see through the tears streaming down my face. I was in hysterics. I couldn't even breathe properly, let alone hand them the money and take our food.

While my boyfriend sat there in the drivers' seat proud of his antics, I struggled through completing the transaction, wiping tears from my eyes, sitting in my own pee.

And I couldn't have been happier.

{Next in the series: I have problems with the airline and a cop thinks I'm a hooker.}

Our Story #3: Viva Las Vegas

{part 3 in a 7-part series of stories about my journey of love, with Al by my side.}

(I wanted to name this story: "A plaid shirt is not dress up and your Coors Light hat doesn't go with everything" but I decided against it. Read on to find out why.)

After a few months of visiting back and forth between Minnesota and Texas, we decided to go "somewhere." What was the easiest? Las Vegas. It was close enough for him to drive out there, so we only had to buy a ticket for me. Plus, we'd have a car there to drive out and see the Hoover Dam.

Having the car proved to be a good thing when BFF Linus and her boy at the time joined us our last night there. (They, of course, stayed for a few days after we left but we were lucky to have our trips coincide enough to spend some time together!)

My flight got in around 3PM (if I recall) and I was really tired. You see, at this time, I was working at a law firm but I didn't have PTO or any other way to take "vacation time." So if I wanted the money, I had to make up my hours elsewhere in order to get paid for them. No big deal, if I'm taking the afternoon off for a Dr. Appt. or something.

Much more difficult when you take a long weekend to Vegas.

I had spent Monday through Wednesday working 12-hour days. My flight to Vegas was at 7:20 AM and I lived about an hour from the airport, so I was up at 5AM to ensure I was able to get there with no problem.

Therefore, I was very tired when my plane landed in early afternoon. We went up to the room and took a nap. It just seemed like the best way to start a vacation. Frankly, I don't think I would have been much fun if we hadn't napped before starting on the fun stuff.

We did have dinner plans that night, but we had to make a stop at Express first to exchange a shirt I'd bought for Al that was too small. (He says it has to do with his muscular chest and arms, I say I just goofed on the size...) I wouldn't have had to buy him a shirt and tie at all if the boy knew a darn thing about dressing up. When I asked what he brought for our dinner, he showed me a plaid shirt.

It was a fine shirt. For golfing or a BBQ. Or maybe for casual Friday at work (not that he'd know what that was either...he he.) But it wasn't a "dinner in Vegas" shirt. At all.

He had another burgundy dress shirt and matching tie so we decided he'd wear that for that night's dinner and we'd just have to figure something out for our fancier dinner the next night.

(In his defense, he owns a grey Giorgio Armani suit, which he would wear our final night in Vegas. I would find out later that the suit was a size or two too big because he'd lost a lot of weight since he first joined the Army. So, for our 3 nights in Vegas he had a too-big suit, one shirt and tie combination with dress pants, and a plaid shirt.)

Luckily, I had anticipated such a fashion debacle and purchased a shirt in advance.

He might not know this, but I was so broke at the time. I actually exchanged two items I'd bought for myself at Express that happened to still have the tags on them in order to buy the shirt and tie for him. It wasn't just about how he looked. I really wanted him to have it.

When it didn't fit, I was devastated. Let me tell you, this shirt was gorgeous! It was a great green color. I can't even describe the color; not mint or olive, but somewhere in between.

(And the tie was a black with dark grey/silver paisley pattern which looked awesome against the green.) As I silently cursed myself and vocally explained to him that he could definitely NOT wear the plaid shirt to dinner, we decided to go get one in his size since it was right on the strip and we had a couple hours before our late reservation.

So, we confirmed our reservations and headed out to take care of the shirt. I know that Vegas is a great walking city, but on my feet were a great pair of black D'orsay heels. This was bad because I had completely under-estimated how far down the strip Caesars Palace was from The Luxor. We were about half-way there when a perfect blister formed on my foot. I kept going (remember, I'm stubborn AND against looking like a damsel in distress!)

We made it to Express but couldn't find the shirt. They had ONE in the color I wanted. One. Guess what size it was? The same size I'd already purchased that didn't fit. Crap.

I started searching for the next best color choice. I wasn't going to get him something he wouldn't like (pink or an equally un-manly color) and I didn't want to get him another burgundy or blue since he already had them.

A different green? No, he didn't like it.

How about this great silver color? No, looked like a girls shirt.

Perhaps this deep blue? I only need one blue shirt, he quipped.

Rather then spend my energy explaining how this blue shirt and the one he already had were very different colors, I told him to pick out the shirt he saw that caught his eye.

I'll give you one guess what color it was.

Black?

Yep, it was black.

I rolled my eyes and we headed to the register to exchange it.

The tie still looked great with the shirt and if it meant I could get him to wear it again, it wasn't worth an argument. The black shirt it is.

After leaving the store we realized how late it was.

We were going to miss our reservation!

We hurried (which was really bad considering the already formed blister on my foot.) We got there and apologized for our lateness. It was about 12 minutes after our reservation time and we hoped they'd still seat us.

The lady at the hostess stand looked at us and laughed.

"Your reservation isn't until 7:50. It's only 7:00."

Our clocks were still on central time, one hour fast.

She was nice enough to seat us early and our efforts to hurry were not entirely in vain.

After dinner, we headed back to the room. I had planned a little surprise for him. When I found out what hotel we were staying at I called ahead and ordered a "Sensuality Treat Box" to be sent to our room along with a bottle of champagne.

Our goodies:

He was pretty excited and poured us glasses of champagne while I drew a bath.

I'll skip over the remainder of the evening and let your imaginations connect the appropriate (ah, who am I kidding - totally inappropriate) dots. In summation - it was an amazing night.

The next morning, I woke up to various noises in our room. Most of you know that there really is no "sleeping in" for Army boys. In fact, he'd been up since 5AM (it was now 9). He had showered, gone downstairs to get bagels AND he'd made coffee. I ate, had my coffee and got ready for the day.

We spent the day walking the strip (in more comfortable shoes) and looking at various attractions.

Like the lions at MGM

And the roller coaster at New York, New York

And Excaliber

My favorite was Caesars Palace.

It has everything from fancy shopping to gorgeous fountains.

Turns out, Al wanted to head back to shop. He wanted cuff links for his suit. Cuff. Links. I'm not making this up. I wasn't about to argue with that, so we picked him up a pair along the way. And we stopped at one of the fountains for a kiss.

And who could pass up these attractions:

That night, we went to see a show. Criss Angel's "BELIEVE" featuring Cirque du Soleil. Al thought it was a bust. I liked it, but not for $80 per ticket. Criss Angel wasn't overly spectacular and even the Cirque du Soleil stuff was pretty lame. If we ever go back, we'll see a full Cirque show or something like Blue Man Group.

After the show we went to a place called the Cat House for dinner. It's supposed to be a burlesque-style restaurant with scantily-clad women and other risque things like silhouette windows of women getting dressed. It seemed like a fun adventure so we gave it a whirl.

The "entertainment" was boring. There weren't any scantily-clad ladies, dancers or anything. The shadow-puppet window thingies weren't very exhilarating either.

Apparently, the really exciting stuff happens after midnight, but what did we know?

I will say one thing about the place. The food was amazing. Capital AH-mazing. I ordered lamb and it was seriously the best food I've ever put in my mouth. (I can hear Al in the background mumbling something about how the "food better be good for the price" but I don't care because the noises of satisfaction coming from my stomach were far louder then his grumblings.)

Note: the black shirt and tie - what a stud!

I was a little tired and he wanted to go play some cards. I'm not a gambler. At all.

I don't like parting with money. I'd much rather spend $40 on a pair of shoes that I KNOW I'm going to love then spend the evening betting on cards that I'm likely NOT going to win.

Mind you, he's an excellent card player. I think it's mostly because he reads people well and they can't read him at all. He's even talked about trying to play pro circuits for a bit to see how well he'd do, but the Army always quashes any chances of that.

I don't mind that he plays cards. He only plays with his "fun money" - like I budget for drinks with friends, shopping or movies. As long as that's all he does, I don't mind one bit. I like that he has hobbies and I love that he's good at it.

So, I grabbed a book (I know, I'm such an exciting Vegas-goer) and crawled into bed with some wine and he prepared to go down to the casino. After a fews pages he told me he was leaving and bent down to kiss me. I laughed. Hard.

He was still wearing the nice shirt and tie, but had put on a lime green Coors Light hat. I tried to explain that it didn't go with his nice outfit and he proceeded to tell me that a Coors Light hat went with everything. He then went on to say that he needed it to play cards. When I asked him why he wasn't going to dress more casually to match the hat, he told me that he looked really good in his outfit and wanted to keep it on.

Whatever honey. Have fun playing cards.

He did. When he crawled into bed a few hours later, he woke me up. I think he told me something about the men he was playing with complimenting him on his clothes and hat. He told me he won our money for dinner the next night and something about being frisky.

I snorted and went back to sleep.

The next morning, we decided to make our day more educational and went out to the Hoover Dam. Neither of us had ever been so we left early morning and brought sandwiches for a picnic. It was pretty neat to see the whole thing, but it was even neater to hear the story behind it. If you don't know, check this out.

We spent a few hours sunnin' our bodies at the pool (my pale-white Minnesota skin and his farmers/Army tan were both DESPERATELY in need of some UV rays) and then got ready for the evening. This was the night we'd pick up Linus and her boy (we'll call AP) at the airport and head out to a club for a night out. (See, I can be fun too!)

On our way to the airport, we HAD to stop at the Vegas sign and take couple pictures as well as a few in front of the Luxor, where we stayed.

We picked up Linus and AP and brought them to their hotel and a few hours later, we were ready to party! Earlier, we'd looked at a few places and found Lavo had a VIP special that night. It happened to be connected to the hotel they were staying in, so it worked out just great! Linus and I did some dancing and we all did some drinking.

All in all it was a great night.

We met up the next morning for breakfast buffet before I had to be off to the airport.

We had a great time, despite the dent in the pocket book. Al foot the bill for the whole thing, which wasn't cheap. He really wanted it to be a special weekend for us and it was.

It really was.

In case you were wondering, he does wear that plaid shirt once in a while, when I tell him it's appropriate to do so - but he also enjoys dressing up. He won't admit it openly, but when he's in a shirt and tie with a nice pair of slacks and I come around the corner to catch him eyeing himself in the mirror, I know he likes what he sees. I certainly do!

And here is his "proof" that a Coors Light hat DOES go with everything.

{Coming up in part 4 of the series: I visit Texas and hilarity ensues.}