Flipside:

The word is out.

I put in my resignation letter. My last day at the facility is May 16. This also happens to be my birthday. Happy birthday to me! This also happens to be the weekend I'll be going on a white water rafting trip with some co-workers.

I have mixed feelings. Who does not like a break? A vacation? Additionally, I eagerly anticipate moving, well more accurately, being moved. I can live without the actual process of moving. I look forward to the new job I am trying to get. I look forward to having a house or at the least not having an apartment. My leaving the facility also coincides with P's last few days of school, the release of Age of Conan, the opening of Prince Caspian, and the time the new edition of D&D comes out.

I have shipped P off to grandma's all summer every summer for the last several years of his life. It will be nice to spend a little time with him this year, maybe do something nice for his birthday, before sending him. He likes to go and they plan camps and things, so I'll still send him of course.

At the same time, I will no longer have the extra funds I've grown used to having. I'll have to tighten the purse strings. I will not have some place to be or people counting on me. I do not know when I'll get my next job - though I sincerely hope it is at the college.

Flopside:

M is on his way home for his midtour. Technically, it is not the middle of his tour. We scheduled it this way so that P would have spring break at the same time. He convoyed out sometime today. 3 hours of sweaty ride. He sounded tired on the phone.

We're looking forward to his being home. We have plans to go to The Shed, Jeremy's Cafe, and Dough Boys. We'll see about what else. We'll get a new TV (yep, still no TV). We'll build my computer. We'll just hang out and enjoy each other's company.

These kind of things change a person. I've stayed in frequent contact with him while he's been there though so I think I will know the guy that comes home. Of course, what I cannot predict is how he will do in acclimating himself to being home. I just hope he is able to stay patient.

Floopside:

I had the notion to try to find all the random notebooks I've written in over the years. I decided to type each bit of useful writing and categorize it. I have fallen helplessly in love with the Circa/Rollabind system and I have a growing collection of the notebooks for various subjects. I figured that would be the best way to organize and store this information. I hoped that once I pulled it all together, I might have enough of something to work with.

I know there is more...somewhere. I'm not sure where. Pieces and bits. Scattered like stars against the black night. What I've managed to pull together only equals a whole 15 pages so far. Next to nothing. Some of it interesting enough, but most of it just not there. Now that I have it, I'm not sure how to categorize it. Now that I have it, I can see just how much of my time I have wasted over the years.

That's a whole blog (not just blog topic) of its own.

I'll continue pulling stuff together nonetheless. I guess I will just have to start writing things to put in these lovely Circa notebooks.

I've realized I have trouble writing at home. When I am away, I write a lot. When I am here, I write very little or nothing at all. My hope is that I will get this job at the university. I will have time between classes, which I will spend grading papers I'm sure but also perhaps sneaking in some writing while I am somewhere other than home and more likely to do it.

If things do not all work out as planned...I will just have to force myself to work. I have plenty of ideas now...just need to put the butt to the seat as they say.

A Found Journal Page

Q. Who is measuring life?
A. The person in the booth across from me, staring at something over my shoulder, counting me up in his mind, comparing me beside something else.

Q. Last fall you received evidence that your mathematics of life did not add up. Why have you not recalculated?
A. I am terrible at math.

Q. Please explain the differences between the life I asked you to lead and the one you lead?
A. Your footsteps were too small or too big and my compass broke in the wilderness.

Q. How do you know how long you will last?
A. How do you know how long you will last?

Q. May I change the direction of your compass?
A. No, but you may get your own compass.

Q. Can I designate more than one voice in your head?
A. I'd prefer to evict you all, put you in cardboard boxes under an overpass.

Q. May I change the...
A. Subject? Yes, you may, the weather is good.

Hospitality

A Side:

I hope everyone had a happy Easter. I didn't get a chance to make it to the Sunday service, as usual I was up to my armpits in work. I haven't had a chance to make it to any services, save two, and those were really early on in the deployment here. But I'm hoping the good Lord will look over this rough patch here with favorable eyes and give me a pass. At least that's the case I'll argue with Him later.

Easter lunch was the same as Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. Ham, turkey, sweet potatoes, instant shit potatoes and cheese sticks. Yes, they had cheese sticks. The meal was complete and Mike left happy.

Something that I forgot about though, was the fact that a week ago, the contractor who I'm supervising here had suggested that we have a feast on Sunday. He had come up to me and broached the subject with me by asking if I liked lamb. I was like... yes, yes I do. He then asked if it would be ok for him to bring in a roasted lamb and if we could all have a feast. I said I didn't see a problem with that. So we arranged to have the feast yesterday.

Fast forward a week. During that time, I got hit with some kind of stomach virus, a big part of the work was done and my steel trap mind rusted shut. In essence, I forgot about it. Well, not totally. It was lurking in the back of my mind, but seeing how he didn't bring it up again and I didn't see him for a few days, I just hadn't given it too much thought.

Which brings us to yesterday. V and I headed over to lunch a bit after noon, hoping to avoid the usual long line and still get some tastey vittles. Tastey vittles check, long line avoidance was a scratch. Didn't have to wait too long, but the temperatures are rising so it makes standing outside not so pleasant anymore. We head inside, eat the above mentioned meal and sit around for a bit to let it digest as we yak with the Aussies.

We finally leave, head back over to the barracks and I'm here for about ten minutes before I get a call from our terp who says that there are two contractor guys here to see me at the front gate. I'm like... jeesh, can't one day go by without me needing to ride to the front gate? *incase the answer isn't obvious, that would be a no*

I find a terp, we hop in the truck and proceed out to the front gate. I get out there and immediately recognize the supervisor and the old man guard. I greet them in arabic (if you can at least speak some of their language and attempt to learn, they respect you more fyi) and ask bascially, what's up? The supervisor then asks me if I remember the feast? It was then that the dam broke and the huge memory wave crashed over me. I said, yes, of course I do! In my head I said, oh shit, I just ate!

After some back and forth banter, the old man guard brings the car up, pops the trunk and unloads this huge piece of lamb. I was told it was a year old lamb and it went from the neck to the back legs. No front legs, but that was fine. It had been stuffed with rice and slow cooked. The included some yummie wheat flat bread.

Basically he gives this to me, thanks me, says that he's glad I'm doing better (last time he saw me was the day before I got sick, then he left the next day) and leaves. Which leaves me with a huge ass piece of lamb in the back of my truck and me not knowing wtf to do with it. But then I have a brilliant idea. Brilliant ideas are few and far between for me, so when they do happen, I latch onto them and run like the wind!

The contractor had left a few of his guys behind to continue work and I thought it would be a great thing to share this meal with them. I didn't know if they'd had a good meal recently, so I thought this would be a great good will gesture and just nice thing to do. Apparently I was right.

When I pulled up, they came out and we all greeted each other. After the greetings, I brought them around to the back of the truck and said, simply, hey, I brought you guys a huge lamb stuffed with rice and bread, want it? Simply put, of course they did. Only condition? I had to stay and eat with them, otherwise, it'd be an insult to them. Not wanting to set off an international incident (really, who does?), I said yes, even though my stomach was like, wtf are you doing numbnutts????

But it turned out to be a good thing. I spent the better part of two hours there while we just sat and chatted. I explained to them, through the terp, that I had just eaten, but I would eat some more with them, which of course made them smile. (I only ate a little... I was stuffed!) After eating, we sat around, had some great chai (I don't think they know how to make bad chai. They can't even if they wanted to) and they proceeded to pepper me with all sorts of questions. Mainly questions about living in the States, the military, personal life... like everyone, they're interested. I in turn responded with my own inquiries which they happily answered.

Then it came time for me to leave. They invited me back for dinner with them later that night, but I couldn't due to the fact that the Army team was leaving out at the same time. The lucky bastards tour is over. Overall I had a great time. They had dinner and lunch for today, and better relations were fostered. Hopefully they leave with a better impression and understanding than when they came. It's all I can ask for really.

B Side:

Not much on the B Side. Heather doesn't want to go back to work this morning, the boy ships back off to school... oh, I hate our new dog. I know she's a puppy and all, but she's starting to destroy valuable things. I understand the teething thing, but she better make a great impression when I get home. Otherwise Miss DeVille might have a new pair of gloves!


-M

Arm yourself because no-one else here will save you
The odds will betray you
And I will replace you

Easter Update

There are shiny white chocolate bunnies looking across the table with their dopey pastel eyes. They are surrounded by milk chocolate eggs in glistening foil.

It cannot be the same with him gone. I was surprised that M's parents didn't even call much less come down for the holiday. I managed to shake it off and go pick up some Easter goodness and have a feast cooked by someone else.

Happy Easter

There are no Easter Baskets. No Easter Candy. No colored eggs, pictures of rabbits, nor pastel Sunday best. No ham. No mashed potatoes.

No family.

I feel guilty. I failed at my responsibility. I have no imagination for these holidays without my other half here.

P does not seem overly concerned or even interested in the traditional holiday fair. He says that but will he remember this year as the one Mommy screwed up and the Easter Bunny never came? Was I supposed to pull a rabbit out of my hat? Yes, I probably should have.

If you call it "untitled", is that not a title?

I want to write an entry. I want to be witty and sparkling; however, this work week has been full of Mondays. My brain is operating in small words and choppy sentences. Misspellings. Broken images. Slow motion. I'm content to just stare.

I thought to vent about various work woes but I cannot find the words. It would take too much explaining and I'm tired.

They have refused to completely approve my leave for the 2 weeks Mike is home. I transcribe all the Medical Director's notes. I do this not because it is my responsibility but as a favor because he likes the way I do it. Then more and more duties get put on my plate and the transcription becomes impossible to keep up with along with the duties of my actual position. My supervisor has been pushing to have the transcription sent to a service so I can do my work. So I was rather unhappy when I learned that it was not my responsibilities they wanted me to come in for in the middle of the 2 weeks but the transcription.

That is just one of the things going on. I can barely wrap my head around any of the others. Just know that I want to strangle a number of people there. I would say something about going postal but I'm not serious. I'm just frustrated and venting. It is sorta sad that in the current state of things I cannot freely say I want to strangle those people without worrying that someone might think "OMG, she's going to strangle them, call the Police, have her phone tapped, send her to counseling" and freak out thinking it is a real threat.

I have been thinking about our next duty station. I put in an application for an opening for instructor of English at a college. I'm ready to do something with my degree. It feels rusty. The chair has not returned my phone call or given me any indication that he even received the thing. I'm trying to balance between interested and overeager in regards to how often I try to call the man. His lack of response has me a little worried though.

Well look who's here...

A Side:

I've told most of you that I'm a procrastinator by heart, right? Add Heather to that list and you'll find the reason why there's been an absense of posts recently. There are other reasons too... namely I've been tasked with a few more projects to supervise that have kept my attention way too much.

So lets see, anything of interest that's happened. Uhm, I had my 32nd birthday on the 10th. This is the first birthday that I've been away so it's a new experience. Not one that I really want to repeat mind you. Heather sent me a nice $30 iTunes gift card and I've spent most of it on a lot of new tunes. I finished out the "Icky Thump" The White Stripes album, finished out Meiko's debut album (more people need to hear her), Supreme Beings of Leisures fifth album (5 years later!), made a few guilty pleasure purchases and have enjoyed them all.

More of note is the fact that I woke up at 3am this morning with horrendous stomach cramps and having to use the bathroom really bad. Apparently I'm the latest to catch "the bug". Some kind of damn stomach virus that is making its way around and I'm the next victim on the list.

I feel a bit better now, but I still feel like crap. The fact that I'm even writing this as we speak talks to the guilt... err... the dedication that I have to you guys. Seriously, it's all for you.

Quit sniggering you assholes.

B Side:

Last Thursday and Friday we had back to back horrible windstorms that proceeded to blow tons of sand, and other things not secured to the ground, all around. Below is the picture that I took while trying to navigate to the worksite.

Greetings from Mars to the planet Earth! Don't run, we are your friends! =)














-M

Sometimes I feel I got to
run away
I got to
get away

My maternal grandfather was buried in the same grave yard as my paternal grandmother. Though all the stones were set in the ground, one looking like the other, I recognized the two medium sized trees slumped under the weight of the ice, trees that were bookends to my grandmother's resting place. I went to her site after the service. I pushed the ice away from the placard with my bare hands and ran a finger along her middle name - that was the one she went by. All she was now just a bronze rectangle among the trees.

We had this beautiful moment last night where we were sitting in the hush watching the snow fall on the other side of the window. He sat in my lap and talked in quiet tones. I have never heard him speak so reverently as when he said "It's awesome."

You must have this many stripes to enter the meeting

A Side:

So exactly when do I stop feeling like an A1C (E3) and start feeling like a Staff Sgt (E5) again? The senior NCOs and TSgts just had a nice hour and a half long meeting that I had to sit around and wait for in which they discussed mundane things like, PT scheduling, EPRS, agreeing we're not buying anything for the Iraqi's anymore and forcing them to use their own supply chains and other top secret information like that, that if were to be heard by the Staff Sgts directly, would cause the hole in the ozone layer to repair itself... or so my wild imagination tells me.

There's less than a handfull of Staffs and there was really no reason to keep us from sitting and discussing anything. I'm sure you're saying, but Mike, the military is big on rank exclusion and heirarchy and tradition! Well that's all and good, but with such a small team as ours, it's rather pointless to do things like that. You can discuss the mudane shit with us, then for the really super secret stuff (idk, EPRs?) say, ok need you guys to step out, we'll be out in 10.

What it boils down to is that I don't feel like I'm treated like an NCO. Coming from my last base, where I actually did NCO type work, being here is a reversion back to the Airmen grades. That doesn't sit to well with me, but there's not much I can do about it either. Why is my motivation so low to do anything? Ask yourself what you're doing to empower me to succed, then you might find your answer.

B Side:

There's more I want to talk about, mainly some of us are moving to a new compound, while others are staying here in the same building. I want to talk about this, do it in a funny way, but it's been a pretty long day and I'm wiped. I've tried a few times to write about it but it's just not coming out the way I want it to, which is leading me to be more annoyed than I want to be, so I'm simply leaving it at that. More to follow later.

Honestly, I was in a better mood earlier in the day. This is something that's common with me, just flipping from being fine to just being in a super shitty mood. Heather has seen it progress over the years and I fear it's getting worse. It's becoming apparent that whatever the triggering mechanism for this reaction is, it's becoming easier to do. One minute I'll be fine, then next I'm just... seriously pissed off.

And I don't know why. I also have a feeling that I'm going to need to seek out the professional counseling that the military is going to offer me when I get home finally. I don't want to become my dad and my family doesn't need two people like that. Plus I don't think Heather would stick around for that. While the vows do say "for better, or for worse" it doesn't mention "or becoming an exact replica of your raging beserker father."

Seriously, aren't I done yet? Is it time to come home, even just for a short while? /sigh


-M

Fall to pieces, I'm falling...
fell to pieces and I'm still
falling...

I love the way the trees look when heavy with ice and glittering in the moonlight. The branches rattle together like old bones.

He is being buried in a pair of blue jeans and a western style shirt with pearl buttons and a black cowboy hat. Two emblems from his Cadillacs will be attached to the side of his coffin. I have a feeling his service will not be ordinary in terms of song choice.

I could not look at him without thinking his chest would rise and he would wake up and smile at me and tell me antics from his youth.

My mother never showed up. I have not heard from her since the morning she tried to call me to tell me he died. Her man appeared at the viewing but had not seen her either.

I spent a fair amount of time sitting alone on an antique chair looking at the empty end and wishing my husband were sitting in it. I do not think I can take another one while he is away. I know he would have loved the architecture of the funeral parlor. It used to be the governor’s mansion.

Wondering

I am sitting at the Red Roof Inn, just inside my hometown in Ohio. I am waiting for it to be late enough, central time, to call my boss to tell her I'll be out this week. I'm eating miniature blueberry muffins and wondering why they call tiny muffins, tiny biscuits and one choice of cereal a continental breakfast. Continental sounds like such a big word for such a miniature breakfast. I'm reading my grandfather's obituary and wondering offhandedly why they did not include my husband's first name when they included the spouse of everyone else.

I also wonder why I have not yet been able to reach my mother.

I also wonder how this town could still be lacking a Barnes & Nobles and which of the clothes I brought I should wear. I wonder if I should try to see mom first, or dad. I wonder if I should follow through in making my threat to have his woman cursed by one of our local voodoo queens if she lets him have major surgery without calling me again. I wonder what my mother's boyfriend? husband? is like. I wonder if I should have Cracker Barrel or go find my beloved gingerbread men. I wonder if I should try to go see the bereft first and maybe go to breakfast with them instead. I wonder if the tiny biscuits are hard as hockey pucks or if they might be okay in the gravy.

I am very tired. Vision blurred. Cheeks ache from gnashing teeth. My legs are extraterrestrial.

Soon, I must push things into a bag and rush out the door. I will sit in the car, shifting about, lamenting the death of cruise control and watching the landscape pass on the other side of the open, sleeping mouth of a boy. Wetlands will become mountains. Mountains will become open fields of cows and corn.

I left that place many times.

These are my Heather-isms - my version of words drunk on insomnia in the middle of the night.

Running out of Relatives

I just lost another grandparent today.

My grandfather passed away sometime this morning.

I kept allowing myself to put off calling him...even after my mother wrote me an e-mail telling me his number and how bad he was doing. I thought oh crap, forgot to call. I'll call in the morning. I did this 2 days in a row...and now I've lost my chance.

I suck as a person.

/afk long drive + funeral