now tell me who's your housekeeper

Very quickly, because time is at a premium these days (sorry about that...):

- officially transferred into the NJ Guard and put the MA good ol' boys club in my rearview mirror

- whoops! then found an E6 slot in the Reserves - bye NJ, and thanks for the (two weeks of) memories! (signing the paperwork tomorrow; the transfer should go through in a matter of weeks)

- probably going to have to have two of my wisdom teeth pulled - will find out at the consult tomorrow

- homeowner of the weird half-brick front house countered our offer, so now we counter-counter, and hopefully I'll know for sure - YES or NO - by the end of the week...?!

- going to Maryland at the beginning of October for a wedding and to celebrate our 3rd anniversary

- oh and Tree comes back from training on Friday!! :)

Tomorrow I'll try to get back on here to tell you about my weekend. An unexpected sunburn!

Are you custom-made, custom-paid, or you just custom-fitted?

- Ludacris "Roll Out (My Business)" -

and now I think I'm sick and I wanna go home

Sorry all - I'm just drained. Between the stress of knowing we have less than 2 months left in this house to trying to find another one we love as much as this one, plus the normal horrors at work, and impending unemployment in 10.5 months...

Oh and did I tell you Tree is getting deployed, like for real this time? Yeah, right before I come off my active duty orders. I'm going to save the remainder of leave I have from last year plus all the leave I have coming this year so I can take a whole bunch of time off right before he leaves. I was in denial for awhile and haven't really talked about it, but it's coming...

I'll try to write something more tomorrow. I took some pictures of the house we're putting an offer in for, so maybe I'll post those for you to check out. But all in all feeling pretty glum.

"did you lose it in a hateful fight?"

- Green Day "Emenius Sleepus" -

did it take long to find me?

So yesterday was a good day, a real nice end to these 12 days of leave - blueberry day! And some other cool things...

We slept in a little, then ate leftover pizza for a late breakfast/early lunch. After showers we headed out, first to Old Navy. For my military readers, Old Navy offers a military discount (with your ID, obviously) on the 1st of every month. Usually it's 10%, but in checking my receipt on the way out, I realized it was 30% yesterday. Kick ass.

After Old Navy we went next door to Bed, Bath and Beyond to try to find a glass carafe for Tree's lemonade (we've been keeping it in the fridge in a large flower vase that I bought at a yard sale for 50 cents... embarrassing...), but no luck.

Then on to the blueberry farm! I found DiMeo Farms online, in Hammonton, N.J., the Blueberry Capital of the World, and it seemed pretty cool, so there we went. What sweet people, I can't even tell you. Tree and I picked out 7 blueberry plants and I got a really neat rustic wooden hand-tray for carrying vegetables from the garden (so quaint it breaks my heart).


Before we left, the lovely blueberry lady gave us 8 poblano peppers to thank us for our business. Tree turned them into a superdelicious salsa when we got home (onions were store bought, tomatoes and additional peppers from our garden).

(a bit too much flash in that picture)

Got home and managed to get 4 of the plants in the ground before it got dark/we were tired. We still have to clear some more random wild crap away from the fence before we can get the other 3 plants in... tomorrow, hopefully. I also made a stick pile for Tree's eventual fire pit.

Then we made my favorite vegetarian sweet potato/bean burritos (don't hate until you've tried them) and I opened my birthday present early. My birthday is actually on Saturday, but Tree is going away for two weeks of training the very next day, and we wanted to enjoy my new toy a little before he leaves - an old fashioned ice cream maker!! I can't wait to get started. I'm going to at least try to make one batch before he goes back to MA.

And that was pretty much it. All in all a great day!

And now... I'm feeling very nervous about going back to work. It's really sad - the CPT makes me hate the Army a little bit. Words cannot describe what a terrible boss she is - she actually damages my self esteem. I dread going to work mostly because I healed so much over leave, and I don't want to go back to feeling like shit every day.

So I'm going to brainstorm a bit this week about my options, and I'm going to hang on to my Zen for as long as possible.

(crosses fingers)

"and if I ever lose my eyes,
if my colors all run dry
yes, if I ever lose my eyes
I won't have to cry no more."

- Cat Stevens "Moon Shadow" -

I'm a high life flyer and a rainbow rider

It has been raining for the last 3 million years. So far this is the worst summer I have ever had.

I got talked into going to a concert tomorrow morning in Manhattan (at the Intrepid) so look for me - it will be played on the CBS Early Show. I'm sure the cameras will pan the audience a few times. What concert, you ask? Earth, Wind and Fire will be performing, also Chicago (the band, not the musical, unfortunately). I can't name a single song by either. Also we are leaving from Dix at an ungodly early hour to make it to NY in time.

Yeah, those two groups on the USS Intrepid on the CBS Early Show with military members in the audience randomly in the middle of June doesn't make any sense to me, either.

Which just reminded me! Tomorrow is Juneteenth. A special thanks to Old Navy (my friend from Iraq, not the company with the creepy talking mannequins) for educating me on such an important historical event. White girls from the northeast don't find this stuff in their history books. Also the "John Waters" mustache. I'd never heard of that, either.

Wow, this post is literally about nothing. I'm going to go eat something (ran out of hot dogs, though...).

"and he always had some mighty fine wine"

- Three Dog Night "Joy to the World" -

she took the midnight train goin anywhere

So... a FRAGO?

1. Not going to combatives - too many events we have been ordered to take photos at invited to, so we will have to put this off. What I really suspect is that we're going to have to attend the class one at a time while the other covers down on the office. The CPT thinks it will work out so we go together. We'll see.

2. What was 2? Oh yeah, my footlocker. No changes here.

3. Vegetable garden will hopefully be planted this weekend (or at least we'll have the area dug out). At the advice of a trusted Gardeness, we're planting a few tomato plants, some zucchini (I just had to look up the spelling = embarrassing) and summer squash, some peppers, and perhaps a pumpkin vine or three. I'm also going to buy a gnome for luck and to watch over the garden. Cause gnomes are the shit.

4. Nap. Yes.

***Some additional changes... (or perhaps just the continuation that I never got around to)

5. My home unit/state SUCKS DICK and individuals I thought were looking out for me (namely, V) are decidedly not. Also there has to be some unspoken agreement that Soldiers serving on Title 10 orders outside the state don't fucking matter and should be passed over for promotions/etc. Today I was basically told to "calm down" about wanting to get promoted (I'm already over a year behind my peers) . "You'll get there eventually. Look at me, I've been sitting at [this rank] for forever." The person who told me this is also supposedly taking the only slot for me to get promoted. Yet he's not MOSQ, and won't be until the fall, and thus won't be eligible for promotion until next spring when the new list comes out. So essentially, that vacant slot, which I am currently eligible for, is going to sit vacant for a year until this other individual is eligible. Wow, sounds a lot like what happened to me last time.*

I'm not even going to fuck around with an IG complaint this time. While yes, it would be valid, and I'd probably win and get the slot, once you file a complaint, you are silently labled a problem Soldier. Speak out against the man or the system and you're a shitbag, you're fucked. I know because I already lived it, 3 years ago. Besides, I need to confirm that this individual really is getting that slot. I'm going to call my commander back home early next week and see what he says.

So in the meantime, I called the NJ ARNG today and spoke to a recruiter. There are two available E6 slots in NJ for my MOS. She said the fact that I'm on Title 10 orders is not a problem (in other words, they won't try to recall me early) and that I'll just have to turn my TA 50 back in to my state. No problem. She said all the interstate transfer stuff will be handled on her end and that I don't even need to contact my state if I choose not to. I'm going to meet with her in person next week because I want to see everything in writing (I'm not stupid).*

6. Maybe buying the house, but the above situation is already affecting a decision I thought was a done deal. If we commit to the purchase, I only have guaranteed income until July 2010 (leaving the MA ARNG means losing my military technician job at the MA JFHQ). But I've been wanting more and more recently to go back to school (for real this time), so maybe I'll just collect benefits, go to class, and not worry about a job? This will require more research. It will also be dependent on what state I end up in as NG education benefits are different in each state.

7. Or I could just say Fuck It All and switch to the Army Reserve. I kind of think this is the best course of action... there are many more available full-time positions for Reserves that aren't for NG Soldiers. I could easily get a position at the schoolhouse on Fort Meade, at the NCOA here on Dix (they asked me to stay), and I know for a fact there are drill sergeant units in the Reserves that spend their ATs at basic training posts. Look, there are 3 things I'd like to do in the future, all available for me if I switch components. In fact, now that I just typed that, I think I'll call a Reserve recruiter on Monday.*

Why does everything have to be so hard?

*Please, if you are one of those people who knows what/who I'm talking about, don't spread this around. I don't want to jeopardize my move to NJ/the Reserves. Thanks for your understanding.

"oh, the movie never ends

it goes on and on and on and on"

- Journey "Don't Stop Believin" -

I've been drinking bourbon, whiskey, scotch and gin

Well, BNCOC is over and done with (Phase 1, anyway). I had the second highest average in my class of 84. The NCOA separately recognized those who "Exceeded Course Standards" - the top 20% - which was nice. I was surprised how many members of the brigade came to see the graduation (out of the 84 in my class, probably a quarter of them were from my brigade). The CPT came and took photos, that was pretty cool. And afterward she and the LTC from my office took me out to lunch. I was surprised and touched that he even came to the graduation - he never, never goes to brigade functions. So it was nice.

So what are my upcoming plans?

1. Combatives Phase 1 next week. Since we don't have a unit for like 6 weeks, the CPT signed us up. It gets us out of HQ for awhile, and soon Phase 1 is going to be required of everyone, so why not?

2. Finishing my footlocker. A few years ago, I saved an old WWII footlocker that was destined for the trash. It had belonged to my grandfather's second wife's first husband (haha, we're not from West Virginia, I swear) who had been in the Army. It got passed around and eventually my dad ended up with it. And then the trash was going to end up with it. So I saved it (because I have an extreme, unnatural fondness for boxes/chests/trunks) and started repainting it, like, 2 years ago. Recently I've been feeling craft-y again, so yesterday I dug it out and started working on it again.

I'm not restoring it per se (a professional would probably say I'm ruining it, actually) but rather repainting and revitalizing. For example, instead of sanding the rust off and polishing the original metal fixings, I'm just painting over them with metal-colored paint. I plan to adorn it with old stamps/postcards/travel stickers (lots of antique places down here), attach some short legs to the bottom, and repurpose it as a coffee table. It'll be kind of quirky, but then so is my entire house. :)

I'll have to post photos when I'm done, but this foot locker is close to what it looks like now. The metal is on mine is slightly different at the corners, and mine has no writing on it (or maybe it wore off at some point). Also mine is in significantly worse condition.

3. Vegetable garden. This is more of Tree's project than mine, but this weekend we're going to tear up the existing horror show "garden" and replace it with some tomatoes and maybe a few other things. I have, like, the exact opposite of a green thumb, so I'm going to let him take the lead on this one. Although I would like to have some flowers out there, too. He can pick them out. I'll just help dig holes, or whatever. Also I want some pumpkins.

4. Nap. Sounds like a great idea! I'll finish this later. Maybe.

"one drink ain't enough, Jack

you better make it three"

- George Thorogood & The Destroyers "One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer" -

there are things that drift away, like our endless, numbered days

BNCOC, Day 2

Up at 0530 (I stayed at the NCOA last night, since Tree is still at drill), feeling stiff and foggy.

FREEZING FUCKING SHOWER.

Got dressed, stood in formation, ate chow.

"Do Not Sexually Harrass Your Buddy" (the opposite of "Make Your Buddy Smile" ?)

"Why the FRG is awesome"

There was one other class on referring help to Soldiers who are considering/threatening suicide... then I got home and realized what day it is...

I think of you all the time, Mr. Yamaha. It's been two years today, but the pain and shock is still fresh. I hate you for what you did, and I hate you for never giving me the chance to repair the rift that formed between us (I'll admit, I was a huge bitch that night in your driveway), because maybe I could have been there for you. You could have called me. You're such an asshole, but I love you, and I miss you, and it's aways going to haunt me the way everything happened. If you're up there, out there, somewhere and can hear me, I'm sorry. Rest in peace, my friend.

Oh, and I'm probably not going to create a post for every day of BNCOC. Every day is pretty much going to be exactly the same, and since I'm fairly certain I'm the only one reading these posts...

Catch you all in two weeks. Unless something wicked crazy/weird/exciting happens. Doubt it.

"there are things we can't recall,

blind as night that finds us all"

- Iron and Wine "Passing Afternoon" -

she should have had more time to spend

BNCOC, Day 1

Woke up at 0330 to quickly shower and get into PTs. Tree was flying out to MA this morning for drill, so I slept at home last night, which is technically not allowed, but whatever. Gave him a smooch goodbye and drove back to the NCO Academy to formally in process.

Height/weight, filled out some forms, gave a copy of my orders to, like, everyone.

Yelled 'hooah' a bunch of times to prove how motivated we are (this seems questionable).

Finished with two hours before the first class, so drove back home to say goodbye again. More smooches.

Tree left. I took a nap.

Back in the car, back to the NCOA.

More in-briefs ("You will only smoke in the designated smoking area, sergeants." "Don't let me catch you on your cell phone in the hallways, sergeants." "You will eat chow at every meal, sergeants. Can I get a hooah?" And so on.).

Lunch. Nothing there for a poor veggie like me except the standard shitty Army salad bar. Yay. (I am going to waste away to nothing by the end of this class)

Back to the classroom. Sang The Army Song (why??? why must I do this at every freaking school???)

"What Makes an Army Leader." Or something.

"How to Stop Your Soldiers From Raping People and What to Say to Soldiers Who Have Been Raped." (aka, "The Same Crappy Video You've Seen a Hundred Times Already to the Point Where You Know Who Rapes Who Before The Scenarios Even Start: Squad Leader/SPC, Male Soldier/Female Soldier, Female CPT/Male 1LT, Husband/Wife, Soldier/15 Year Old Hussy, Male Soldier/Male Soldier.")

Dinner. Same salad as lunch.

Drove home, called Tree, ate leftover pizza, watched the episode of The Office that I missed last night.

Typed this post.

Blech. Day 1 and I'm already sick of it.

"she should have made her mother proud

she should have stood out in the crowd"

- Nirvana "Been a Son" -

run around the same old town

So I started BNCOC today - actually, it was just the report day; classes formally begin tomorrow. I'm really... nervous? I don't know. I've known I'd be going to this class for probably two months now (that's about when I requested a slot), but then that was it, there it went to the back of my mind, and here I went, on with my business.

Then this morning, when I reported to the NCO Academy to sign in, the cadre was walking around addressing us collectively as "sergeants," as in, "Sergeants, once you get your linen, bring it up to your rooms and then come back, hooah?" And it was like, Ohhhh shit, it's textbook Army time.

Because HHB isn't textbook Army, it's not even close. By textbook, I mean, addressing people by rank and last name, standing at parade rest every once in awhile, marching if you're in groups larger than 3. You know, the kind of things that are technically correct but get dropped off after you've been together for awhile. At least, that has been my experience. The 65th (my home unit) is about as un-military as you can get without being a straight-up civilian. Think Bill Murray in Stripes.

Oh, and I had to dust off my husband's my beret for the class. I'm in the real Army again!

I'll keep you posted over my next two weeks of - fun?

"I've been first and last

look at how the time goes past

but I'm all alone at last

rolling home to you"

- Neil Young "Old Man" -

and suddenly you're in love with everything

Weird. Fucking. Day.

Remember back when I said I was going to start volunteering at the animal shelter near my house? Remember when I still haven't done it yet?

Today a lightning bolt came out of the sky/the ceiling in my office and hit me - and then there I was, typing in the website for the shelter and saving their phone number in my cell phone.

Then, like, 15 minutes later, I was overcome by the urge to sneak a cigarette. For those who do not know me, I've been battling a nicotine addiction for approximately a million years. Lately I've been winning (unless we have a unit in training or I'm in Iraq - what is it about the Army that makes me want to smoke more?). So today, not training and not in Iraq, it was odd but overpowering, my need for a Marlboro. I walked down to S6 and hit up one of the civilians, who was happy to get away from his desk for a bit.

We walked out back and sat on the picnic table and talked about his impending divorce (that sucks) and why no one wants to live in New Jersey (true story). He smoked a second one (I didn't) and then we headed back toward the building.

"Hey, Sgt. Malibu, want to see some kittens?" I turned to see a MSG who works downstairs standing off in the grass near our parking lot. [It reads that way, but she really didn't sound so much like a pedo trying to lure me into a van as it looks here, I promise.]

"Um, ok?" I said, confused, and walked toward her. "Where are they?"

She pointed to the storm drain, hidden in the grass next to her. I peeked in, and at the bottom, about 4 feet down, three teeny kittens huddled together in the wet leaves. My heart melted.

"I called DPW [Department of Public Works] and they referred me to Pest Control - the guy is on his way here with something to scoop them out of there." She looked worried. "I don't know where the mother is, I think she may have been that cat that got hit earlier... and it's supposed to rain tonight and for the next few days. They'll drown down there, you know?" She knelt down and peered in. "But I don't know... I asked the Pest Control guy what he was going to do with them and he didn't really answer me."

Um. "What do you mean, he didn't answer you?"

"I don't know. But he's the Pest Control guy."

Lightbulb! "I can take them to a shelter that's near here. I was literally just looking up their phone number. Seriously."

She stood up, looking relieved. "Ok, want to go get a box then? I think we have some inside?"

We walked back in, got a box, sat back in the grass and waited for the Pest Control guy. He arrived a few minutes later with fucking Havahart traps (their spelling, not mine) and a long hook/pincher thing. It took a few tries, but by gingerly picking up the kittens with the pincher thing and lifting them up to the grate, he was able to place them in my hands so I could ease them through the grate.

They turned out to be smaller than I'd thought - little feet smaller than my smallest fingernail, and their eyes weren't even open. From torso to the base of their tail, they were about 4, maybe 5 inches. They mewed softly and found each other in the box and resumed huddling. Are they cold? I wondered. It's like 90 degrees out here!

"They can't be more than a few days old," said the Pest Control guy, perhaps rethinking his previous plan of murdering "disposing of" the kittens. "You'll need to get them to the shelter right away so someone can start feeding them."

I nodded and said goodbye to the MSG (and asked her to let the others in my office know where I was going) and got into my car. I plugged the shelter's address into my Garmin and drove off post, glancing into the box every couple seconds. The orphaned kittens - two gray and one orange - remained wedged into the corner of the box, their faces pressed into each other's fur. 

It occurred to me I should give the shelter a heads up that I was coming with three newborns, and it proved to be a good idea: they can't take wild animals unless they come from Animal Control (which Fort Dix does not have, evidently). The shelter gave me the number to the Animal Control for the closest country and I tried it: no answer, mailbox is full. Shit.

Called the shelter again to see what I should do now. She said the only other thing I could do was call the non-emergency number of the local police. Um, the DoD police on Fort Dix? Yeah, probably not. But I didn't know any other police stations to contact. I drove back onto Dix and parked in front of the DoD police station, carried the box in with me so the kittens wouldn't roast in my car.

The woman in the lobby (behind the bulletproof glass, that is) was surprised and very helpful, as were the police officers who came out to the main part of the lobby to peer into the box and coo at the kittens. They were able to get in touch with another county's Animal Control, who agreed to meet there at the DoD police station to pick up the kittens for transport to a shelter (probably the shelter I'd previously talked to, but oh well, I'm no stranger to slightly-ridiculous SOPs). I waited until they arrived so I could ensure the kittens wouldn't be destroyed (Animal Control promised me they wouldn't be unless they were rabid/whatever).

Drove back to work.

I know this picture is blurry, but I took it with my phone while I was driving to the DoD police station (pretty sure that's illegal or something). Anyway, here they are:

Also, and completely unrelated, I am pretty sure I broke one of my toes, possibly two. I walked around in pain all day.

"but now I'm dry of thoughts, wait for the rain

then it's replaced, sun setting..."

- Badly Drawn Boy "The Shining" -

dance a little stranger

A beautiful fucking day that reminds me why the universe is so perfect right.

At lunch we had a farewell luncheon for our outgoing battery commander... going to really miss the guy. Not only is he a great commander, he's personable, approachable, funny, engaging, and most importantly, he sincerely cares about the Soldiers of HHB. I've been lucky enough to work with him on a number of projects since I've been here (and run next to him with the guidon on a number of battery runs) and can say he's one of the best officers I've served with. I hate to see him go.

Left the teary luncheon (we're all going to miss him, and you can see it on his face he's going to miss us, too) and fucked off for the rest of the day with the LT CPT (did I tell you she got promoted?). We drove over to the Air Force side and went to the thrift store to see if there was anything cool for sale. There wasn't. Then we headed to the BX/PX and I bought a $17 candle.

Got back to the office, answered some emails, then wished each other a good weekend and peaced out.

And now the sun is slanting golden sideways through the open windows. A breeze off the lake is stirring the curtains and bringing in the gentle smell of forsythia. Two (wild) ducks are floating slowly by on the grey/blue surface of the water. I feel like my heart could explode from the overwhelming beauty of my life.

"put your arms around me, baby"

- Sugar Ray "Fly" -

can't wait for tomorrow; I might not have that long

The DVIDS training for the MPAD today was a success!! Ever since That Time, I'm fucking terrified for the first half hour of meeting a new unit - Will they be receptive to the training? Will they have a positive attitude? Will they actually learn anything? What if they immediately hate me?

I talked to Tea about that early this morning while we were waiting for them to arrive, and she assured me that That Time was just a freak occurrence and I needn't worry. And it turned out she was right. I showed them an overview video in the morning, followed by a little PowerPoint (not too much - I know it can be fatal in large doses), then some example videos of what not to do. They took a short lunch, then we took the dish outside and they took turns setting it up and breaking it down. As the big finale, we hooked up their camera to the system and called DVIDS to practice coming up on the satellite. All in all a success.

An update to yesterday: my guts are literally screaming to get out, and now I'm afraid to fart. Try not to think about that one too hard.

Oh!! I didn't tell you. So at the advice of Tree's father, we are going to have Easter down here in NJ so Tree and I don't have to split our holiday three ways like we always do. So far my parents, Tree's father and brother have confirmed, my sister and her BF are a 'probably' also confirmed, and Tree's mother and BF are a 'maybe'. I look forward to having our house full of people, my favorite people. :)

Tree and I are still working out what the menu will be, but I'll let you know. I've already resigned myself to the fact that we'll have to serve a meat dish, but I'm not pleased about it.

Well, that's enough rambling for today. Hope you haven't tuned out already. I'll try to be more interesting tomorrow.

"I'll tear my heart out

before I get out"

- Smashing Pumpkins "Today" -

I wake up every evening, with a big smile on my face

Tomorrow I am giving a quick DVIDS spin up for a National Guard MPAD about to go to... NTC? That's right, not Iraq, but Fort Irwin, Calif. My supposed friend in the [redacted], whom I met at the DVIDS Instructor Course, is evidently spreading the vicious rumor that I can give the course myself, and at almost no cost to the Army! (The actual course at Crawford Communications is pricey.) Just wait til he returns from theatre - he and I are going to have words...!

So I'll be at the freakin installation PAO office tomorrow while the rest of the world snoozes. Well, Tea will be there. I'm so glad she'll be the one there with me. She's my favorite person over there, endlessly patient with us Soldiers who invade her office a couple times a month, and generous beyond believable. 

In other, disgusting news: I have a relentless stomach virus (or something) that is going to leave me a dry withered skeleton if it keeps up much longer. 

Oh and my house is haunted. Whenever I'm alone, and usually in the late afternoon before it's dark, I can distinctly hear someone (something?) walking up / down the stairs that lead to the loft. And almost every time I take a shower in the bathroom off the bedroom (again, only when I'm alone and usually late afternoon), I can hear muffled talking and laughter coming from the other side of the house.

Tonight I was sitting on the loveseat, which divides the great room in half, so it doesn't sit against a wall. Sitting there, watching tv, and I felt a pressure on the top of the headrest, as if someone had leaned from the back of the couch to look over my shoulder. The cats like to sit on the top of the headrests, so I turned, expecting to see one of them up there. No cat. Was someone leaning? Watching me surf blogs online? I don't mind sharing the house as long as the, ah, visitor, as long at he/she/it is friendly. :/

Oh and - who thinks I should take a scuba diving course / certification in May when it's offered here at the installation pool? Does the fact that I can't swim affect your decision?

And I just finished watching an old episode of CSI ("Gum Drops") and it totally made me cry. :/

Hope you enjoyed those random and disjointed little paragraphs. Time to get ready for tomorrow.

"and you're probably still working a 9-to-5 pace

I wonder how bad that tastes"

- All American Rejects "Gives You Hell" -

the subliminal mindfuck America

Validating what I'd long suspected... (not that I'm "very progressive," which frankly sounds a little arrogant, but that I fall on the liberal end of democrats... I'm actually off the charts! See below)

Here's to bucking the national average! Take the Progressive Quiz yourself here (don't forget to tell me how you scored).

Also, a thought that admittedly isn't original - isn't it sad we won't have such terrific anti-Bush music anymore? I kind of enjoyed screaming "well maybe I'm the faggot America!" out my car window. I know I'm an anomaly in the military - we're typically so Republican that we bleed Toby Keith. We'll put a boot in your ass, 'cause it's the American way, y'all. Guns and blood and fucking shit up and stuff. Sheep blindly following the "shepherd."

A little piece of my own hell: the LT has Ann Coulter books stacked on her desk and everyone cheers during anti-Dem pieces on FOX News - which, by the way, is always on. The LT tries to tell me all the time how Obama is fucking up so bad, how he hasn't managed to repair the economy yet (which took years to destroy, but should somehow turn around in the, what, 52 days he's been president?), how he has grand ideas but no actions (see previous). I'm all for debate; I do despise, however, blatant ignorance.

"now everybody do the propaganda

and sing along in the age of paranoia"

- Green Day "American Idiot" -

my war paint is sharpie ink and I'll show you how much my shit stinks

I've been meaning to post about this, but the end of last week was hectic - Tree and I went back to Mass because this was a drill weekend - and I just didn't have the time. Anyway. Read on for the hilarity awkwardness that was last Thursday:

So recently I decided to mobilize for another year with First Army (I know, who ever saw that coming??) and thus have to get the shit squared away that I'd been lazy about since I got to Dix, namely: MedPros. This is just the system that tracks your medical readiness in a number of categories: immunizations, dental, vision, hearing, periodic heath assessment or PHA (basically a routine physical), etc. Last month I was 'amber,' or in need of an update, in 5 categories.

I took care of the immunization update first: all I needed was a flu shot, ahem, flu mist. Kind of a gross sensation but not a big deal. Then I walked over to the dental clinic, they looked at my teeth, everything seemed fine. So two categories green. Next I went over to the Air Force side of Dix (also known as McGuire AFB) and had a PHA done, they made sure I had all my toes and whatever, that was fine too. Two weeks ago I went back to McGuire and had a vision exam (getting new glasses, but a weaker prescription - odd). All green except... the dreaded 'women's health' category. I HATE gynecologists.

I don't care if this makes me a bad person, but the last time I had a pap smear (about a month before I deployed), I told the gyno I'd been assaulted when I was younger so she'd hurry the hell up. Even though in reality I have never had any sort of trauma like that, I get over-emotional every time and end up crying and/or puking. Fun, right?

[Note: I don't mean to downplay sexual assault by any means, I just really, really fucking hate the exam process and would rather sell one of my arms than have one.]

So I'd called over to McGuire to see about making an appointment (unavoidable if I want to extend my mobilization) and they were booked until, like, 2011. And since I waited so long to start updating my MedPros, I now don't have that kind of time. I had no choice but to make an appointment with a civilian doctor around Dix and eat the cost. Whatever. Except my options were a Planned Parenthood about 30 min away, or some other random clinic nearly two hours away. Not really much of a choice, so Planned Parenthood it is.

Thursday, on my way there (I left during lunchtime and had to be back after the exam to finish up work), all I can think about is the movie Juno. You must have seen it, right? She's pregnant and decides to go have an abortion, except when she gets to the clinic, there's a classmate there protesting and holding a sign with a baby on it, and she tells Juno her baby has fingernails. Juno freaks out and ends up changing her mind.

Anywayyyy, I'm not pregnant and I wasn't going there to see an abortionist (is that a word?), but fuck, what if there were people protesting in the parking lot? Did I mention that, in a colossal oversight, I'd neglected to bring a set of civilian clothes, so here I was driving to this clinic in fucking uniform. Nice one. So what do I say if there are protesters: I just want a fucking pap, people! And not even really want one, but need one! Who the hell is going to believe that?

If there are protesters there I'm turning the fucking car around.

So I get there and thankfully there is no one outside to call me a murderer or whatever. So far so good? I open the door to the clinic and walk into a teeny closet-sized room. The receptionists are on the other side of - I kid you not - bulletproof glass. I have to show ID to prove I have an appointment, then I'm buzzed through a huge heavy door into the waiting room.

There are two other girls there, watching some courtroom tv show on a smallish tv in the corner of the waiting room. I filled out the forms they needed ("choose all the kinds of birth control you use: the pill, condoms, diaphragm, IUD, Depo-Provera, ... pulling out..."). Two more girls come in, looking sullen. No one speaks. Judge So-And-So lectures on.

I finally get to the gyno - she's a tall, blonde, severe woman who doesn't smile when I lamely tell her I hope her hands aren't cold. She doesn't comment on my folded uniform on the chair next to the table, doesn't say anything at all other than, "you need to relax your muscles." I'm just cattle, another random vagina. I'd wondered why my appointment was scheduled for 1:15 and not 1:00 or 1:30... but now it was clear - she was in the room with me for all of 3 min, so she probably does at least 4 exams an hour, with time in between to smoke a butt or take a nap or whatever. And for the $58 I paid? Not too bad for Planned Parenthood, I'd say.

She left the room so I could get changed again and I stepped in a glob of lube on the floor. In my socks. Which I didn't have a spare pair of. Thought about that lube in my boot for the rest of the day.

The moral of this story? Even without protesters carrying signs featuring aborted babies, going to Planned Parenthood is quite possibly the most uncomfortable experience on the planet.

"ask you what you think

because your thoughts and words are powerful"

- Kimya Dawson "Loose Lips" -

now look at all we've won, with the saber and the gun

Let me start by saying that this is not a milblog. The Army is my life, but not my Life. I have other things capturing my attention, other thoughts in my head that don't have an ACU pattern. Paradoxically, the Army is so BIG in my life, I couldn't possibly separate it from the rest - there would be only little scraps of paper. For either reason (or both), this cannot and will not ever be a strictly Army blog, and I will never register it on milblogging.com or submit a post for The Sandbox. [I am not criticizing either of these sites, they are just not for me.] And while I'm not actively trying to hide this blog from anyone in my past, current, or future chains of command, I'm not actively advertising it either. I just don't think any of those individuals need to know what things make me intimately happy or about my emails from MySpace or which memories I miss the most. 

That said, sometimes things within and about the Army force their way into my consciousness in such manner that cannot be ignored. Currently, this is the alarming dipping into the Individual Ready Reserve (IRR) that is happening more and more as repeated deployments exhaust the traditional active and reserve forces. Until recently I have only read about it in passing - take a look here (13 Stoploss) and here (Army of Dude) for some particularly heart-wrenching examples - but this week I got to meet three Soldiers who are living this nightmare.

I'm a public affairs instructor at a mobilization station that supports OIF. I was recruited for this program because I recently came home from theatre. My MOS (46Q), along with my sister MOS (46R), is in short supply for a great number of reason that don't relate to this post - but I'll spell it out at a later time, I promise. In any case, the units that have been coming through our mobsite have been more and more short-staffed. When my own unit mobilized (and this was in June of 2007, mind you), we'd agreed to fill our vacancies with infantry, forward observer, signal, chemical, aviation, and ordnance Soldiers. Call it desperation, but at least everyone we took with us was a drilling member of the National Guard. No surprise brown envelopes.

This unit we have on ground has three Soldiers who were pulled from the IRR, and not one of the three has a public affairs MOS. They are all 42As, admin Soldiers, with no military or civilian experience in working with the media or operating a professional still/video camera. And worse, there is no time to send them to school to get qualified with their (surprise!) new MOS. So they get to stop getting on with their lives and deploy, and do a job they didn't enlist to do and won't receive adequate training for. We have them for 10 days. Training for 46Q is 60; it's the same for 46R, which these three Soldiers will be expected to perform as in theatre. Here's a fucking camera, now go be like AFN. WTF?

It would be like telling me I had to deploy as a light wheeled mechanic or a laundry/shower specialist or a chaplain's assistant. A Soldier is a Soldier is a Soldier, except not really.

And troubling is the fucking apathy toward Soldiers who face this. Just today I had a conversation with two people referencing the three Soldiers I just mentioned, and one of the responses I got was, and I quote, "I don't feel bad for you Soldiers; you all signed on the dotted line." Are you fucking serious? Maybe I, maybe we agreed to be Soldiers, and it's true, we agreed to a number of sacrifices. But when do these sacrifices stop? These three have done their time in the job field they were trained in. Because they "signed on the dotted line," they now deserve what they get? How about protecting those who have already protected the rest of the country?

And for the record, and for those who don't know me, I'm not in the IRR, nor will I be in the near future, if ever. I'm in my second enlistment contract, and I'm sure I'll do 20 years. I'm not outraged/dismayed for myself, you see - it's my brothers and sisters who serve and have served who I'm worried about.

"oh I must have killed a million men

and now they want me back again"

- Phil Ochs "I Ain't Marching Anymore" -

have another drink and drive yourself home

Update Medley:

Jan 8 - met with two members of the MPAD to discuss and put to bed the horrorshow of their MRX. They were both very polite, professional, and willing to listen to my perspective of the exercise. They had a few questions for me, offered some explanation for some of the things that had happened (much of it turned out to be misunderstanding/miscommunication), and gave suggestions for MRXs in the future. 

It felt good to talk face to face, in a neutral setting (vs the AAR), and get everything out. I even got a cookie and a coke out of the deal. (Thanks again!) Hopefully we can all put this behind us and meet again in peace someday.

You can read my previous posts on the aforementioned MRX here and here.

Jan 10-11 - traveled back to Massachusetts for Nibbey's birthday and Tree's drill. Nibbey's party was a hilariously great time at Sakura Tokyo (the waitstaff now hates us) with a table full of crazy, amazing people. It was the definition of what I miss about being at home. :(

My unit also had drill that weekend and even though I don't have to attend them (as I'm on Title 10 orders), I went up there to see everyone and remember what Guard life is like. It actually went pretty well; I was part of a group of 5 who went to Camp Curtis Guild for driver's training / PMCS classes. Kinda boring but ok. It was just great to catch up with V and remind the unit what my face looks like, ya know?

One small rotten spot on the day:

When we first arrived in morning, we all spent a few minutes shooting the shit in the lobby area of the armory. Signal R (you may remember him?) walked over, surprised to see me, and shook my hand with the usual "Hey how ya been?" Then he turned to the SGM and said, "Why is she here?" (Mind you, I'm not more than 4 feet away.) He launched into this whole speech about Soldiers getting confused about their chain of command [I currently have two: one in NJ and one in MA] and "playing" the leadership. He told the SGM (I'm still standing. right. there.) that if a Soldier is on Title 10, he or she should just stay put and not mess things up.

The SGM (bless him) kind of rolled his eyes and told Signal R that this tour is not unlike a tour with counterdrug or anything else: you aren't expected to come back for drill, but you are encouraged. Signal R was all "Really?" and the SGM kept on having my back. It was the weirdest thing.

Since there was a(nother) massive storm predicted for Sunday, the SGM told everyone not to come in and to instead make up the day some other time. Safety first, right?

Before I left, I stood in his office and talked about my future. I explained to him how much I'd like to go back for the PAOC mission in Baghdad, and he questioned whether that really was the best thing for my career right now. After all, he reasoned, since First Army is willing to send me to schools that would otherwise be difficult to attend, why not ride it out another year and set myself up to fast track (in promotions)?

It was a great, great conversation. I thought a lot about it as I drove back to Tree's father's house, thought about it some more on the ride back to NJ, thought about it all the following week...

Jan 12-15 - MRX for another MPAD, this one from Texas I believe. We got off on the right foot by having the entire unit and all of the training staff present for the welcome brief, which we rewrote to head off any similar problems we'd had in the past.

They gave us some great suggestions/improvements in the AAR:

- Provide graphics/music for the units to use in their newsreel. (this unit didn't have any, so finishing up the newsreel was difficult for them)

- Provide actual news stories to accompany the scenarios. (good idea; I'm going to write some this week)

- Draft new scenarios. (any officer who has attended PAOQC has already seen our scenarios as First Army had to purchase them from DINFOS, but the LT and I are going to make up some new ones for the next MRX)

- Provide opportunities for radio training (the Rs don't get this at our MRX, mostly because it is difficult to replicate here without a studio... but I'll look into it at least)

I also made note of a few more things to include in the mission brief: What specific training/help do you need from us? Does all of your equipment work? Are there any programs you are unfamiliar with?

It just seems that the unit always has a problem with something but it is never brought to our attention until the AAR, when it's too late to do anything. You only know how to edit using Avid software but your unit laptops have Adobe Premier? We can help with that. Your laptop sucks (1 Beyond is TERRIBLE) and the USB ports don't work? We can get you another laptop. You can't export to tape? Well, obviously you won't be expected to do a DVIDS transmission.

The MRX mission is secondary to getting the unit prepared to deploy. If at any time there is an issue, especially a technical one that is out of the journalist's control, we can pause the exercise and work something out. But we can't help if we don't know we're needed. It's frustrating... I hate that feeling of Trainer vs. Unit. Even though this last MRX went much smoother than the last one, there were still things that came up in the AAR that should have been addressed way sooner. Why does this happen? 

One thing is for sure: working here is no good for my self esteem.  :/

And now, time for a (stiff) drink.

"as if it happening wasn't enough

I got to go and write a song

to remind myself how bad it sucked"

- Brand New "Seventy Times 7" -

and think about the times you spent and what they meant

Today was a much, much better day. (Everyone) pretended like nothing had happened (per usual) and (everyone) was courteous and professional. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, I tell you.

I spent the day catching up on unfinished tasks from yesterday and then getting ready for the next MRX. The exercise scenarios are pretty much good to go, only a few minor changes to be made: with each PAO unit that comes through, we change the dates/locations in our scenarios to match the actual time/place the unit will be in country.

I suppose this is a good place to give a short explanation of what the MRX even is, no? It's a 96 hour exercise meant to validate a public affairs unit's ability to execute its mission in theatre. The unit runs its 24-hour operation out of the installation public affairs office, and we drop injects to mimic what they can expect once they get to Iraq. The injects let us measure their capabilities in different areas:

- fake scenarios (press releases, response to query)

- acquisition missions (46 skills, time management, product completion)

- press conferences (research, media advisories, SME prep)

And so on. Depending on whether the unit is an MPAD or a PAOC, we tailor our injects accordingly. 

So anyway, in addition to making the date/location changes to the scenarios, I was asked to draft an example press release to accompany each one - this will make the grading process for the unit's press releases more uniform, as the grader will have an example as a reference. In this last MRX it wasn't a problem, but in the Sept MRX we had some confusion caused by graders giving conflicting corrections to the unit's releases. To eliminate that, and since I spent a good deal of my tour working on press releases, we decided I'd be the best person to draft examples for the exercise.

Now that I've bored the SHIT out of you... I totally just lost interest in this post.

"do you ever want to lead a long trail of destruction

and mow down any bullshit that confronts you?"

- Green Day "Having a Blast" -

get out of my way, I've got better things to do

Dear [redacted],

Thanks for reminding me why I need to get the fuck out of this place. It is exactly this kind of imitation "real Army" bullshit that I can really just do without. Just like the HHB party? Made me want to kill myself. That whole process was EXCRUCIATING. Much like today.

Clarification: your dizzying mood swings, sarcastic backhanded comments, belittling demeanor, and general seeming lack of social skills leave me fucking fuming. Why do you talk to me the way you do? No seriously, what is your problem? If I don't know the answer to a question, you look at me with this kind of incredulous "you-are-scum-of-the-earth-just-die" expression on your face that could melt - Chuck Norris. Your glare could kill Chuck Norris. And I'm afraid to ask you anything for fear of getting that expression. I'm sorry I don't know everything (or everyone, or everyone's telephone extension, or where you saved your 214, or what exactly broke in our photo laptop, or precisely where in Iraq FOB Fuckdesert is, etc.).

And I can only finish one thing at a time. You can't complain that something isn't done when (a) you only first mentioned it to me 5 minutes ago and (b) I'm trying to finish the 7 other things you demanded get done right now. Or in the middle of the teleconference, you look over and say in the bitchiest tone possible, "Wow, I really wish I had the [redacted]" when you'd asked for it not 10 minutes before that. Are you fucking kidding me?

Oh and then you look at the clock and announce, "Well, we didn't get too much accomplished today, did we?" FUCK YOU.

And when I'm visibly pissed, you can't just pretend nothing happened and that we're friends. We are not friends. You've made that abundantly clear.

So don't tell me you don't want me to deploy, that I can't leave you all alone, because quite frankly, I don't give a fuck anymore. Today, the first fucking day back from the holiday leave, was the last straw. I am so done feeling bad about escaping. 

Love and kisses,

Malibu Niki

(deep breath)

I am not a negative person, despite what you may have read here. I'm sarcastic and I think it's funny, but I'm not negative. This place just brings out the worst in me. And I resent being talked to like a child who doesn't know anything and ruins things out of spite. I'm a generally positive, happy person (who is occasionally sarcastic - but funny). Really. Ask anyone.

"I'm cutting you loose, I don't need this misery

your soul is toxic; you ain't no friend of mine"

- Social Distortion "Far Behind" -

UPDATE: give me back my point of view

An update to give me back my point of view:

12/29, approx 2130 - a comment waiting to be moderated in my blog:

... I'm sorry you saw us as "a group of bitter, arrogant, hateful people who didn't even TRY to participate in the exercise. We aren't that bad, I swear. I don't think we understood each others role in the exercise from the beginning, and that gave each of us a poor impression of each other. I regret we didn't finish out that AAR on the last day so we could both benefit more from the MRX ...

In honesty, I'd searched his blog for contact info, wanting to reach out, but found nothing. I suppose it's a good thing that HE found ME a few days later, because at the time I was still reeling and probably would have said a lot of unfair things - and I KNOW I would not have been open to hearing his side of anything. Calm = excellent.

My emailed response, in part:

... I wish I could explain all of the work that went into [the MRX], that goes into every MRX we've done. This time, for whatever reason, it all fell apart right in the beginning. ... I got a general feeling of suspicion from much of your unit, and maybe some of that, like you said, was just misunderstanding our roles. In our internal AAR, we agreed that next time, all members of the unit as well as the entire training staff will be present so there is no confusion.

I, too, wish the AAR hadn't been cut short. I felt like, after everything that went so wrong, there was no closure; WHY did it go wrong? What can we, as trainers, do to keep that from happening again? I can't speak for everyone, but it was a hugely unpleasant experience for me, too ...

In his initial comment, he'd suggested we get together next week and talk about the unresolved issues we all still had. I agreed, and he's right: the public affairs community is much, MUCH too small to just let it go. Our paths will cross again; I've stumbled across 46-type people I hadn't seen in years in the most random places.

Anyway, he wrote back:

... One thing about having to work at the PA office. We had a serious issue with transportation and it was hard getting a ride to the PA office from our warehouse/office. Our office had a ton of space and power outlets for broadcasters to work. I wish we had thought of seeing if it were possible for the broadcast MTT [Mobile Training Team - us] personnel to come to us. One of our AAR comments should have been that the Fort Dix PA office doesn't have good space for video editing. I don't want that to come across like an arrogant broadcaster thing because we need some space, power outlets, and quiet to do some good editing.

I do hope with all of our bitching, you were at least happy with our product. We worked hard as a broadcast section to put together those stories and the newsreel. Putting up the DVIDS was good training, too ...

He also apologized for the "instructor" thing and even made an amendment to the post, both of which I appreciate very much.

I wrote back:

... As a Q, quiet space to record audio never occurred to me, and evidently [the LT] didn't think of it either. I will bring that to her attention, as well as any other concerns you have ...

I added that I didn't really know what I was looking at in terms of the video products (I'm a print journalist myself) but that their print products were all solid.

There were a few more emails back and forth, mostly about crappy Fort Dix, marketing and DVIDS, and deploying with a PAOC. I also asked permission to use parts from our conversation here in my blog. I'm glad we were able to clear the air a little, and I look forward to speaking more in person. (I'll be sure to add a post on the meeting, as well.)

We're going to try to meet up early next week, hopefully, and any other members of the unit are welcome to come. As for Fort Dix representation, I'm not bringing the LT with me, so I'll be the only training staff member at the meeting; the rest of the staff at the MRX were TDY from other locations.

Anyway, wanted to share that.

Exhausted, and going to bed.