I'm gonna break my rusty cage and run

I really don't want to get into the whole knock-down-drag-out horrible thing, but here's a (kind of too long) summary (I'll try to be as impartial as I can but honestly, I'm still fuming) of my mindblowing (not in a good way) weekend:

Our entire purpose for going home this particular weekend (last weekend) was to attend my friend Julaaay's wedding Saturday evening. Julaaay and I worked together at Shaw's for several years and now only sporadically keep it touch, but I still consider her a friend. Anyway, we received the invitation for her wedding and RSVP'd several months ago (as in, this was not a spontaneous decision to go to the wedding).

Saturday was also the date of Tree's mother's big summer cookout/graduation party for her fiance's daughter, who recently completed hairdresser school. Tree's mother knew we had this wedding to go to when she planned her cookout.

So Saturday morning we went to Tree's mother's house to spend a little time with her while she got ready for the cookout. We called on our way over to see what she wanted for breakfast (bagels and coffee, also some for her fiance's daughter, who didn't even acknowledge our presence, much less thank us for bringing her breakfast... but I digress) and took it to her as she was getting ready for the day. We ate, chatted, said goodbye. The understand was, as we drove away, that we would stop by her cookout after the wedding was over. She knew the wedding started at 5 pm.

(Full disclosure: she also trimmed my hair a little, at her house, to fix a mistake the last hairdresser had made... which really just led to another mistake: allowing myself to become indebted to her by letting her trim my hair. Next time I'll stick with the shitty cut.)

We got dressed, met up with Yoshi and Sharty, drove to the wedding. It was beautiful, Julaaay looked like a princess, and it was really nice to spend time with the old Shaw's crew. I missed them more than I'd realized.

But everything kind of took a long time. After they were married, the guests enjoyed a cocktail hour while the official party posed for photographs. Then we went upstairs to the reception hall, the official party was introduced ("...and for the first time in public, Mr. and Mrs..."), the bride and groom's first dance, and so one. It wasn't until 7:30 when we were first being served the meal. Then the best man/maid of honor toasts, then cake cutting... then the bride's dance with her father, the groom's dance with his mother, the throwing of the bouquet and the taking-off-of-the-garter thing. Then dollar dances with the bride/groom, a conga line (!!) and so on and so on. It took awhile. And even after the "traditional" part of all of it, I was having a nice time dancing with my sister and Shaw's friends. But could you really just get up and leave in the middle of it? Oh look at me, getting ahead of myself.

So Tree's mother screams at him over the phone while we're still at the wedding (it was right after the food was served), freaking out that we weren't at her cookout yet. I guess she expected us to split the night between the two events? I don't really know because (a) she talked to Tree, not me, (b) Tree had actually been talking to his brother when she took the phone and started yelling, and (c) was evidently really drunk. At least, that's what everyone keeps telling me (like it's an excuse?). She went on about how important the cookout was to her, how important it was to her that we be there, and how she feels blown off because we weren't there already.

That left Tree in a shitty mood for the rest of the wedding, so thanks! I didn't really get to enjoy my night, either.

Before it got out of control and while I was still only mildly annoyed at her reaction to Tree and me ATTENDING A WEDDING WE'D PLANNED ON FOR MONTHS, I texted her to apologize that the wedding was running later than expected. I tried to call also, but both went unanswered. She also stopped taking Tree's calls, so when we got out of the wedding (around 10:45 pm) Tree texted his brother to see if anyone was still at the cookout and to let him know we were on our way (we first had to drop off Yoshi and Sharty).

His brother texted back that we shouldn't bother because their mother was "really mad" and that it would just "be a big scene." So I'm sure we were the talk of the stupid cookout. Whatever.

The next day Tree tried to call her to talk it out, she initially didn't want to take his call, finally talked to him. He drove over to her house (alone) and tried to explain how unreasonable it was for her to get upset when she knew we had the late wedding and we told her still stop by afterward but that it would be late. We even offered to go to eat with her Sunday night to make up for it (not that it was our fault, but just to smooth things over) but no, the cookout was "really important" and blah blah. She also told him we only call her when we need something (an unshakable desire to... bring her breakfast?) and that she feels like we put her on the back burner by not making time to go see her the way we do Tree's dad and my parents/sister. (Except Tree's dad and my parents/sister don't try to guilt us into breaking plans with other people to spend time with them.)

I just can't fucking win. We went to go see her before the cookout and offered swing by both after the cookout and the following evening to make up for missing the bulk of the cookout. Not good enough.

I understand she wants to spend time with us, especially since we've moved and aren't in MA very often, but she's going about it ENTIRELY the wrong way. Behaving like this just makes me want to go see her less, because now the next time we are there it's going to be awkward, and I just don't feel like being in that situation. I'm really too old for the drama.

So now we get to be the bad guys with everyone because we "blew her off." My life is fucking amazing.

That was an inappropriately long "summary." Well, I don't care. Suck it.

"you tied my lead and pulled my chain

to watch my blood begin to boil"

- Johnny Cash "Rusty Cage" -

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" -

but you tell me over and over and over again my friend

This makes me want to scream:

If you're outraged (I know I am), here's their email address: [redacted]. I already sent them a "confrontational" email to let them know what I thought of the video. Bravo guys. Seriously, way to go.

UPDATE 4/20:

I recieved this from Mr. Dennis Heitzmann, Senior Director, Center for Counseling and Psychological Services Affiliate Professor, Clinical and Counseling Psychology

Good morning [Sgt Malibu Niki]:

Thank you for the opportunity to give some background on this regrettable circumstance, and to allow us to sincerely apologize for the harm that has has been done. We have apologized to our campus vets and many others, many of whom have become supporters of our efforts to clarify and make amends.

The video you viewed was one of several that had been produced to highlight the services available to students, while addressing issues of relevance to members of the faculty (including ironically, unfair stereotyping of groups of individuals, sensitizing instructors to the unique milieu of their students, the inappropriateness of instructor-conveyed political positions in the classroom, reducing risk and mitigating anger). In the faculty workshop context, which has included veterans, the videos are used as a stimulus to discussion, and the very issues cited above, as well as others, are openly discussed in an effort to educate and support.

Unfortunately, since the posting of that single video to the cyber community, the portrayal of the student as a veteran, outside of the workshop context, unfairly stereotypes our student veterans. Whereas the producers of the video would never wish to be party to any such intention, it is understandable that this could be interpreted as such. Many weeks ago, upon realizing the unintended impact on some and the potential impact on others, we immediately removed the video from our website, and it will not be used in future workshops.

The Division of Student Affairs has enjoyed a longstanding quality relationship with the Office of Veterans Programs, and the student counseling service has helped scores of veteran students to resolve their unique challenges, as well as to facilitate their transition to the university. We would not want to jeopardize those relationships in any way, particularly in view of the many services we believe we have yet to offer this important student constituency. To that end, among other things we have been working with the Penn State University Veterans Organization to seek renewed ways to provide focused support and services.

As an infantry trainee at Fort Dix many years ago, I recall the words of Corporal
Ingram, my team leader, who reminded us that we can expect to fall time and again, but to get up, check your flanks, and keep moving till the mission's accomplished. Together with the support of the veterans, some of whom are seeing this as an important opportunity to not only right the wrong that has been done, but to advance the cause for all veterans, we feel a renewed sense of affiliation and support in our mutual efforts to provide quality services to our returning veterans --- perhaps the best way we can make amends to those who have been offended.........D.H.

P.S. If you have already forwarded your message to other veterans, I would appreciate I if you would forward my message above for their information

Dennis Heitzmann, Ph.D. Senior Director, Center for Counseling and Psychological Services Affiliate Professor, Clinical and Counseling Psychology

"ah, you may leave here for four days in space

but when you return, it's the same old place"

- Barry McGuire "Eve of Destruction" -

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" -

but I've made long term plans based on these mistakes

Status: mid-afternoon, just out of the shower

Alcohol units consumed: 1 2 3

Weather: snowing

So someone told me today that they have been too "grumpy" to be my friend (in response to me asking why they fell off the face of the planet for the, I dunno, umpteenth time). Yeah, seriously. If I hadn't been trying to slay this dragon of a problem for, like, years, I'd probably be hurt/surprised. Instead I'll just laugh about it here and openly mock this individual and all the reasons why he lets his life suck the way it does. Faced with a problem/challenge/whatever, you can (a) do something about it or (b) do nothing but stop whining. Kthanks.

I did send a sarcastic response to the email which I likely won't hear back to for some time. Fuckin bawwww.

In happier, more interesting news... the new episode of House is on tonight and I cannot fucking wait. I've been watching House reruns on USA to temper my appetite but they are a weak substitute. And I've pretty much given up on CSI now that Grissom left (and Sara, and Warrick), so all I have to look forward to on television is House and The Office.

Oh, and fuck: back to work tomorrow. Joy.

"you never knew

(well I never told you)

everything I know about breaking hearts

I learned from you, it's true"

- Taking Back Sunday "There's No 'I' In Team" -

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" -

give me back my point of view

So, I went ahead and did it. The PAOC we have at Dix asked me if I wanted to go (half joking or not), and I said yes. Yes, I'll deploy again, as soon as possible, in fact. I haven't feel so... relieved in... months. I belong there. I hope you can understand.

I haven't written much in the last couple days for a few reasons.

1. The abortion that was the Mission Readiness Exercise (MRX). I won't get into it too much because it honestly depresses the hell out of me, but I will say this: there have been few other events in my life that have so broken my spirit. The PAOC was great (more on this in a future post) but the MPAD... they were a group of bitter, arrogant, hateful people who didn't even TRY to participate in the exercise. You can't just decided not to qualify with your weapon at premob, so why would you think you can decide not to validate at your mission specific exercise? You don't have a choice.

It seems the leadership of the MPAD evidently didn't pass on the whole purpose of the exercise, leaving the lower enlisteds questioning (a) who we, as the trainers, even were and (b) why they had to listen to us. They missed the entire point. Some of that was simply the leaders not passing down the info from the OPORD, the rest was an overall negative attitude toward everything. The most maddening:

Why did we have to work out of the PAO shop instead of our barracks/warehouse? Because there was an EXERCISE going on. How can we conduct it unless we're all in the same spot?

Why were there so many "hey you" missions? Poor prior planning? Nope, those are called FRAGOs, and if you've been in the Army more than 10 minutes, you know they can happen all the time. And those "hey you" missions were built into the exercise matrix, as FRAGOs, way in advance. I can show you.

Some of the members of the MPAD blogged about their experience with us and how terrible it was: while I am all about freedom of expression and the need to vent, I hope the blogs will be addressed by people much higher than their commander. The bloggers ignorantly blamed the whole mess on us. I wouldn't be so upset if it were valid complaints, but they simply aren't.

I was even referenced in one of the blogs:

... We called DVIDS and their satellite provider and they weren't getting enough power. So one of the "instructors" comes out to help and said, "I was able to send some stuff when I set up across the street last night." When we did that, we got a sweet lock and sent about 30 min of footage ...

I was that "instructor." Even though I was clearly helping them out, which he admits, I was still an "instructor." I've linked both of the blogs above for you, but I'm going to force myself not to look at them again as they make me want to beat my face against a wall. I'm so angry I can hardly speak.

I know I said I didn't want to say much about it and I did anyways. So now I'm moving on.

2. The holiday blahs. I'm just not feeling very merry this year, you know? If it wasn't for Tree, we wouldn't have had any decorations out, or even a tree up. He jollied up the house, and I'm reluctantly admitting publicly that I'm glad for it. Christmas and all the crap that goes along with it just sucked the life out of me. I wish I could blame it all on one thing (the HHB party, the bleak economy, the MRX, post-deployment depression, etc.) but it's all and none of those things. The more I try to nail it down, the less like the truth it seems.

3. I have the bubonic plague (or something). I have been fighting this mutant cold for two weeks and still can't breathe, can't taste anything, can't sleep. My throat is still sore, my eyes still water constantly, my head still feels like it's going to explode. I wish it would.

4. Trying to be a better wife. This one is the toughest, and the most personal (I debated whether or not to include it here, but fuck it, it's my blog, right?). Tree and I have gone through some extraordinarily difficult times, and I know an impending deployment won't make it any easier on us. But while I'm here, while I can, I'm going to make a real, serious effort to do all of the things I should have been doing all along. He will give me this deployment, and I will learn to give him what he needs as well.

I just finished watching the last part of Band of Brothers and now it's almost midnight. I should get some sleep - it's a long drive back to New Jersey tomorrow.

I'll try to get back into the blogging spirit. I've missed it.

____________________

12/30: please read UPDATE: give me back my point of view to see my conversation with one of the bloggers from the MPAD

"oh well, it seems like such fun

until you lose what you had won"

- Jet "Look What You've Done" -

the chaos that controlled my mind

I was volunteered to be a part of the unit holiday party committee. If I believed in Hell, Hell would be the holiday party committee.

Today's committee meeting was TWO AND A HALF HOURS LONG, and we accomplished NOTHING. We decided which room the coat rack will be kept in.

Also during this meeting:

- A MSG in the unit offered to donate $100 to use for gift cards for the 10 older children. After 15 minutes of unnecessarily heated debate whether 10 gift cards would be enough (what if more kids show up?) or if younger kids would rather have gift cards instead of stuffed animals (a valid question) or if older kids would feel left out as their gift bags would be less full (are you kidding me people?), she threw up her hands and said, "That's it, I'm all DONE. I will NOT be donating anything." That's the holiday spirit.

- No one wants to be responsible for supervising the moon bounce. ("Will I be relieved? Because I don't want to stand there all night.")

- Fake poinsettias vs real poinsettias. A more important consideration than this year's election. Your thoughts?

- The HHB commander suggested the following: we buy Santa Hats for all the children, that we buy food for double the people who RSVP'd ("just in case"), that we requisition a giant sign announcing the party to attach to the fence outside the facility (don't know where he expects to get this thing when we're only a week out and this weekend is Thanksgiving), that we put the coat rack in the game room, that we wrap Santa's HMMWV with gold garland (in addition to the lights already affixed to it).

- Someone else declared that the commander wanted garland on the HMMWV because he's "so Puerto Rican," resulting in a collective gasp/awkward silence.

- Should all the volunteers wear Santa hats (since the kid idea got shot down)?

- Who should give out the presents? Santa? (But Santa won't be there that long.) The brigade commander? (The commander's wife gently suggested that wasn't a great idea.) HHB commander? ("But I thought I was helping out with games?") Would it be impersonal to just leave them on a table for kids to take on their way out? (Yes. And the kids would probably steal some.)

- Where is the coat rack going again?

And so on. For two and a half hours. This is why I left Iraq? Fucking send me back. I'm not even joking.

"pretending to feel the same,

then turn around and leave again"

- Maroon 5 "This Love" -

strangers down the line, lovers out of time

It starts out perfect - catch your breath, can't stand to be apart, hold hands, kisses in the car, late nights talking... then the good manners fall down, you start to resent quirks you previously found interesting... tempers become short, you forget how to compromise, grudges are held, you fall asleep angry... and finally you find yourself eating meals together in silence, because to open your mouth would be to invite a fight, and saying nothing at all is better than the screaming.

Why bother?

I travel too fucking much - I can't sustain a decent relationship from across the globe. And I'm not willing to give up this life I've made for myself. If it comes down to love or this life, this life wins hands down. And I'm not saying that the travel is everything - maybe I'm just not programmed for a long-term relationship.

I am about to move again - tomorrow, actually. I'm moving to New Jersey for a year (at least a year) unless I can find another deployment (but that's another conversation in itself...). I am moving despite only being home (really home) for a month... a week in Florida in June, last two weeks in Mississippi... so much time away from my own bed, the comfort of a whole house... so much time with my things in bags, packed in three drawers and a wall locker... and yet here I am, on the verge of another adventure... the whole highway stretched out before me... a long monotonous trip I've grown so fond of. And then - alone! A new place to live, more bags to live out of, yet another strange bed and yet again: feeling my way around a different place with people who don't know me.

(scared and) Alone.

(can I do this) Alone.

(don't want to be) Alone.

I work the word around my mouth like it were a marble... foreign, cold marble... cold... alone...

I miss us so bad it hurts. SobadIcan'tbreathesobaditfeelslikeImightexplodesobadIcan'tstopcryingsobadit'skillingme

"so please...

you know you're just like me.

next time I promise we'll be perfect.

perfect.

perfect."

- Smashing Pumpkins "Perfect" -

the shit's so deep you can't run away

Today after formation, Signal-R suddenly interrupted a conversation to notice my tongue piercing and gave me a rash of shit about it, "Sergeant" (love that condescending tone... takes me back to the arguments we got into at Dix and then once in Kuwait - on the fucking range, no less). He then proceeded to point out the high level of brass here (really? I hadn't noticed... and truth be told, there is WAY less here at Striker than there is in the IZ... but I digress...) and told me that if some SGM catches me, it'll put "everyone" in a "world of hurt."

Ok - I know the policy on body jewelry, I shouldn't have this in while in uniform (and more importantly, I suppose, in formation), I get that, I admit that. But spare me the doucebaggery. If a SGM catches me (unlikely, but possible I guess), he's not going to seek out Signal-R (who is not even in my chain of command) in particular and demand to know why he didn't do anything about it. Even if this hard-charging theoretical SGM came and found MY SGM, he could alway deny knowing about it and promise to take care of it. And maybe I'd get counseled (oh no). So Signal-R's playing of the "think about the unit" card is bullshit (it also implies that I CARE about the unit... but that's another story...).

A silver lining to the horseshit (in my increased annoyance, I just upgraded the conversation to horseshit: less commonly heard than bullshit, so therefore worse): EBRI and M5 both deflected a little of the above rash of shit by piping in and trying to distract/lighten up Signal-R. In light of that and in light of other recent events, I will admit that I judged both prematurely and unfairly, and for that I apologize. Sometimes I don't know decent people when I see them, and sometimes I see "decent" people despite glaring examples on the contrary (isn't that right - ?).

Also - only a few more days of being stuck with this group of imbiciles and then I am free! Three glorious months and then...! SAB, please don't fail me... my sanity depends on it...

- Green Day "Walking Contradiction" -

of a runaway american dream

my horoscope for today: "if you are feeling extra sensitive or emotional right now, don't fight it. turn to your loved ones for the comfort you need -- even just a short phone call could make you feel ten times better.

do not worry if you are going through some sad feelings, it's nothing to be concerned about. you are an imperfect human and it is a healthy thing to process all your feelings -- both the positive, 'it's going to be a great day' feelings and the negative 'i don't want to get out of bed' feelings."

ha. you have no fucking idea.

do you realize that i'm 22? when the fuck did this happen? i simultaneously feel like i'm 15 and 50. i'm either slapping myself for being so naive or realizing with horror how bitter i am. where did the last, like 4 years go? i've wasted so much fucking time being miserable, and why? ok... yes... i'll fucking admit it: i LIKE it. miserable is manageable, miserable i can take. miserable is familiar (where did i hear that?) and won't surprise me. it's safe.

but i hate it as much as i love it... does that make sense? i would KILL to be happier, you know? i just can't let go... and ever decision i make seems to go back to misery. is that even possible? even when i think i'm in love... can't embrace it fully unless it fucks me up a little.

and i see that this is only holding me back, i KNOW. i've been trying to turn all this angst and anger into something productive... can you imagine? can you imagine what i could accomplish if i could harness this? the thought... almost... scares me.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

can we please just talk about this? can you stop shutting down every time i try to talk to you about something that is bothering me? i'm going to have a mental fucking breakdown if i can't talk to SOMEONE about this. do you see the way my hands shake? the circles under my eyes? i want to dig my fingers into my eyes until i'm bleeding, can't see, claw my skin raw, slam my head against the wall until i black out. i'm falling the fuck apart.

this is fucking BAD and i can't.. i can't breathe sometimes. it makes me sick, i feel completely helpless and i hate that, i hate that more than you know. me? helpless? who saw THAT coming? i've tried so fucking hard to set myself up so that i don't need anyone for shit. of the most part, i don't... except for this... i can't keep all of this in my head or i'll go fucking crazy, i promise you. can you see what a big deal this is for me to even tell you this? please don't turn your back on me, i just want to talk, please.

i... i can't do this by myself.

...

today i realized something both insignificant and earth-shattering as i was reaching into my pocket for my chapstick. do you know how long i've had this particular tube of chapstick? i bought it before i went to fort dix and started using it probably a month into training. this never happens! usually by now it has either gotten lost or gone through the wash and melted in the dryer. i don't think i have ever, in my entire life, kept a tube long enough to use the whole thing. i can never hang on to chapstick for some reason.

kind of like my men.

...

Rico: i'm not over you. it's been 6 fucking years since you told me you loved me for the first time, and yeah, i really believed you, and that still fucking hurts. you can see the damage in me every single day. i set my heart in your hands so completely - i've never been so open and unguarded with anyone since you. yeah, it was a shitty relationship, but i still believed in the power of loving someone and its ability to solve any problem that arises. even when you were verbally (and eventually physically) abusive with me, i honestly thought it would be ok if only i loved you a little more, a little more... but loving you turned out to not be enough. par for the fucking course, as it would turn out.

what hurts me - crushes me - isn't that you fell for her. that i understand. what fucking destroys me is the fact that you LIED so easily and completely and never ONCE stopped to think about what that would do to me. the day you realized you loved her, the fucking DAY, you should have told me you didn't want to be with me anymore and spared me the next YEAR of agony. instead you told me i was wrong, paranoid, that you loved only me, and even when it was clear as day that you were lying, i continued to lie to MYSELF, like to myself for YOU, so you could have your cake and eat it too. don't you see that? all i wanted was for you to be happy, as the expense of myself. and i was willing to forgive, try to understand, if only you'd been honest with me...

sometimes i really think the day i found the letter she wrote you about the baby was the worst day of my life. i've felt that icy feeling in the pit of my stomach since then, but never like i did that day.

from the bottom of my heart, and with all of my soul: FUCK YOU.

and CF: i can barely bring myself to speak your name. what you did to me is equally unforgivable, but for different reasons. you never loved me but you told me you did, and you never loved her, though i'm sure you told her you did just the same. you stayed with me because it was convenient, and maybe you wanted to get caught, i don't know, you were so sloppy with you actions i can only reason that you didn't care if i found out. you never cared enough to even try to shelter me from the horrible truth, and you let her TEAR INTO ME while i stood there completely defenseless, armed only with your feeble explanation of your behavior. you brought her to our HOUSE, you held her in MY CAR. MY FUCKING CAR. in that way you are worse than Rico, because your actions had nothing to do with love and everything to do with YOURSELF. you never gave a SHIT about me.

but i ignored it, didn't i? ignored what i knew, anyways. and even as i found things out, i'd scream and through shit and yeah, that one time i hit you in the face, and then what? i'd cry and you'd hold me and the next day, a few days later, it was ok, like nothing happened. even as she rubbed my face in it! even as she described the inside of our apartment, or gleefully told me how you couldn't keep your hands off her when you ended up at her house after we'd had a fight, or how she met you every morning at work and brought you a coffee only minutes after i'd dropped you off, or recounted in sickening detail the threesome you had with her and rick the FIRST FUCKING MONTH WE LIVED TOGETHER, i fucking LET IT GO. how fucking STUPID was i to keep going back for more? i don't know who i hate more, you or myself.

NEVER, NEVER AGAIN.

...

so where are you? prince charming? where you hiding?

are there any truthful, faithful guys our there? hello? hello??

honest... LOYAL... MINE.

and... AND i want someone to know the rootless life i am going to lead, and be ok with it. can you really see me standing in the kitchen with an apron on, a plate of cookies in my hands? meeting you at the front door with a kiss? that isn't me, i can't be the one to sit at home and wonder what the fuck is going on. there will be no two car garage, white picket fence, golden retriever. i'm not sure i even want a house - or kids - at all. i'm not even sure i should be in a fucking relationship with anyone, nevermind try to settle down anywhere. my life is too fucking short to sit anywhere. i've already lost too much time. i want to chase you around the world and be chased, i want to wake up in a different city as soon as i've learned my way around the last one.

i thought i'd come close to an understanding, a heartbeat in time with mine, but it turns out the closer i get, the farther away it seems i am. you cannot find yourself in another person and think that's it, there's your refuge. is there really a light at the end of the tunnel? i'm beginning to think there isn't.

i'm always running, always jumping through the hoops, always trying and hoping that my efforts will pay off in the end... and you look at me like you don't even know me. i look in the mirror and i barely know myself. i should be deliriously happy with this life i've been afforded, with the result of my sweat. i could go anywhere from here, and i will, make no mistake. i just want someone to come with me, travel and grow and BURN with me the way i have to. it's a waste of a day if i don't feel, at least once, like my heart is going to explode. i can't stand stagnancy, i won't ever allow myself to be tied down. so yeah, maybe i'll NEVER be satisfied! there are a dozen places i need to LIVE, a thousand places i need to SEE, a million things i need to DO. can you keep up with me? i'm starting to doubt that you can. i can't afford to lose any more time, i should be spiraling off in another direction, miles and miles from here. can you hold my had from across the world? i can already feel your fingers starting to slip.

so maybe... maybe i really am better off alone.

and maybe it's time to start dealing with the reality of just how fucked up i am. i could run until i can't breathe, drink until i can't stand, crawl in the sand after the shadow of MY american dream, and bathe myself near clean with the useless tears i've shed, and NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING will absolve me of my sins against MYSELF. i've ever done anything to you but LOVE you and that was never enough. how can i compare? SHE is so beautiful, so perfectly shaped, so smart and lovely, everything you want, SHE makes you light up like no one else, obviously, because she's STILL THERE, still looming in the background, just out of sight. and what have i been, the good times girl? my plain, lumpy self, a head full of problems... what was i really expecting?

how was it to know that you could have us both if only you'd learned the right words to say to me? and no matter what i do, no matter how much of myself i cut off and try to give to you, i'm always 2.

SHE has been different every time, but i'm always the same.

worn thin and aways 2.

so tell me - what is there to do but run?

"...someday, i don't know when

we're gonna get to that place

where we really want to go

and we'll walk in the sun..."

- Bruce Springsteen "Born to Run" -

you gave me something that I didn't have, but had no use

(grinds teeth)

this is fucking retarded. CF strikes again... this is getting SO old.

...

so Nibbey left this morning... still not sure how i really feel about that. in complete honesty, i feel more than a little betrayed. two weeks without so much as a phone call, then i find out why last night. no one thought to give me a call and let me know Rico was back.

and i'm not sure she would have even told me she was leaving if we hadn't run into her at the mall saturday night. i'd told her she was more than welcome to move in with me in new bedford for the summer... and no? i'm not the one who up and left for a year, HE IS. I'VE BEEN HERE THE WHOLE TIME. i dropped what i was doing HOW many times to go to her house, take her away from whatever was going on? that's not even important. i'm not looking to be repaid or anything. i just...

and i KNOW they've been friends for longer than she and i have, but fucking seriously. after all the shit that happened, and she knows about EVERYTHING... what the fuck? and i'm not asking her to choose sides, i'm really not. i would never ask her to do that. i just never expected to by number two to fucking Rico.

i can't describe to you how hurt i am because (a) i really don't think she would have told me had i not seen her and (b) LOOK WHO IT FUCKING IS!

a phone call would have been nice. is that too much to ask for? i'm going to start screaming. i'm going to stand up in the middle of this library and start screaming and throwing shit and the cops are going to have to come and escort me out.

fuck this shit.

...

check for new mail... check for new mail... check for new mail... check for new mail... check for new mail...

sigh...

- Foo Fighters "Best of You" -

like indecision to call you... and hear your voice of treason

ah yes, NOW i remember what a keyboard looks like.

(waves away dust cloud)

hope this thing still works...

so friday night SloB came back to massachusetts. he's stationed at Fort Drum in NY, but he lived here before he enlisted, and now that he's home from his year in afghanistan, he took leave and drove down here to see his family and friends.

let me interrupt to put out there that i HATE this man, and the only reason his worthless existence even enters my thoughts is because he's friends with Rico and BB for one, and two, he's married to one of my semi-friends from highschool, who is actually closer friends with K-Dawg. so i sort of have to accept the fact that he's alive.

so. friday night and i was at the apartment with Rico and BB and BB's latest weekend girlfriend, and SloB was supposed to be coming over later. i drank a few and fell asleep kind of early, maybe around midnight or so. i had to work saturday morning, so i didn't want to be too hung over / still trashed on my ride to work.

around 3 in the morning i am woken by loud obnoxious drunken yelling from the tv room. Rico sleeps through almost anything, so i punched him until he woke up and told him rather rudely to go see what the fuck was going on. so he got up, opened his door, and yelled down the hallway, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

The Noisy Bitch, who was making all the ruckus, proceeded to yell back, "FUCK YOU, DUDE! IT'S FRIDAY NIGHT!" so then he yells back "FUCK YOU IT'S MY GODDAMN HOUSE! BE QUIET OR GET THE FUCK OUT!"

there was continued yelling back and forth between them after that until SloB intercepted. he stood in the doorway to the room we were in and tried to defuse the situation, promising to keep her quiet.

i found out from BB the next night that SloB's idea of keeping The Noisy Bitch quiet was by fucking her in BB's room. niiiiiice.

...

and by the way, i was contacted again two days ago by my Restricted Caller, previously mentioned a few entries ago. except she was posing to be someone else... the (instant message) conversation is as follows:

his sn: HEY

me: omg, hi

his sn: WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN UP TO?

me: not much, you?

his sn: ___ IS PISSED AT ME

me: i coulda told you that after she fucking called me

his sn: i know

his sn: what do you think i should do?

me: about?

his sn: ___

[by this point i had realized that this was not the person they were claiming to be, due to typing style - all caps, then all lowercase - and the obvious lack of... i dunno... personal touch? this is not how you start off a conversation with someone you supposedly care about and haven't spoke to in two months without letting them know why.]

me: prove this is you

his sn: you go by elocin

me: more than that

his sn: like what?

his sn: look if you are going to give me a hard time also, i don't want to talk to you

me: i'm not

me: i just want to be sure you're you

his sn: just forget it

me: no

his sn: whatever

me: what diable2 character do i play with?

me: diablo2*

[long pause, no response]

me: nice try, whomever you are

[another pause, and then:]

his sn: how about the ring? prove anything...?

me: um, nope

me: look, i already told you i'd go away, i haven't called, haven't done anything. so there's no reason to harass me

me: and he ended up with the ring by accident, i sent an email with my address asking for it back, i don't know what else you want from me.

[pause]

his sn signed off at 4:39:00 PM.

the mean side of me thinks i should have played along a little, or maybe told her all the things he's told me and what he's said about her. and maybe i won't have to wear this scarlet fucking A on my chest alone, because damn fucking straight i'm not the only person in the *wrong* here. and i'm sick of carrying the repercussions of our actions by myself.

how's that for a "growling puppy"???

...

ha! my dad just asked me about the scratches on my car, the ones from backing into the plow...

- Blink 182 "I Miss You" -

hey, so glad you could make it

worst morning EVER! i would rant but i haven't the time nor the energy. i have to get to work for 5 so i can't stay long... just wanted to type down the thoughts that have been suffocating me all day.

talked to my Knight for a bit yesterday afternoon... it'll be nice to see him this weekend. i'm more appreciative of his willingness to listen to me bitch than he knows (misplaced modifier??). hmm... but what are we going to do tomorrow night? suggestions, anyone??

yeah, so, left HIS house this morning in tears, AGAIN... STUPID, STUPID! i keep telling myself, it's $3,000, but i'm starting to care less and less. maybe i should give up and just cut my losses now...? went home, changed quick, blow dried my hair, and left. the potential job inquiry went surprisingly smooth... now i'm left with the decision to switch jobs or not. as usual, still haven't finalized my master plan yet, but stay tuned...

drove from there to see K-Dawg... had "senior year: retrospective" over eggs and bacon at IHOP. it was a good time. talked about the people we've seen since we graduated, about the people we haven't seen, about the people we wish we've seen. i love hanging out with her because we don't always have to talk about the major problems plaguing us... it's nice to forget about them for awhile and get back into good old fashioned high school gossip. i'd been feeling pretty unloved until i got to her house, but she made me feel better, and the two of us laughed at how much of an idiot Rico is. see? nothing to stress about. i just keep losing my head. i need to calm down. anyways, i enjoyed reliving senior year with her, but thinking about it made me a little sad... life seemed so much simpler a year ago. i was gonna go away for training after i graduated, come back, get a good job, move in with Rico, get married, have a kid, and live "happily ever after."

no, actually, i probably would have KILLED myself if my life had worked out that way. thank you, my VIP, for opening my eyes, and for making me realize i DON'T have to be unhappy for the rest of my life. maybe there ARE people out there who can love me and care for me and treat me the way i should be treated. i need to find him... but i've already found the one i REALLY want...

NO! YOU KNOW WHAT I NEED? A FUCKING PHONE CALL OR EVEN A STUPID EMAIL LETTING ME KNOW WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON! NOT SOME MYSTERIOUS COMMENT THAT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE AFTER ALMOST 4 WEEKS OF NOTHING! IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR TO LEAVE ME HANGING OUT HERE, NOT EVEN KNOWING WHAT I'M HANGING ON TO, IF ANYTHING AT ALL! I WANT SOME FUCKING GUIDANCE, SOME CLOSURE, SOME ANSWERS, WHATEVER! I CAN'T JUST FADE AWAY INTO THE BACKGROUND AND PRETEND IT NEVER HAPPENED BECAUSE I'M FUCKING GLAD IT DID AND I DON'T WANT TO LOSE WHAT I REALIZED I HAD IN YOU!

what's it like watching a train wreck as it happens?

FUCKING CALL ME!

"oh look at my face

my name is might have been

my name is never was

my name's forgotten"

- Hole "Celebrity Skin" -

because she only wants the wrong way

i somewhat made peace with myself today. and how did i do that? funny you should ask...

Rico's apartment building only provides parking for tenants, so everyone that came to the party last night had to park at the convenience store down the road, or at the church, which is right across the street. lazy me picked the church parking lot. so then this morning, standing on the porch smoking a butt, i happened to look over at my little car and saw what looked like a flyer on the windshield. let me remind you that today is sunday. curious, i finished my cigarette and walked over to see what it was.

it seems that the church people didn't like the fact that my car was parked in their parking lot while there were having service this find sunday morning. so some stupid bastard stuck a HUGE ASS florescent ORANGE sticker right in the MIDDLE of the windshield, bearing the words:

VIOLATION! This car is parked illegally and is therefore subject to fines and/or towing. Your license plate has been recorded.

ok. that's fine. except there are NO signs prohibiting parking in the GIGANTIC parking lot. i know because i checked. and this sticker took up a good portion of my windshield and could be seen from the street. i'm lucky my car didn't get fucking towed. and so are the church people, because then they would have a window or two to replace.

pissed off? just a little. and i wasn't in the most pleasant of moods to begin with. i didn't eat hardly anything yesterday and then drank on an empty stomach so i was feeling a little woozy, had a really shitty night altogether, woke up sore from sleeping on a hardwood floor, and had a vague recollection of a drunken telephone conversation with someone i was hurting. i'd been trying to figure out what to say to him and my head hurt. now i had to get a razor and scrape the fucking thing off so i could drive my car.

so i'm standing in the parking lot scraping away and everyone going into the church is looking at me (stupid me parked right near the door) and my head is throbbing and i feel like shit and i just want to scream, "WHY DON'T YOU TAKE A FUCKING PICTURE!" at the church people and put a fucking brick through one of their windows and then suddenly...

i didn't give a shit. because it could have been a lot worse. the sticker, while ugly and ANNOYING, was put there by the church people, not the police, and it was only a warning. there wasn't a parking citation on my windshield, and apparently there could have been. i guess. even with no signs. or a cop could have driven by and seen the sticker and had my car towed. but all i had to do was scrape the thing off and park somewhere else, that's all. it could have been a lot worse.

and that's my POINT. my whole LIFE could be a lot worse. what does complaining change? absolutely nothing. happiness is a CHOICE. and the only way to achieve happiness is to grab the bull by the balls and take it. i WANT to be happy. and if that means doing something that everyone else thinks is crazy then so be it. i am only one person, i cannot please everybody. but i've spent so long trying to do that i forgot about myself. i don't want to follow the rules anymore.

ok. chew on this: so i'm driving along this straightaway (metaphorically speaking) and at the end i see a stop sign. it's late, i can see there's no one else on the road with me, so i speed up. i'm almost to the stop sign, it's right in front of me. no one at the intersection.

what do i do? do i stop because it's the *right* thing to do? whose right? maybe it's my wrong. maybe i think that the stop sign should be a yield. maybe i don't believe in stop signs at all.

so i fucking run it.

(sigh) i have a feeling that i'm the only person who will understand that analogy. comparing running a stop sign to the direction my life is taking...? and if ONE fucking person makes note of the legality issue in both situations... I SO DO NOT WANT TO HEAR IT!! i'm an adult, DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE!

...on a darker note...

drinking last night was horrible. i guess that's what happens... i was drinking way too quickly, one after another. there were ghosts in my bottle, and tears of a man shed over me. i drank and drank and then chased it all down with some tears of my own.

i hated myself... doing a lot of that lately... and still missing him...

- Sublime "Wrong Way" -

and I swear, you're just like a pill

i should be the fucking photo editor. and i'm so pissed about it, i'm not going to say anything else school-related or else i might put my foot through the monitor.

5 fucking voicemails from Rico while i was at school, and after formation when he called and i ignored his calls, he left another two. it's just great how i used to have to almost bribe him to send me a single text message during the day... and how now that i'm gone he's turned all soft and gentle and "caring." and clingy... SPINELESS! he's a fucking WORM, a PARASITE, all he cares about is what HE CAN GAIN for being with me. he doesn't care about ANYONE except HIMSELF. he's a fucking CHILD, he wants everything handed to him, requiring him to put forth as little effort as possible. how could i be so fucking STUPID?

have to go upstairs... (sigh)

- Pink "Just Like a Pill" -