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" -

well darlin' I'm telling you now

Thank you for reading this, because I need to tell you something.

If you ever need anyone to talk to, if you ever feel overwhelmed or scared or depressed and don't know what to do with yourself, please please please call me. I care about you deeply and I'm worried about you. I might not physically be there all the time, but I'm always there for you, at whatever hour and in any form of communication. I can't imagine this world without you, you know that? You make the day beautiful.

And that goes for all of you, whoever 'you' might be. I'm serious. I'll talk to anyone.

At any time: malibuniki@gmail.com.

"when the stars are shining in the sky

have I told you why the nights are long?"

- Rod Stewart "Have I Told You Lately" -

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" -

when the pigs try to get at ya, park it like it's hot

Hey you! You're in luck! I happen to have a 1974 Plymouth Duster for sale, which is, like, exactly the project car you have been looking for!

Check it out on Craigslist:

https:​/​/​accounts.​craigslist.​org/​post/​shwpst?​pii=​1125895120&​db=​lv

And I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I really, really want to get rid of this car, and I will take any reasonable offer (and maybe even unreasonable ones). Not because there is something wrong with it, it's just that when I bought it (in 2007) I had some crazy idea that I'd restore the thing into a beautiful Mopar masterpiece. I don't even know how to change a tire. I'm clearly an idiot. So now the thing is just sitting there and I will in all likelihood never restore it (who was I kidding, really).

So please buy my car! If it's not something you're into, tell your friends! The mailman! Your proctologist!

"I'm a gangsta, but y'all knew that"

- Snoop Dog "Drop It Like It's Hot" -

I'm a sailor peg... and I lost my leg!

Best Easter ev-ar.

1. Whole family

2. (excuse to have the house immaculately clean)

3. Fucking delicious food

4. Beautiful new orchids

5. (threw away the awful smelling 'Chocolate Shit Suede' candles)

6. Help feeding (wild) geese

7. Super Nintendo with my sister

8. 'Chocolate Cake' shots with my mom

9. Adult Easter Egg Hut

10. Didn't have to drive 6 hours back home

I remember what I miss about Massachusetts

"I'm shipping off... to find my wooden leg!"

- Dropkick Murphys "I'm Shipping Up To Boston" -

I don't need a better thing

Part II

It was both the longest and the shortest drive of my life. It felt like it took a lifetime to get to Tree, but then I was right there, skirting the cops and parking my car in front of the ambulance.

The ambulance.

Oh, and the Jeep, on its side.

Parked, shut my car off, jogged up the hill.

Tree was standing on the sidewalk looking small and about to cry. As I got closer, I took stock of his body parts: Arms, two. Legs, both there. Face, not bleeding. I eased my arms around him, afraid to squeeze a broken rib or fractured arm I might have missed.

He was shaking, vibrating, and talking a mile a minute - to me, the cops, the owners of the fence he destroyed when he rolled the Jeep across their lawn. 

He kept laughing, almost mechanically, about how he managed not to get any of his freshly-bought coffee on his ACUs - but there was blood on his pants, along the opening to his pocket. His fingers had been cut in the broken glass and were bandaged, but still bleeding a lot. "Can you get more bandaids?" I asked. He vaguely shook his head. He'd refused transport to the hospital and the EMTs had driven away almost as soon as I got there.

Standing a few yards away was a dazed looking man in a navy blue sweatshirt. "Is that the guy?" I whispered to Tree. He nodded. "So what the hell happened? Did he fall asleep or what?" Tree didn't know. I gently hugged him again and looked further up the hill at the man's car, which had come to rest, on all four wheels, in front of a mail box on the other side of the street. "Are they going to cite him?" Tree shrugged and shushed me.

The man walked over to us hesitantly and apologized (though Tree later told me he had already apologized about a hundred times). He told us a friend was coming to pick him up, but that Tree should call him if he needed anything. He gave us his business card. "And, uh, I really appreciate you serving our country." Then a truck drove up and he hopped in and was gone.

"So, it's pretty clear what happened," said one of the cops, walking over. "You can see where he crossed into you lane, and where you went up onto the sidewalk to avoid him. And we did cite him, just so you are aware." Tree nodded. I nodded. The cop continued, "I should have the accident report completed by this afternoon, tomorrow morning the latest, and you can go pick it up any time." His hand-held chirped, and he walked away.

The firefighters were standing in a little cluster near the Jeep, quietly talking and waiting for the tow trucks. The first one took the man's Cadillac, because it didn't need to to be flipped over. We all waited some more. The air still smelled like fog. The elderly couple with the ruined fence went back into their house.

Tree kept talking, crazy laughing, rubbing the lump on his head, flexing his cut fingers, checking the time on his cell phone. He was late for drill. "I think they'll understand," I said. I just wanted everyone to go away and Tree to stop talking and be still. He kept squirming out of my hugs but I persisted, pressed my cheek against his chest. My eyes finally filled with tears at the realization of what could have happened.

The second tow truck finally came and helped the firefighters flip the Jeep back onto its wheels. Coffee dripped out the broken driver's window. Tree picked up the severed sidemirror and handed it to me. "Souvenir," he said and went to dig his bags out of the back of the Jeep.

We thanked the firefighters, the cops, the tow truck guy, and got into my car. "I have to get to drill," he said. He also wanted a new coffee.

"it's just another thing for me

I just have to wander through this world

alone"

- Pete Yorn "Lose You" -

hold me like this is the last time

Part I

"Nik, wake up! Wake up! Tree was just in an accident and his phone died! Are you awake?"

TD was banging on the door, and groggily, I sat up.

"Wha-"

"I don't know, he just called and said he was in an accident and then his phone went dead. I don't know what happened." He was breathless, still standing outside the closed door.

I don't remember getting out of bed or finding my phone, but then it was in my hand and I was dialing Tree, feeling numb, like that sensation right before you vomit but when you know it's coming. He answered right away, sounding panicky and far away.

"I'm- yeah. I'm ok. I rolled the Jeep. I'm ok."

He told me where he was and hung up. I threw on the jeans I'd worn the day before and a sweatshirt and went out into the living room, where TD was pacing around with a cigarette.

I found my keys and purse. "I don't know what happened, he said he's alright. He's near the clinic I guess." I jammed my feet into my shoes and added, unnecessarily, "I'm going there now." He nodded.

Down the stairs, driveway, into my car, the street. 

All I could think was fuck.

"when I wake up in the morning

and you're beside me..."

- Alicia Keys "Like You'll Never See Me Again" -

I kinda always knew...

MAJOR DRAMA / CRISIS ............ AVERTED! Three cheers to kicking a terrible, waste-of-time habit and getting some self respect back (and amusing the hell out of myself in the process). And a special, no-shit-I-really-mean-it-guys thanks to Angel and my V.I.P. for talking me down off the ledge. 

I feel so much fucking better now that I've said all the things I should have a long time ago. And I'm ok being hated now that I've said my peace - better to be hated than to get a phone call out of the blue 6 months from now, or a surprise visit at work, or an errant email wondering what's up. I don't care what you've been up to. I don't want to be your friend. No, we can't go get coffee. I'm so fucking done with the stupidity and feeling bad about feeling bad about wanting to feel better.

It was really telling yesterday - the bullshit was fucking choking me and I still couldn't bring myself to rage about it. Instead it was just sad and tiring. I just don't fucking care anymore. So go on, pilot a spacecraft to the moon, start cooking meth in your house, discover the cure for lung cancer, go off and die somewhere, whatever, I literally and seriously could give a fuck.

So with the weight finally off my chest, the circle has been closed, and I can't wipe this shit-eating grin off my fucking face.

"we keep repeating mistakes for souvenirs

and we've been in between the days for years"

- No Doubt "Ex-Girlfriend" -

holding the lion's share

Oh wow a busy couple of days. This calls for an update!

- Made an appointment for Tuesday to speak to the peeps at the education office (walk ins, while supposedly accepted, are apparently discouraged)

- Via Tree, spoke with our property manager and found that the owners are indeed still interested in selling; set up a meeting with the property manager for Monday (my gentle and patient Tree will handle this as well... my only contact with her is to scream at/threaten her when something is wrong with the house - Good Cop/Bad Cop seems to be the only way to get her to do things)

- Bought some new fancies for the house and prettied it up during our day off together yesterday (this never happens); worked on the yard a little and made more plans for Easter

- Christened the drum set for Guitar Hero (should have just bought the whole package at once) and scolded the cats for chewing the foot pedal cord in half the day after we bought it. Tree managed to Frankenstein the wires so that it works again but it looks pretty sketchy. Luckily we're getting a free pedal for pre-ordering GH: Metallica, otherwise... I don't know. Otherwise I'd just sulk, I guess.

Something else really fucking bizarre happened to me today, but I'm not ready to post about it - I just don't know how I feel about the whole thing. It's not anything bad, so please don't worry... it's just - weird. I'm going to take a day or so to mull over it and then I'll see what you guys think. :/

---

Also, Googling ex-boyfriends is HILARIOUS.

"I served in the Marine Corps as an Intelligence Specialist ..." Really? Is that what they're calling Air Support Operations Operator now? Cause I'm pretty sure that's what it was called when you were doing it. Before they kicked you out.

I hope LinkedIn allows page owners to see who links to their page (guffaw) !

"no, you can't bring it down cause I'm - "

- Metallica "Better Than You" -

indeed a fool am I

So - 

Recently I've begun to admit to myself that I can't keep riding along with no college degree. It's embarrassing, but here I am, 23 with nothing to show, really. And it's sad, fucking pathetic actually, because I know I have the mental capacity to do it, I just can't seem to do it, do you know what I mean? I do a little research and find a college and program I'm interested in, anxiety mounting, and then when it gets down to it, I freeze up. I have an intense, real, not-even-exaggerating phobia of paperwork. This is not an excuse for anything, it's just a fact. 

And I know it's something I have to do in order to progress any farther, but... ?

Do you want to know why I don't have a Facebook account? The truth is, I did create one. I briefly personalized my account before searching for people I know - and then realized that if people searched for me, I'd have nothing listed below my name but my location. What a subtle way to announce to everyone that I'm an alumni of the University of Nothing. I promptly took down my account.

And though I read a lot - A LOT - and yes, it's good for my vocabulary, and yes, it's enriching and all that - but I still feel wholly inarticulate as much as I do embarrassed. I've tried not once, but twice to obtain a college degree, both times ending in spectacular failure due mostly to my laziness and inability to prioritize.

Sometimes I can't even TALK to people, you know? It frustrates me to not be able to debate, to compete. Would four years of higher education make a difference in that? Who the fuck knows. Maybe I'll learn how to fake it better.

In any case, I spent much of today researching - and my stomach feels like shit and I need a fucking cigarette. I'm not lying. I hate this process. Anyway, I made an account on GoArmyEd and poked around and found a few things. I've already determined that whatever program I end up in MUST BE offered entirely online. Can't and won't do the whole "traditional college experience" again.

So here are a few programs I found (in no order):

Thomas Edison State College, BA in Journalism or BA in Communication

These two degrees are Army Career Degrees, which will take into account and credit my time as a 46Q and apply that toward a degree, based on rank and related courses I've completed. It seems I'd be much better off if I were already an E6 and had completed both phases of BNCOC, but I can't worry about that now. There is a representative from Thomas Edison on McGuire, but I will have to call him TOMORROW to find out where the actual building is so I can go talk to him. 

American Military University, BA in Marketing or BA in Middle Eastern Studies

These two I will talk to the counselors at the Education Office about. AMU doesn't offer a BA (or BS) in Communications, but Marketing would be ok, too. And I'd love to go with Middle Eastern Studies, but realistically, where would that get me? Have to ask the counselor.

Burlington County College, AS in Liberal Arts/Science

Kind of a fall back, I guess, being that its a two year program. BCC is right up the road from Dix so it'd be convenient, although the program is offered entirely online, so it doesn't really matter that it's close. Something else to talk to the counselor about.

I have to will go talk to the folks in the Education Office on Dix this week on Thursday to make sure I'm doing everything the right way.

Until Thursday and until I formally begin this next chapter of my life, I continue to gather knowledge haphazardly and accidently. Today I read two more short stories by John Cheever from the aptly titled, The Stories of John Cheever, read about gonzo journalism and Hunter S. Thompson, watched the most recent episode of The Office online, and learned what a straw man argument is.

All in all, a busy day.

"and I journey through the desert of the mind

with no hope

I follow"

- Queens of the Stone Age "No One Knows" -

can't read my, can't read my

Some random things Wikipedia has recently helped me out with:

Amy Fisher - Andy Warhol - Buddy Jesus - bukkake - clove of garlic - cougar - deus ex machina - Dr. Jekyl - Eastern State Penitentiary - Edgar Allan Poe - feed - Fred Weasley - General Hospital - Graves' Disease - Harlem Globetrotters - harlequin - I Can't Believe It's Not Butter - Ione Skye - Jaws 3 - Juneteenth - Kristen Bell - Kurt Warner - lamaze - Lizzie Bordon - MC Hammer - monkey frog - New Kids on the Block - non-canon - Ohio - Oz - Power Rangers - price fixing - Queens of the Stone Age - quinoa - Rainn Wilson - Riesling - ShamWow! - spinal bifida - Tay-Sachs disease - tzatziki - underground - ulna - Veronica Mars - voyeur - WB - When Harry Met Sally- Yehe Nara - yuppie - Zodiac Killer

Thankfully Tree's MacBook saves all the form entries on Wikipedia, allowing me to be reminded of how embarrassing I am.

"check this hand, cause I'm marvelous"

- Lady GaGa "Poker Face" -

if you want to be a hero, well just follow me

Easter at the Blue House

April 12, 2009

Appetizers

--------------------

Stuffed Mushrooms

Something Else Cool

Main Course

--------------------

Slaughtered Pig = :(

General Tso's Tofu = :)

Sides

--------------------

Colcannon

Boring Mashed Potatoes For People Who Hate Colcannon

Green Bean Casserole

Roasted Sweet Potatoes

Acorn Squash

Something With Carrots

Irish Soda Bread

Dessert

--------------------

Janine's Famous Lady Finger Cake

Assorted Cookies / Brownies

Something Else Cool, With Chocolate

Beverages

--------------------

Apple Juice

Soy Milk

Diet Coke

Sam Adams Boston Lager

Magic Hat #9

Malibu Bay Breeze

Or, BYOB

- John Lennon "Working Class Hero" -

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" -

why worry when it's warm over here?

I just watched an episode of Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares by accident, thinking it was Kitchen Nightmares (same chef, different country) and not realizing the channel was BBC America and not one of the FOX channels we get (I think we get more than one? I'm no good with the tv). 

Wow, what a difference! Tree likes Gordon Ramsay, so we periodically watch Kitchen Nightmares and weekly watch Hell's Kitchen. In both of those (US) shows, Ramsay throws plates of food, mercilessly insults participants, and screams obscenities at everyone. About a quarter of what he says is masked by a beep. 

But in the UK version of Kitchen Nightmares, he's almost pleasant. He still drops an f-bomb here and there, but he's more willing to listen to and actually help his fellow chefs and restaurant owners, and he's much more forgiving with the waitstaff. He didn't call anyone a failure, didn't throw anyone out of the kitchen. In the episode I watched tonight, he circulated through the dining room, personally handing out comment cards to the patrons. In the US version and in Hell's Kitchen, he's rarely not raging in someone's face, let alone interacting with the patrons.

What does this say about US vs UK culture? Is it that (aspiring) American chefs are more dimwitted and therefore more deserving of having food thrown at them when a customer sends it back? Or is it that Ramsay has to be more over the top, more obscene, more shocking, in order to satisfy the American audience? 

After the show, World News came on BBC America and I watched a little and felt sad. It made me think of BBC International, which was shown 24 hours a day on a huge television directly in front of my desk in Baghdad. Of all the 24-hour news channels we monitored (Pentagon News Channel, FOX, CNN, Al Jazeera English, CNN International, BBC-I, and Sky News) BBC-I was my favorite. They'd do longer pieces than the others, and I enjoyed watching the features that focused more on telling the story rather than jamming as much information as possible between commercials. I miss BBC-I, among other things...

"you've got so much to say,

say what you mean

mean what you're thinking

and think anything"

- Cat Stevens "Can't Keep It In" -