I am poison crazy lush

Had a weird/bad dream(s) last night... one person and two animals died. I won't name the individual in case by some weird way I jinx her, but she is an old friend from high school who I have only seen sporadically since then. If you are reading this and wondering if I am talking about you, I'm not. I doubt she knows this blog exists.

Anyway, I was informed of her death over the phone. When I called a mutual friend of ours to let her know, she didn't seem surprised that [redacted] had died. "Oh yeah, she was really sick. They didn't expect her to make it." All nonchalant.

Later, in the same dream or the next, my dog Jake died (he's been dead in real life for a few years now - two?). I was at my parents' house but only my mother was home. She asked me to help her bury him, so I did. We dug a hole out by the garden, but by hand, not with shovels. The soil was really loose though, so digging wasn't a problem. Also the soil was a pleasant (but unusual) red, but not like from blood or anything, more like the color of red velvet cake.

We finished up and went back into the house - and found that one of my cats had died as well (unlike dear Jake, both my cats are alive in real life), and evidently whomever found him (this was unclear in the dream) decided to store him in the fridge. In a plastic grocery bag. And he was in pieces (why???). So back to the garden to dig another (dismembered-cat-sized) grave. I cried as I placed the beige plastic bag into the little hole, and then we covered him with velvety red dirt.

I woke up sweaty with a tight throat.

So anyway, now I am enjoying a cup of tea (my second one today) and watching the rain out on the lake. You know those moments you wish you could bottle and save for another time? What a bizarre, bizarre day.

"I've got my own time;

got it all today"

- Bush "Greedy Fly" -

thought you had all the answers to rest your heart upon

Sunday: Family Guy

Monday: House

Tuesday: American Idol

Wednesday: American Idol

Thursday: Hell's Kitchen / The Office

Friday/Saturday: (stare at each other bleakly)

...

Today I was outside on the back deck smoking a cigarette, talking to my parents, when my wedding ring fell off and slipped between the boards. 30 minutes and a broken coat hanger, a chopstick, some electrical tape, and a bread-tie later - SUCCESS! My ring was safely back on my hand and the universe was set right.

Ok, so it wasn't my *real* wedding ring that fell, it was the shitty one I took to Iraq with me (in case I died and some shifty medic swiped it) but still! Pretty traumatizing. 

Luckily my parents were there on the phone to talk me down from the crisis: "Bend a paper clip!" (none in the house) "Use a bobby pin!" (haven't owned a bobby pin since high school) "Piano wire!" (wtf?)

So now I feel like fucking MacGyver. Rock on.

"well you can pin yourself back together,

to who you thought you were"

- Bird York "In The Deep" -

now I'm bored and old

The most magical moment of my life:

Tree and I went to NYC for Valentine's Day to see Wicked (it was beyond fucking amazing) and wandered around the city for a few hours before the show. We stopped in Central Park and walked through the vastness, checking out (and mocking) statues. [If you've seen my MySpace photos, you've seen some of my work.]

So I was standing checking out a bust of Beethoven, trying to decide whether I should jump the fence surrounding him to get a photo mocking his stern expression (there were a lot of people at the park and I didn't want to get us kicked out) when a squirrel crept up to my left. As I watched with a held breath, he lept up on to the fence and tightroped over to me - and LICKED my fucking HAND. A wild forest animal. Licked. My hand. Itlikedmyhand! Like I was Snow fucking White or some shit! The Squirrel Whisperer? Yes? No?

Do you see? Magical! My heart nearly exploded! Smiley face!

[This is unrelated:]

And, in an ongoing love-hate hate-hate relationship with MySpace, they removed the links to this blog from my page, instead sending clickers to a screen warning them that this blog is (a) phishing for their credit card numbers or (b) spam, or both. I kind of take offense to this. Did someone from MySpace actually go and LOOK at this blog? Maybe they saw my post describing how much they suck and decided to take up arms against me. Ha... you underestimate me, dear naive social-networking site. Mark my words, MySpace fucks, you haven't seen the last of me.

By the way, they never did take down the ads calling me a giant fatass.

"I just want you to know that I

don't hate you anymore"

- Nirvana "Serve the Servants" -

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 somewhat golden like the afternoons we used to spend before you got too cool

Have not had much to blog about lately, but I hate waiting a long time between posts and then have to type one of those horrid update lists.

Anyway.

I am now exactly (as of yesterday) 6 months into my tour with First Army. I'm now in the narrow window in which a decision needs to be made: do I stay here and continue this thankless mission, or do I move on? I've always believed a door will open when I need it, and I have faith that if I decide to move on from this mission, there will be something else for me. But what? Whenever is the devil you don't know better than the devil you know? Remember when I was looking forward to THIS job??

I'll keep you informed, faithful readers, but I've all but made up my mind already...

You ready for a mindfuck? - I've been home from Iraq 8 months yesterday. EIGHT MONTHS. Iraq used to hang on my lips, wrap around my shoulders, hold my hand - for a time (wasn't it always?), Iraq defined me. I was significant because of Iraq. Do you see that? I was superior because I was there, and all my sarcasm, my mood swings, my snootiness, my dark humor, everything was justified because I was in fucking Baghdad. Now I'm nothing, a regular worthless human. Now it feels a little like a dream. 

...Tell me, why does that depress me?

...

Also - if you hate me for whatever reason I don't understand, if you don't want to talk to me anymore, if you're so caught up in fixing your life that you couldn't possibly have me be a part of it (lest I mess it up like before, right?), please just let me know. Trust me, that will be a million times easier than to hear, "my phone is fucked up" or "our internet got shut off" or whatever. There are no other phones in the greater United States? I think my head just might explode.

"but when I say let's keep in touch

I really mean I wish that you'd grow up"

- Brand New "Mix Tape" -

when are you gonna come down? when are you going to land?

So all the planets aligned to create a pretty good weekend. Saturday Tree had to work during the day so I just puttered around the house - cleaned a bit, organized some things in the bedroom, baked cookies - until he got home.

It'd been, like, forever since we'd been out to eat in a real restaurant, so Saturday night we both got dressed up (peeptoes and my new chic blazer) and went to Jester's out in Bordentown. So nice! There was a jazz duo there, and while we had to sit a little closer to the music than I would have liked, it was very cosmopolitan and very classy. I ordered a Flip Flop to drink. It was delicious.

Today we spent the day working through the house - would you believe that there are STILL boxes we haven't touched since we moved in? But we cleared a number of them and readied another big box to be brought back to Mass for the Salvation Army. We also hung up a few pictures (Tree had been complaining how spartan the walls were) and played with the cats for a while. I managed to get two loads of laundry done, too.

And, today, this:

Yes, that is a person on a dirtbike, riding on the fucking LAKE. True, the temperature hovered just around freezing today, but yesterday it was in the 50s. Can you see in the picture how thin and transparent the ice is? And did I mention he's on a dirtbike? ON A LAKE??

Also, just made plans for Valentine's Day:

Those things cost more than I will admit here, but I've been wanting to go see Wicked for FOREVER - so how could I say no to the 4th fucking row?? I'm superfuckingexcited to go.

So that'll be Blue Man Group for Christmas, and now Wicked for Valentines Day. Perfect perfect perfect. 

:D

"I should have stayed on the farm

I should have listened to my old man"

- Elton John "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" -

I found a dream that I could speak to

Home alone, tv is on (another House rerun), laundry in the dryer, two sleeping cats on the couch, an empty bowl of soup and a glass of apple juice.

I hate this big empty house.

...

Today was productive. I worked out at the Air Force gym, picked up the [redacted], redispatched the GSA, helped the LT work on my NCOER, mailed a card for her, researched MND-N for the next MRX (in February!), started rewriting scenarios. I'm excited! The NCOER reminded me that I'll be promoted in the next few months (I WILL) and gave a little wind to my sails. And rewriting the scenarios (and incorporating suggestions from past AARs) made me feel organized and efficient; I'm three weeks ahead of myself!

Staying busy staying busy staying busy...

...

I'm still feeling crappy about letting the PAOC deployment go, but I think it's for the best. Don't you think so too? I have this little house to take care of, two little cats to take care of, a little husband to take care of. Surely this little life would just rip apart if I were to leave, so that's why I'm staying for now... right?      Right??

"at last, my love has come along

my lonely days are over

and life is like a song"

- Etta James "At Last" -

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" -

wear them apple bottoms, wear them apple bottoms honey

Did you know that I'm a bit of a voyeur? Not in the creepy, watch-you-through-a-window-while-I-masturbate kind of way, but in terms of obsessively observing the mundane. I spend hours, hours a day surfing through blogs of people I don't know, reading about their trips to the grocery store and their kid's birthday party. I smile at funny conversations they had at work and grimace at arguments they had with their spouse. I look at pictures of their scrapbooking projects and watch videos of their cat making faces. Do you have a blog? I probably spy on you.

Heh.

Now that I've thoroughly creeped you out...

Dinner last night was excellent: tofu dogs w/veggie cheese (nondairy, but you'd never know the difference!) and sweet potato fries. Tree and I eat a lot of sweet potatoes, which is still weird to me. When I was a kid and had never tried them, I always though 'yams' were the most disgusting thing on the planet. I still don't like the word. Yams. Yams. Gross...

It's bad, though... the more time I spend online looking at horrible PETA photos, the closer I get to a vegan diet. And I don't want that; it's hard enough going out to eat or eating at other people's houses as a vegetarian. While I love what I am doing and am 100% behind the reasons for going meatless... sometimes I wish... I never did. Every single meal is a production. And I suppose this will get easier in time; I've only been here away from DFACs for 6 months, and only living with a kitchen for the last 2. So maybe once we get used to it... but I tell you, I can only eat so many veggie dogs/burgers before the sight of them make me want to puke.

I should probably go do something. It's like 4:30 and I haven't done shit today. Tree is gonna be so pissed.

"shorty don't fake, she'll put it in your face"

- Flo Rida "Elevator" -

have another drink and drive yourself home

Update Medley:

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

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

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

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

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

One small rotten spot on the day:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And now, time for a (stiff) drink.

"as if it happening wasn't enough

I got to go and write a song

to remind myself how bad it sucked"

- Brand New "Seventy Times 7" -

I was certain that the season could be held between my arms

I did it. I told the PAOC I can't deploy with them. It's all over.

He said:

Don't apologize. I understand completely... in fact, we had already come to the realization that it would not be easy to have you join us. We do however thank you deeply for wanting to come here and join us. I will pass the message to [the commander] and the rest of the unit. Good luck... and take care of all those PA units that come through Fort Dix. We all appreciate your dedication and professionalism.

Now please, leave me alone for awhile. I need time to cry.

"hand out the window

floating on air

just a flip of the wrist and I'm waving you goodbye"

- Dashboard Confessional "So Long, So Long" -

and think about the times you spent and what they meant

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

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

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

- fake scenarios (press releases, response to query)

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

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

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

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

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

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

and mow down any bullshit that confronts you?"

- Green Day "Having a Blast" -

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

Dear [redacted],

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love and kisses,

Malibu Niki

(deep breath)

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

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

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

- Social Distortion "Far Behind" -

I'll tell you now I keep on and on

A few miscellaneous updates I've been meaning to incorporate into past entries but either couldn't or forgot about:

- The roof guys came back the other day for Act 3 of the charming musical Our New Roof. They pulled up the shingles or whatever around the skylights, then removed the skylights, then put plywood over the now gaping holes in the roof. Awesome. In fairness, they are supposed to come back and put new skylights in, but then again, when they were leaving the last time, they said they'd be back to put in said new skylights TODAY. They didn't come today.

- My nails still have not recovered from the acrylics I had on for my class reunion last month. I got this nail protein and... nah, you don't really care about this.

- MySpace wrote back, did I tell you? I'd asked why their ads continually accuse me of having a fat ass. They thanked me for my concern and assured me that my feedback was appreciated. Also:

When we add new services and features to our site, we consider the suggestions and comments we've received from MySpace Friends [that's a proper noun?] like you. So be on the lookout! Your suggestion may be the next new and popular feature or service on MySpace [I rather doubt it].

- When Tree and I last traveled back to Massachusetts, my mother gave me a few loaves of stale-ish bread to feed to the (wild) geese (and ducks) on the lake. So the other day (day before yesterday?) it was kind of slushy-snowing out and some ducks were floating by, so I though, Hey, they'd probably like a nice little treat in this storm, right? Wrong. By the time I got down to the dock they'd hurried almost clear across to the other shore and didn't have any intentions of coming back. I threw some bread out into the water and called to them in their native tongue (Get back here you fucking ducks!) and nothing. Bastards.

- No "real" update to report, but continuing to work with the PAOC to get this deployment-creature born. What's that sound they teach you in Lamaze? Hee-hee-hee-whooooooooo.

"so while you sit back and wonder why

I got this fuckin' thorn in my side"

- Beastie Boys "Sabotage" -

to get my fair share of abuse

Last night, New Year's Eve, and instead of cheerfully enjoying the festivities in front of the fire, I'm alternating between the blogsphere and trying to get my husband to dance with me and/or refill my glass...

...because I'm charmingly swigging back this crappy Riesling from a DRINKING GLASS, and worse, WITH ICE. Classy. A stemmed glass? No thanks. I'd only end up knocking it over and wasting all that wine.

I did end up hoisting my ass up off the couch long enough to dance with myself (husband wasn't having any of it), attack one of the cats, and stumble, naked, into bed. I'd stayed up that late only to satisfy my morbid curiosity - will they put Dick Clark's corpse on tv again this year? I was rewarded.

Woke up this morning around 11 to an empty house. Vaguely remember Tree kissing me before he left for work, could have imagined it, I don't know.

Now it's after 2 and I think my stomach is settled enough for me to eat something. So far I've managed only a handful of Tootsie Rolls. I think there's some General Tso's Tofu left over from last night.

My life rocks.

"you can't always get what you want

but if you try sometimes, you just might find

you get what you need"

- The Rolling Stones "You Can't Always Get What You Want"-

but I'm not gonna let 'em catch me, no

If I were one of those people who made New Year's resolutions, these are what they would be (now with pictures!):

1. Recycle more (read: recycle period)

2. Finally learn how to sew (and make a quilt out of our old t shirts)

3. Volunteer at the animal shelter near my house (how hard is it to walk a dog or play with some cats?)

4. Ease up on the alcohol (actually maybe I'll start this one next week...)

"...and the road goes on forever

and I've got one more silver dollar..."

- Allman Brothers "Midnight Rider" -

UPDATE: give me back my point of view

An update to give me back my point of view:

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

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

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

My emailed response, in part:

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

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

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

Anyway, he wrote back:

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

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

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

I wrote back:

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

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

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

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

Anyway, wanted to share that.

Exhausted, and going to bed.

the girl got reasons; they all got reasons

The holiday... didn't end up being that bad, actually. A brief rundown of the festivities:

24. made the insanely horrible pre-holiday drive back to Massachusetts with the husbo. SEVEN HOURS LATER we arrived at his mother's house. There we all had a little informal dinner-thing (she thoughtfully made veggie lasagna especially for me) and exchanged presents. Afterward, we stopped for a short visit at my parents' house to do presents, then drove to Tree's dad's house and promptly fell asleep. Alcohol units consumed: two

25. had a really nice breakfast spread courtesy of Tree and his dad. Exchanged presents with his dad and brother, then went to my parents' house (again, and with Tree's dad) for food. My sister and her bf came to eat as well and we all had a (surprisingly) enjoyable time. Ate, hung out, stuffed ourselves full of my mom's infamous lady finger cake. Mmmm. Alcohol units consumed: four

26. recovered in the morning and spent a few hours with Coug midday. Then Tree and I drove to Worcester to meet up with Angel and her son - checked out their new (to me, as I'd never seen it) apartment and then onward to Boston for Blue Man Group. Greatest. Idea. Ever. So much fun!! It is how I imagine being on acid must be like. Love. After the show, we searched for the elusive Hard Rock Cafe and (finally) found the damn place. Bought a new pin. Got home after midnight. Awesome. Alcohol units consumed: three

27. the day of two birthdays: my sister and Tree. We'd all (Tree, me, my sister and her bf, my mom and dad, Tree's dad, his mom and her bf and his two kids, Tree's brother and his gf) decided to merge the events into one, so we met at 5:30 and ate locally. My parents and Tree's dad are swiftly becoming actual friends and not just people stuck with each other because of their kids, and I love that. Friends = kick ass. Alcohol units consumed: three

28. showered, packed, said good bye to everyone, left around noon. SEVEN HOURS LATER (again) we got back to New Jersey, and, you guessed it, promptly fell asleep. Alcohol units consumed: zero

In related news, I need to dry out...

"don't turn away, what are you looking at?

he was so happy on the day that he met her"

- Stone Temple Pilots "Sour Girl" -

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" -

when I wear it I feel cute

Yeah...

I, evidently, like stuff that white people like.

I came across the blog in the usual way: linkhopping through blogger profiles until something catches my eye. So I scanned the first page, somewhat interested but skeptical ("This site will probably be lame and not relevant to me because I'm not 'white' the way white people are 'white.'"). After a couple minutes of scanning and becoming increasingly concerned, I clicked on the master list of Stuff. Of the 115 specific things white people like, I enjoy 45 (I didn't count some of the general things, like t-shirts and bottles of water). But those 45 things are big, significant things.

In particular, a few creepily personal references: Farmer's Markets, Tea, Microbreweries, David Sedaris (!), Vegan/Vegetarianism, Breakfast Places, Public Radio, Living by the Water (yikes), Toyota Prius (ok, what the fuck), Scarves, Pea Coats, and Hummus.

It was like someone looked into my soul. And found a yuppie.

Fuck! I AM white!

"I like boys with strong convictions

and convicts with perfect diction"

-Kimya Dawson "So Nice So Smart" -