I kind of want to make that boss some cookies

I hadn't posted about this yet, but K and I have been waiting the last few months to find out where we're supposed to be going next. So many things are riding on this information -- the biggest being when we start a family and what I do about my job.

When K took this assignment, we knew it was only for two years.

We were originally supposed to hear something about the next move in November, which (in true military style) turned into "at the first of the year" ... which also came and went with no news.

But last week, one of K's bosses offered to make a call. He talked with K first about what he wants out of his career and where he'd like to go. He told K he'd call the branch that decides who goes where (I call them the magic wizards. I picture them being something like in The Wizard of Oz, hanging out behind a huge curtain ... except these guys really are doing wizardry of telling everyone in the Army who goes where based on a formula that includes rank, each post's needs, supposedly each person's preferences for where they'd like to go, and who knows what else).

Anyway, just an hour after K finished talking with this boss -- who used to be in charge of a portion of the Magic Wizard branch -- he had his list.

The list is awesome.

The No. 1 place we'd like to go (along with everyone else in the Army) is Colorado. And two of the three possibilities on the list include CO.

The third option is to stay right here in VA. We really love it here, and we'd like to be able to stay another year.

Obviously what's most important is doing what's best for K's career, though. He's going to talk to the boss one more time next week before making a decision.

Once that's done, all the planning can begin!

Fuck you, cancer

I lost a classmate on Friday. She died of lung cancer. On her 30th birthday.

Meg was a beautiful girl, one of those people who just glows. She was always smiling. In high school, she was on the drill team. She was in track. She was active and healthy. She didn't smoke. Her family members didn't smoke. Meg and her husband had their first child early last summer, just weeks before she found out she had stage 4 lung cancer.

Because she was two grades ahead of me, I didn't know Meg well, but I knew her brother. He was in my class, and I've known him since the first grade. I can't begin to imagine what he's going through.

The whole thing is just so terrible. It makes you think. It makes you angry.

No one that young -- that young and that healthy -- should die from cancer.

But Meg is the 3rd person I went to high school with to die from cancer. The others were 22 and 28.

I found out today that another classmate was recently diagnosed. Hers was found early, so she has a 94% chance of beating it. She is 31.

There was cancer in our past, too. A girl in my fifth grade class was diagnosed with cancer. Another girl in the class below me had lymphoma in junior high. They both survived. 

My hometown is small. I graduated with 175 people. The other classes were that size too.

Which makes the number of my classmates who have had cancer all the more upsetting.

Being rational blows

I want to do something irrational.

Dump water over my head
fuck up my hair
throw something out the window.

scream.
loudly.

storm out of the building.

kick the wall.

rip phone out of annoying coworker's hand if she says "mhmm" one more fucking time.

quit.
my.
job.

but what will I do with all that free time?

how will I pay bills?

so here I sit ... raging inside.

i really think i hate this place.

Left Out

Being left out sucks. Nobody likes it.

It used to happen to me all the time in high school. My “friends” had this habit of doing things without inviting me – and then laughing about inside jokes that came out of those gatherings in front of me.

Since I know how crappy it feels, I’ve always made an effort to not make people feel left out. I don’t bring up activities that a present party isn’t invited to, and I even try to explain the gist of inside jokes if the number of people who don’t get it is anywhere close to the number of people who do.

Honestly, my hatred of feeling left out might be to blame for my feelings about Valentine’s Day. Feb. 14 is the ultimate left out day because more often than not, the ones who care about it most are the ones who feel like they don’t have anyone to celebrate it with. How crappy is that?  

You know what else is crappy? I’ve recently found myself in that same effing situation my high school “friends” put me in.

K and I have people over to the house all the time. For game nights, for potluck dinners, for watch parties … We typically wind up with 10 people, sometimes closer to 20. But we always invite everyone from our kickball team.

Many of the girls on our team watch The Bachelor. I do not. However, I went to a watch party for the show last year just to get some good girl time. I love me some girl time. So much that I’ll even put up with a craptastic show like The Bachelor just to get it.

Last year, it was a small group of three who watched the show each week. This year, it’s a big group. I’m not quite sure how big, though, because I wasn’t invited. I do know there’s a final pick pool involved (which is totally the way to make me semi-enjoy the show!), and every girl I know goes. It’s come up in conversation the last few times I’ve been in a group setting with more than one girl in The Bachelor Group. Which sucks.

It really hurts my feelings.

It came up yesterday when K and I went to watch some of our kickball friends play in another league. The semi-boyfriend of one of The Bachelor girls said, “Oh, so this is the group who watches The Bachelor.” The girl, who is one of my closest friends here and I regularly have lunch dates with, said, “Oh, no, MLIB hates The Bachelor.”

That may be true, but I’d love the opportunity to make the decision myself. Had I had that chance, I’d probably have joined. Weekly girl time and a glass of wine? Who would turn that down?

I was really upset about the whole thing yesterday, and I had mentioned it to K a few times. He told me I should talk to the organizer (I’m not even sure which girl that is) and find out why I wasn’t invited.

Only I’m not sure that’s fair. I mean, it’s their right to do whatever they want, and they can invite whoever they want. It would be nice if they didn’t talk about it so openly so I’d find out about it (again and again), but I guess that’s just life.

My feelings are justified, but that doesn’t mean they owe me an explanation or even an apology for not inviting me.

K felt differently. He told me if I wasn’t going to ask the girls about it, he didn’t want to hear about it anymore. When I told him I felt like that was unfair, he opened up. He agrees that it’s crap, and he actually thinks they owe it to me to invite me. As many parties and gatherings as we’ve had; as much beer, snacks, and alcohol as they’ve had at our house … He says we’ve invested in these friendships, and it’s not right for them to not invite me.

I see what he’s saying, but I disagree that they owe us anything. We choose to invite them to our house. We choose to share food and drinks (everyone brings a little something, but we have our kegerator). But we can’t do that with any expectations.

So I’m stuck. I hate drama, and I definitely don’t want to start anything unnecessarily. But at the same time, I think it’s rude for them to talk about this group when others who aren’t a part of it are around.

I swear, this is why I quit hanging out with girls in college!

I AM BURNT OUT

I needed to say that to someone. Anyone.

Well, anyone but my boss. Although I might just tell her too.

I'm also underpaid, which makes the burnt out feeling harder to want to fix.

Le sigh.