Guess who got busy again? And guess who's doing another one of those giant catch-up posts with headers?
Guess I should've been more specific
K and I tried the whole webcam thing again Monday night. I was sure to leave the gym by 9:30 so I'd have plenty of time to get home and maybe even shower before talking to K online. A few minutes before 10, I was at my computer logging on. I turned up my speakers and busied myself with watching The Hills (thank goodness Spencer & Heidi are finally OVER!) while I waited for him to log on.
K signed on at about 10:20. We started trying to connect with our webcams. It was exciting when I could actually hear him and another one of our friends who was in the room with him. I couldn't believe it -- this was actually working!
For a few seconds, anyway. The audio started doing this weird thing where it was skipping every few syllables of K's and repeating a few others. The result sounded like a rap song. When the video actually came up, it was exciting to see K.
And then I realized how bad the video was. Parts of the screen were getting jumbled from the delay of K's not-so-quick Internet connection.
We tried Sky.pe and W!ndows L!ve Me.ssenger. WLM seemed to be the better of the two for us, but it was still frustrating.
The other nights of the week
Reread the above mini-post, but be sure to add @Ol to it as well. We definitely tried all of them many, many times.
We tried using just video. We tried using just the microphones. We tried using the webcam and the microphones at the same time. We did all of that on each messenger service. And each time, after about an hour of trying, we gave up and just went back to typing.
Last night, we realized K can hear and see me clearly and with no problem, so we used the microphones and allowed just my webcam. It was still hard to hear K with the delay, but it was too good to hear each other's voices to fully switch to regular old-fashioned IM.
The first care packages/It's a good thing she's so cute
I got an email from K's FRG (f@mily readiness group -- they keep families informed and serve as a support system while the soldiers are gone) telling us we're finally cleared to send care packages over. Because K's battery had classes and training in other areas before getting to their final base, their address wasn't registered until Tuesday.
This meant that the night I got the email, I stayed home from the gym and got packages ready to send to K. We originally weren't supposed to be able to send anything until this weekend, so I had thought I had more time. I had put some things K wanted me to send him (his Wii, Guitar Hero, some socks & undershirts that I had washed for him, since they were dirty when he left) in boxes, but I still had things to add with them. I had to write a letter to go with the boxes, and I had to put some goodies in there for him, too, so he would feel loved.
One thing about K is that many Tuesdays each year find him at the store buying new movie releases. Last Tuesday is one I know was waiting for: the release of The Bourne Ultimatum (AWESOME movie!). I bought the limited-edition version, just like K would have, but I converted it to an .mp4 so he could put it on his iPod and so I could burn it to a DVD. That way, if the DVD gets lost, scratched, or borrowed and not returned, it won't be a big deal.
Piper was sitting on my bed and had realized she could see her reflection in my bathroom mirror, which was down a short hallway several feet away. She was barking and growling at herself, and I was laughing at her for being such an idiot.
I went back to my computer to finish burning the DVD. I turned to look at Piper and immediately stopped laughing when I saw she was peeing on my bed. I guess she really felt threatened by the strange dog she was growling at. Stupid dog.
I was up until almost 3 that night, thanks in part to the new loads of laundry I had to do because of Piper. I had just changed my sheets the night before, so I hadn't washed the other set yet.
I went to the post office the next morning to mail all the packages. There were four. K should feel loved by that. I'm sending him another one Monday morning. This one will be a "real" care package, though, with things I make and buy for him instead of things he needed me to send because he couldn't fit them in with everything he had to pack for the deployment.
And now for the weekend plans
As I type this, all three of my roommates from my senior year are on their way here. They're coming to spend the weekend with me, and I'm really excited. The four of us don't all get to hang out very often, so we always have a blast when we do.
But two of them have never been to my apartment. And because I think it's necessary for my entire apartment to be absolutely spotless when people see it for the first (and second, and third) time, I have got to get back to my organizing and cleaning.
I only blogged tonight because I was inches away from my computer, shredding old checks that were taking up room in a shoe box in my closet. Clearly, they have to be disposed of tonight. If the girls happen to look in my closet now, they'll be jealous of how orderly and nice everything is. It's amazing how much room a shoebox can take up!
Friday, December 14, 2007
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
At least I got to see him!
Remember those webcams K and I got each other for Christmas? Well, now that he's finally able to get things settled in his own room, we're able to use them. We talked for a little bit on IM early this afternoon and planned a time that we would both be able to log on and use them for the first time -- 10 p.m. for me (7 a.m. tomorrow for him).
I was at my computer at 9:30 logging on to two different instant messengers so I'd be sure to catch him as soon as he signed on. He logged on shortly after 10:15. As soon as I heard the alert that he'd signed on, I ran to my computer to talk to him, eager to use the webcam.
I got a message that he was trying to connect the video call with me. I accepted and waited as patiently as I could for his webcam image to pop up. He told me I was up on his screen, but it took another try before he showed up on mine.
But suddenly, there he was.
We tried talking (our webcams have built-in microphones), but no such luck. Neither of us heard a thing. We each checked the volume of our microphones and our speakers, but we still heard nothing.
It was disappointing to have technical difficulties get in the way, but it was good to see him. For the first few minutes I was able to see him, though, he looked stressed and tired. He was putting his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes and running his hand over his head. He told me he already had some soldier drama he was going to have to brief the colonel about. It was hard to see him so stressed.
But after we finally gave up hope on troubleshooting our microphones and just enjoyed chatting online and being able to see each other, he was right back to the regular old K, showing that same smile and the facial expressions I have absolutely fallen in love with over the last two-and-a-half years.
We talked for about 30 minutes before he had to sign off. I'm still disappointed we weren't able to get the microphones working, but it was so, so nice to be able to see each other through the webcams. When we get everything working properly, it'll be absolutely amazing!
I was at my computer at 9:30 logging on to two different instant messengers so I'd be sure to catch him as soon as he signed on. He logged on shortly after 10:15. As soon as I heard the alert that he'd signed on, I ran to my computer to talk to him, eager to use the webcam.
I got a message that he was trying to connect the video call with me. I accepted and waited as patiently as I could for his webcam image to pop up. He told me I was up on his screen, but it took another try before he showed up on mine.
But suddenly, there he was.
We tried talking (our webcams have built-in microphones), but no such luck. Neither of us heard a thing. We each checked the volume of our microphones and our speakers, but we still heard nothing.
It was disappointing to have technical difficulties get in the way, but it was good to see him. For the first few minutes I was able to see him, though, he looked stressed and tired. He was putting his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes and running his hand over his head. He told me he already had some soldier drama he was going to have to brief the colonel about. It was hard to see him so stressed.
But after we finally gave up hope on troubleshooting our microphones and just enjoyed chatting online and being able to see each other, he was right back to the regular old K, showing that same smile and the facial expressions I have absolutely fallen in love with over the last two-and-a-half years.
We talked for about 30 minutes before he had to sign off. I'm still disappointed we weren't able to get the microphones working, but it was so, so nice to be able to see each other through the webcams. When we get everything working properly, it'll be absolutely amazing!
Monday, December 10, 2007
Me too!
I saw this today on Po$tsecret. I hope 27 years from now, K and I (and our children) can say the same thing.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Hard Sunday
Yesterday, it was about 80 degrees in Dallas. Today, it was around 40. It was raining or drizzling through much of the morning. When I left for church, I was in the mood to hear some slower songs. The radio wasn't quite fitting my mood, so I turned to my CDs to listen to Ca.rrie Und.erwood. Instead of either of her albums, though, it was How.ie Da.y who came up on my CD changer. I love that album, and I hadn't listened to it in a long time, so I didn't change the music.
That album, though, is one that makes me think of K. It's pretty much our CD, really. The first time he came to visit me in Dallas, he showed up at my doorstep with three yellow roses (since yellow's my favorite color) and three CDs, one of which was How.ie Da.y. It actually turned out to be my favorite CD. Since that day in July 2005, we've listened to it many times together.
So hearing it this morning was a little sad. It made me miss K, but I was doing OK. I was a little teary-eyed a couple times, but not enough to make me switch to another CD.
I got to church, ready to be uplifted by a great Christmas-y sermon. Instead, I listened to a choir singing slow songs in minor keys, and the sermon was about darkness: how dark the world is today (the Om@ha shootings were brought up, as were a few others from the past), how it's the darkest time of the year and how we're even approaching the shortest day of the year. Honestly, I can't even remember the point of the whole sermon. I was too busy trying not to cry during it because instead of being uplifted, I was being reminded of more sad things. Awesome.
When the sermon finished, the choir sang another slow, minor-key song. At that point, I cried out, "Gah!" in frustration and dropped my little church program on the pew in frustration. ER, who was sitting beside me, asked me what was wrong. I told her how I had been sad to begin with, and how the depressing music and sermon about darkness had not helped the situation. As I explained those things to her, I started crying.
"Great, now my eyes are going to be red."
I had successfully fought off the tears earlier in church, so I tried to get them to stop again. This time, though, no luck. I was more frustrated by the fact that I hadn't been able to get my hair to cooperate that morning, so I'd had to pull it back. And I was wearing heels. Which meant I was towering above everyone, and I couldn't hide behind my hair.
ER got up to take Communion, and I stayed in the pew like I always do. While she was up, I looked at my phone, which had been on vibrate. I had three missed calls and a new voice message. I could tell by the weird number that it was K. The fact he had left a voice message probably meant he was telling me he'd just give me a call the next day. Obviously that didn't help me stop crying.
By the time ER joined me again at the pew, I wiped my eyes and realized my fingers were turning black. "Great, my mascara is running now," I said to ER. It's hard enough to mask the fact you're crying when your eyes are red and your face looks like a punching bag without adding the black streaks all over your face.
"Do you want to leave?" ER asked. I admitted I did, and we got up and quickly left the church. Luckily, our exit was timed perfectly with the people getting up for Communion at the back rows of the church. All we missed was singing the last hymn as the pastors and readers left the room.
We went straight to ER's car, and I checked my voice message from K. He said, "I just realized you're probably in church, so I'll call you in about a half-hour. Don't be upset." That part made me smile. ER had pointed out that it was neat that at the point I had started crying was the same time as he had called. "At the same time you were really thinking about him, he was thinking about you," she said.
We headed to the mall for a nice little distraction. I was able to cross another present off my list of Christmas gifts after a quick trip to Bath & Body Works. ER and I spent the rest of the time just looking around and chatting. It was nice and relaxing.
K called me back while we were still there, and I was able to talk to him for more than 20 minutes. He's doing well. He's finally in the area where he is supposed to spend the deployment. He said it's really nice. There's no St@rbucks like at the last base he was at, but K's not a big St@rbucks guy anyway. They do have a nice little coffee shop and a mall with some local stores in it.
K has his own room with a twin-sized bed, a couch, a computer desk and a locker for a closet. He says it's a lot like a dorm room setup. He's going to send my pictures of it. The commander of the battery whose place K's battery is taking gave K his TV, so he'll have that too. It makes me happy to know he'll be as comfortable as possible in the place he'll be living for the next 15 months.
After mall time with ER and especially after the phone call from K, my day got much better. I know there will be rough times through this deployment. Today was my first one, really (You can't count the day they leave. It's impossible for that one to be easy.). I'm happy to say this one only lasted for a couple hours. I know there will be more, but it's good to know that not only do they not have to ruin my entire day, but I don't have to go through them alone, either.
That album, though, is one that makes me think of K. It's pretty much our CD, really. The first time he came to visit me in Dallas, he showed up at my doorstep with three yellow roses (since yellow's my favorite color) and three CDs, one of which was How.ie Da.y. It actually turned out to be my favorite CD. Since that day in July 2005, we've listened to it many times together.
So hearing it this morning was a little sad. It made me miss K, but I was doing OK. I was a little teary-eyed a couple times, but not enough to make me switch to another CD.
I got to church, ready to be uplifted by a great Christmas-y sermon. Instead, I listened to a choir singing slow songs in minor keys, and the sermon was about darkness: how dark the world is today (the Om@ha shootings were brought up, as were a few others from the past), how it's the darkest time of the year and how we're even approaching the shortest day of the year. Honestly, I can't even remember the point of the whole sermon. I was too busy trying not to cry during it because instead of being uplifted, I was being reminded of more sad things. Awesome.
When the sermon finished, the choir sang another slow, minor-key song. At that point, I cried out, "Gah!" in frustration and dropped my little church program on the pew in frustration. ER, who was sitting beside me, asked me what was wrong. I told her how I had been sad to begin with, and how the depressing music and sermon about darkness had not helped the situation. As I explained those things to her, I started crying.
"Great, now my eyes are going to be red."
I had successfully fought off the tears earlier in church, so I tried to get them to stop again. This time, though, no luck. I was more frustrated by the fact that I hadn't been able to get my hair to cooperate that morning, so I'd had to pull it back. And I was wearing heels. Which meant I was towering above everyone, and I couldn't hide behind my hair.
ER got up to take Communion, and I stayed in the pew like I always do. While she was up, I looked at my phone, which had been on vibrate. I had three missed calls and a new voice message. I could tell by the weird number that it was K. The fact he had left a voice message probably meant he was telling me he'd just give me a call the next day. Obviously that didn't help me stop crying.
By the time ER joined me again at the pew, I wiped my eyes and realized my fingers were turning black. "Great, my mascara is running now," I said to ER. It's hard enough to mask the fact you're crying when your eyes are red and your face looks like a punching bag without adding the black streaks all over your face.
"Do you want to leave?" ER asked. I admitted I did, and we got up and quickly left the church. Luckily, our exit was timed perfectly with the people getting up for Communion at the back rows of the church. All we missed was singing the last hymn as the pastors and readers left the room.
We went straight to ER's car, and I checked my voice message from K. He said, "I just realized you're probably in church, so I'll call you in about a half-hour. Don't be upset." That part made me smile. ER had pointed out that it was neat that at the point I had started crying was the same time as he had called. "At the same time you were really thinking about him, he was thinking about you," she said.
We headed to the mall for a nice little distraction. I was able to cross another present off my list of Christmas gifts after a quick trip to Bath & Body Works. ER and I spent the rest of the time just looking around and chatting. It was nice and relaxing.
K called me back while we were still there, and I was able to talk to him for more than 20 minutes. He's doing well. He's finally in the area where he is supposed to spend the deployment. He said it's really nice. There's no St@rbucks like at the last base he was at, but K's not a big St@rbucks guy anyway. They do have a nice little coffee shop and a mall with some local stores in it.
K has his own room with a twin-sized bed, a couch, a computer desk and a locker for a closet. He says it's a lot like a dorm room setup. He's going to send my pictures of it. The commander of the battery whose place K's battery is taking gave K his TV, so he'll have that too. It makes me happy to know he'll be as comfortable as possible in the place he'll be living for the next 15 months.
After mall time with ER and especially after the phone call from K, my day got much better. I know there will be rough times through this deployment. Today was my first one, really (You can't count the day they leave. It's impossible for that one to be easy.). I'm happy to say this one only lasted for a couple hours. I know there will be more, but it's good to know that not only do they not have to ruin my entire day, but I don't have to go through them alone, either.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
I don't even know his last name
I had my first massage today from the gift certificate K got me for Christmas. It was nice, but I think next time will be more relaxing than today. I didn't know what to expect, and it was hard to allow myself to completely enjoy it when I wasn't sure where Mr. Massage Guy was going to be putting his hands next.
It's crazy the things you can think of to be self-conscious about during a massage: Are my legs smooth? Are my feet dry? Ugh, why do I have to have a blister on the bottom of my foot right now? I didn't even think to make sure my deodorant didn't glob on today; I hope he can't see it! Oh, he can probably feel how crooked my fingers are -- great.
I know he's probably massaged dozens and dozens (maybe even hundreds) of people in his career, and he's a professional, but it's hard not to get worked up over things like that while a person is staring at your body as they're rubbing it for an entire 50 minutes.
And that doesn't even include the lower lower back massage or the leg massage portions, during which the sheet was moved to expose one entire cheek at a time. Nerve wracking!
That's pretty much third base, right? I mean, there I am, naked on the table, and the sheet was only covering one half of my gluteus maximus. Which he was touching.
Including Mr. Massage Guy, I don't need all the fingers on one hand to count the number of guys who have seen my bare gluteus maximus (much less grabbed it for 10 straight minutes). All I knew about him was his job and his first name. I was wide awake, so I kept thinking of questions I wanted to ask him: How long have you been doing this? Do your hands get tired after massaging people all day, or do you get used to it? How long did you go to school to learn this? Did you have to get tons and tons of massages before you could learn to do it well yourself (because that would be awesome!)? Do you ever even buy people Christmas gifts, or do you just give massages (because if I were friends with a massage therapist, I'd totally be cool with that!)? Do you ever have stressful days at work? Is it possible to even be stressed out with all the aromatherapy candles, the dim lighting and the relaxing music? When you leave here, are you just really relaxed, or do you have a buildup of aggression because you have to be so relaxed all day long?
I kept my mouth shut, though, because I knew Mr. Massage Guy would tell me I wasn't relaxing if I was asking him all those questions. But I still wanted to know.
As if he didn't already know way more about me than I knew about him, it was surprising to see the things a masseuse can determine about you while he's doing his job. Mr. Massage Guy informed me that I carry my stress in my shoulder blades. Not only was he able to tell me that I grind my teeth, but he even informed me that I grind them very badly. He asked me if I wore a mouth guard when I sleep. When I told him I don't, he tried to peg me as someone who needed to visit the dentist. I thought I had him: I went to the dentist just this past summer, and he said nothing about my teeth grinding. But it's about time for my six-month checkup again, so I guess Mr. Massage Guy's radar even caught that.
After our time was up, Mr. Massage Guy left me alone in the room so I could put my fluffy white robe back on. I felt relaxed, cozy and completely pampered. I was wishing even more that K was here so I could really thank him again for such a thoughtful and perfect gift.
The whole experience was really nice, but it wasn't as relaxing as I had thought it would be. Mr. Massage Guy did a great job, so I know it was my own fault for not letting myself completely enjoy it. I fully expect my next visit to be better, now that I know what to expect. It's just always so nerve wracking getting to third base together the first time!
It's crazy the things you can think of to be self-conscious about during a massage: Are my legs smooth? Are my feet dry? Ugh, why do I have to have a blister on the bottom of my foot right now? I didn't even think to make sure my deodorant didn't glob on today; I hope he can't see it! Oh, he can probably feel how crooked my fingers are -- great.
I know he's probably massaged dozens and dozens (maybe even hundreds) of people in his career, and he's a professional, but it's hard not to get worked up over things like that while a person is staring at your body as they're rubbing it for an entire 50 minutes.
And that doesn't even include the lower lower back massage or the leg massage portions, during which the sheet was moved to expose one entire cheek at a time. Nerve wracking!
That's pretty much third base, right? I mean, there I am, naked on the table, and the sheet was only covering one half of my gluteus maximus. Which he was touching.
Including Mr. Massage Guy, I don't need all the fingers on one hand to count the number of guys who have seen my bare gluteus maximus (much less grabbed it for 10 straight minutes). All I knew about him was his job and his first name. I was wide awake, so I kept thinking of questions I wanted to ask him: How long have you been doing this? Do your hands get tired after massaging people all day, or do you get used to it? How long did you go to school to learn this? Did you have to get tons and tons of massages before you could learn to do it well yourself (because that would be awesome!)? Do you ever even buy people Christmas gifts, or do you just give massages (because if I were friends with a massage therapist, I'd totally be cool with that!)? Do you ever have stressful days at work? Is it possible to even be stressed out with all the aromatherapy candles, the dim lighting and the relaxing music? When you leave here, are you just really relaxed, or do you have a buildup of aggression because you have to be so relaxed all day long?
I kept my mouth shut, though, because I knew Mr. Massage Guy would tell me I wasn't relaxing if I was asking him all those questions. But I still wanted to know.
As if he didn't already know way more about me than I knew about him, it was surprising to see the things a masseuse can determine about you while he's doing his job. Mr. Massage Guy informed me that I carry my stress in my shoulder blades. Not only was he able to tell me that I grind my teeth, but he even informed me that I grind them very badly. He asked me if I wore a mouth guard when I sleep. When I told him I don't, he tried to peg me as someone who needed to visit the dentist. I thought I had him: I went to the dentist just this past summer, and he said nothing about my teeth grinding. But it's about time for my six-month checkup again, so I guess Mr. Massage Guy's radar even caught that.
After our time was up, Mr. Massage Guy left me alone in the room so I could put my fluffy white robe back on. I felt relaxed, cozy and completely pampered. I was wishing even more that K was here so I could really thank him again for such a thoughtful and perfect gift.
The whole experience was really nice, but it wasn't as relaxing as I had thought it would be. Mr. Massage Guy did a great job, so I know it was my own fault for not letting myself completely enjoy it. I fully expect my next visit to be better, now that I know what to expect. It's just always so nerve wracking getting to third base together the first time!
Thursday, December 06, 2007
My conscience cost me $9.07
I wear a watch every day. I rely on my watch every day. So when I glanced at my watch this morning sometime after 9 (but definitely not after 10) only to read that it was 12:20, I knew a visit to W@l-Mart was in my near future.
I left my watch on just because taking it off would no doubt be an uncomfortable experience either because a) I'd feel naked, or b) I'd keep glancing at my bare wrist, waiting for it to tell me what time it was, which could possibly result in someone saying that oh-so-horrid "hair past a freckle" joke in response to my missing watch. Being temporarily misled 50 billion times in one day was definitely the best move.
Immediately after dinner tonight, I headed to W@l-Mart to get my watch battery replaced. I headed straight for the jewelry counter, where a man was waiting behind the counter. I asked him if I could buy a watch battery there.
"Yes," he answered.
"Can you replace the watch battery here too?"
The man asked me what kind of watch I had. "Fossil."
"No, we can't do that," he answered. I don't remember his reason why he couldn't change my battery because instead of listening to him, I was too busy trying to figure out how to ask him if he could just change the battery anyway.
Turns out I didn't have to.
He waved me over to a different area of the counter. I handed him my watch, and he started taking it apart to replace the battery.
"I could get fired for doing this," he told me.
"Really? I won't tell. After all, it is a ... Seiko."
"It is?" he asked, looking up at me from my watch.
"Yes," I said with a wink.
"Really?" he asked me. I glanced down at the back of my watch, which was just below his hands. He was pretty much looking right at it. It had a giant F on it. For "Fossil."
... "No."
He had actually believed me. As he continued working, the man mumbled something that sounded like, "Tell ya what, if you just leave a $5 or $10 bill in one of those brochures over there, I won't charge you for the battery."
"What?!" I asked. Surely I'd heard him wrong. But he repeated just what I thought he'd said.
I had no idea how to respond. "Am I going to get in trouble?"
The man laughed at me. "No."
"Will you get in trouble?" The man told me no one would see it. I was to put the money in a brochure, put the brochure back, and walk off and leave it. At the end of his shift, he'd grab the brochure as he left.
I thought about what he was saying. I could get a free battery, and I'd just have to pay him $5. Not that I had any change; I just happened to have a $20 bill from a trip to the ATM last weekend.
But I couldn't steal.
Then again, it was W@l-Mart. It's not like they'd miss a stupid watch battery.
But it was a dishonest thing to do. A dishonest thing to do at Christmastime. Which is even worse than any other time of the year.
I asked the man how much the battery was. He told me it was $4.07.
I knew that if I left W@l-Mart without paying for that battery, I'd feel bad. Possibly for the rest of my life (After all, I do still feel really bad about the two $1 hair bands I stole when I was in the third grade. My mom asked me where I got them, and I lied and told her I won them in class. The store I stole them from closed most of its stores a few years later.). And $4.07 just isn't worth that strain on my conscience.
I told the man I needed change. "How about I pay for the battery and get change that way?" I asked him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. That way both our consciences can be clear."
"My conscience is clear," he told me. I bit my tongue.
I paid for the battery, and because I felt obligated, I placed a $5 bill in the brochure. I put it back in place, and I walked off to continue my shopping.
I started to feel perturbed about the whole experience. Sure, the man had helped me by changing my battery, but he made me feel obligated to pay him for doing something other than standing there. Not cool. I wanted to go back to the counter and grab the brochure with my $5 bill in it.
But I didn't. Instead, I grabbed the few items left on my list, paid for them and left the store. Even after all that, I had the nagging feeling like I'd done something wrong.
Leave it to me to pay more than twice the cost of the battery to avoid having a guilty conscience, only to leave with (you guessed it) a guilty conscience. That's the last time I go there to get a new watch battery.
I left my watch on just because taking it off would no doubt be an uncomfortable experience either because a) I'd feel naked, or b) I'd keep glancing at my bare wrist, waiting for it to tell me what time it was, which could possibly result in someone saying that oh-so-horrid "hair past a freckle" joke in response to my missing watch. Being temporarily misled 50 billion times in one day was definitely the best move.
Immediately after dinner tonight, I headed to W@l-Mart to get my watch battery replaced. I headed straight for the jewelry counter, where a man was waiting behind the counter. I asked him if I could buy a watch battery there.
"Yes," he answered.
"Can you replace the watch battery here too?"
The man asked me what kind of watch I had. "Fossil."
"No, we can't do that," he answered. I don't remember his reason why he couldn't change my battery because instead of listening to him, I was too busy trying to figure out how to ask him if he could just change the battery anyway.
Turns out I didn't have to.
He waved me over to a different area of the counter. I handed him my watch, and he started taking it apart to replace the battery.
"I could get fired for doing this," he told me.
"Really? I won't tell. After all, it is a ... Seiko."
"It is?" he asked, looking up at me from my watch.
"Yes," I said with a wink.
"Really?" he asked me. I glanced down at the back of my watch, which was just below his hands. He was pretty much looking right at it. It had a giant F on it. For "Fossil."
... "No."
He had actually believed me. As he continued working, the man mumbled something that sounded like, "Tell ya what, if you just leave a $5 or $10 bill in one of those brochures over there, I won't charge you for the battery."
"What?!" I asked. Surely I'd heard him wrong. But he repeated just what I thought he'd said.
I had no idea how to respond. "Am I going to get in trouble?"
The man laughed at me. "No."
"Will you get in trouble?" The man told me no one would see it. I was to put the money in a brochure, put the brochure back, and walk off and leave it. At the end of his shift, he'd grab the brochure as he left.
I thought about what he was saying. I could get a free battery, and I'd just have to pay him $5. Not that I had any change; I just happened to have a $20 bill from a trip to the ATM last weekend.
But I couldn't steal.
Then again, it was W@l-Mart. It's not like they'd miss a stupid watch battery.
But it was a dishonest thing to do. A dishonest thing to do at Christmastime. Which is even worse than any other time of the year.
I asked the man how much the battery was. He told me it was $4.07.
I knew that if I left W@l-Mart without paying for that battery, I'd feel bad. Possibly for the rest of my life (After all, I do still feel really bad about the two $1 hair bands I stole when I was in the third grade. My mom asked me where I got them, and I lied and told her I won them in class. The store I stole them from closed most of its stores a few years later.). And $4.07 just isn't worth that strain on my conscience.
I told the man I needed change. "How about I pay for the battery and get change that way?" I asked him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. That way both our consciences can be clear."
"My conscience is clear," he told me. I bit my tongue.
I paid for the battery, and because I felt obligated, I placed a $5 bill in the brochure. I put it back in place, and I walked off to continue my shopping.
I started to feel perturbed about the whole experience. Sure, the man had helped me by changing my battery, but he made me feel obligated to pay him for doing something other than standing there. Not cool. I wanted to go back to the counter and grab the brochure with my $5 bill in it.
But I didn't. Instead, I grabbed the few items left on my list, paid for them and left the store. Even after all that, I had the nagging feeling like I'd done something wrong.
Leave it to me to pay more than twice the cost of the battery to avoid having a guilty conscience, only to leave with (you guessed it) a guilty conscience. That's the last time I go there to get a new watch battery.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
I promise my next post won't be about the deployment
... but I had to share this quick thing. The calendar I have hanging at work is a little mini-calendar with beautiful pictures of gorgeous sunsets. Each month has a little Bible verse or a portion of one over the photo.
I just now happened to really take notice of this month's verse as I glanced at my calendar for a reason I don't even remember. I thought the verse was comforting, given K's deployment last week:
"... the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore. Psalm 121:8"
I just now happened to really take notice of this month's verse as I glanced at my calendar for a reason I don't even remember. I thought the verse was comforting, given K's deployment last week:
"... the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore. Psalm 121:8"
One-week marker
Today marks one week into this deployment. I'm still doing well with things, but it really does feel like it's been longer than a week. I've gotten so many wonderful, supportive messages from friends and from fellow bloggers, and it's been really nice to read those.
I've been keeping myself busy with work and getting back into my normal routine. I've been going to the gym again, and it's been nice. It feels like forever since I last went regularly, with all the traveling and preparations with getting ready for K to leave.
Last weekend was nice, too. I had actually started to feel sad when I was driving home from work Friday night. I had worked late, which is never a good way to kick off the weekend, but realizing I wasn't going to see K that weekend made it that much worse. I knew I could either be sad about it or occupy my time in another way. I chose the latter. I stuck around my apartment getting things done, and it was actually nice.
Saturday, I slept in until 10, and then I busied myself with cleaning my entire apartment. I even steam-cleaned my carpet. I hung out with some friends Saturday night to watch the game. I had two work parties that night (one was our end-of-year office party; the other was a co-worker's "holiday party"). I had planned on going to both, but the Big XII cha.mpionship was my priority. It was too good of a game, so I just skipped the party. I made it to my co-worker's party, though, and it was all right. By the time I got there, a lot of people had left, and a large amount of people still there had consumed more than their fair share of alcohol.
By the time I left and completed the drive home, it was after 2 Sunday morning. I had meant to set my alarm so I could get up and get ready for church later on. When I woke up at 10:30 the next morning, I was disappointed that I wouldn't make it. I had forgotten to set my alarm. (Oops!)
When my phone rang shortly after 11 that morning, I was very glad I had forgotten to set my alarm: It was K.
It's been a very pleasant surprise how often we've gotten to communicate so far. Between emails, IM and the phone, we've gotten to talk a bit each day. From the tone of his voice and the mood in his emails and IMs, I can tell he's doing well and in good spirits. And while all this communication doesn't make the time go faster, it definitely makes the distance feel a little less far.
I've been keeping myself busy with work and getting back into my normal routine. I've been going to the gym again, and it's been nice. It feels like forever since I last went regularly, with all the traveling and preparations with getting ready for K to leave.
Last weekend was nice, too. I had actually started to feel sad when I was driving home from work Friday night. I had worked late, which is never a good way to kick off the weekend, but realizing I wasn't going to see K that weekend made it that much worse. I knew I could either be sad about it or occupy my time in another way. I chose the latter. I stuck around my apartment getting things done, and it was actually nice.
Saturday, I slept in until 10, and then I busied myself with cleaning my entire apartment. I even steam-cleaned my carpet. I hung out with some friends Saturday night to watch the game. I had two work parties that night (one was our end-of-year office party; the other was a co-worker's "holiday party"). I had planned on going to both, but the Big XII cha.mpionship was my priority. It was too good of a game, so I just skipped the party. I made it to my co-worker's party, though, and it was all right. By the time I got there, a lot of people had left, and a large amount of people still there had consumed more than their fair share of alcohol.
By the time I left and completed the drive home, it was after 2 Sunday morning. I had meant to set my alarm so I could get up and get ready for church later on. When I woke up at 10:30 the next morning, I was disappointed that I wouldn't make it. I had forgotten to set my alarm. (Oops!)
When my phone rang shortly after 11 that morning, I was very glad I had forgotten to set my alarm: It was K.
It's been a very pleasant surprise how often we've gotten to communicate so far. Between emails, IM and the phone, we've gotten to talk a bit each day. From the tone of his voice and the mood in his emails and IMs, I can tell he's doing well and in good spirits. And while all this communication doesn't make the time go faster, it definitely makes the distance feel a little less far.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Yay football
If you're not into college football, you might just want to skip this one. :) Or read it and start watching, 'cause you're missing out!
- Weirdest season ever. Who would have thought H@waii would be the only undefeated team at the end of the regular season?!
- Courtney, I am so glad Le$ Mi.les is staying at L$U instead of leaving to coach at Michigan. My repulsion for him makes it all too perfect that he's staying at L$U for a second year, since I like the school about as much as I like him. Since he's not going to Michigan, I can still pull for the Wolverines and see your cute game day pictures with Kyle and still enjoy them!
- The Big XII cha.mpionship game last weekend? Awesome.
- The bowl choices? Thumbs down. See, it all goes back to the fact that the BCS hates the Big XII. Proof? Here you go:
- When we played Okl@homa St@te Thanksgiving weekend, we were ranked 10. Yes, they were unranked, but rivalries are literally a whole different ballgame, no matter what rankings the teams enter with. Three teams ranked ahead of us (#1 L$U, #2 Kansas, #9 Oregon) lost that weekend. We killed Okl@homa St@te that Saturday. We moved up one measly ranking. Yeah.
- If we had entered the Big XII Cha.mpionship with a more appropriate ranking, we would have gone into the bowl selections ranked No. 3 or even 2. (I realize No. 4 is still an awesome ranking, but I think we're better than WVU.)
- Then, we would get to go to the national championship and play Oh!o State. That would have been so much fun! I wouldn't have even cared if we won. Just going and playing them would have been a blast.
- This writer is a genius.
- The Georg!a coach is stupid. Seriously stupid. If you watched the bowl selections, surely you agree with me. The BCS has Georg!a ranked 5, which is a really generous ranking. When the coach found out they had been "passed up" for the national championship, the interviewer asked the coach his thoughts. He said he thought that if the BCS was going to require that you win your division to play in the national championship, then the rules should be changed to clearly state that.
- OK, that would be swell if Georg!a had actually been invited to play in their conference championship!!! The Bulldog$ were the third-ranked team in its conference. A team that can't even make it to its own conference championship has no right to play in the national championship.
- The sports reporter said at the end of his interview that the Georg!a coach had voted Ohio St@te No. 1 and Georg!a No. 2 in his coach's poll. That alone is proof he needs his head examined.
- Even though I wish things had worked out a little differently for OU, the team to really get the shaft was Missouri. They finished the season ranked No. 6, and they're the only team in the top 10 not going to a bowl game. Kansas, who finished No. 8, is playing in the Cotton Bowl.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
The day of the deployment
I've been meaning to get this post out, and today is the first day I've had a chance. Tuesday will mark a week since K left. I think I'm handling it really well, but it still feels like it's been much longer than a week that he's been gone.
We woke up early that Tuesday morning. Even with all the craziness of the week leading up to that day, we still had errands to run. K had to be on post early that day, and we spent over an hour in his office as he tried to get the last few things from the deployment packing list into his bags. Tons of guys in his battery kept coming in and commenting on the things he'd packed and what he'd packed them in ("I didn't think about doing that." "Oh, you decided on that bag? That's a good idea." "Could you get all your stuff in the [insert bag name here]? Yeah, I couldn't either. I had to put mine in my [insert other bag name here].").
We left his office around 9 so K could have his picture taken. He's up for his first look at a promot!on to m@jor while he's in Iraq (There are 3 looks. Evidently it's really hard to get it on your first look, but you want to be ready just in case.). K's second look comes sometime around when he gets back, so he needed to get a photo made in a specific uniform (They have three.) before he left so it would be one less thing to worry about later (Plus, somebody's gotta get it on the first look! K is pretty much a poster boy for the A.rmy -- he even still folds his shirts like they were taught in basic training! -- so I can't imagine who would get it if it isn't him.).
Literally while K was getting his photo made, his phone rang with more work drama. After K was finished with the pictures, we headed straight back to his office so he could do a bit more work and finish up a few final things before he left.
Before I knew it, it was 10:40, which was when K was supposed to start taking his things to the gym, where they were leaving from. He and a couple of the guys made the first trip with K's equipment, and they came back to his office to get the rest. Shortly after 11, we all headed over again for the last time. We stood in a group talking until someone called for everyone to get in a casual formation in the amphitheater to make sure everyone was there.
Those of us who were friends and family members, which included soldiers who weren't leaving that day, stood around watching. I thought the soldiers would be dismissed from the amphitheater, but after several minutes, K came to where I was standing with a few of his friends and had us join him in the amphitheater.
We sat down on the concrete ledge and waited for them to be called to the buses. Piper was with us, so all these kids kept coming up to try to play with her. Since she's spent so little time around them, she's not used to kids and winds up barking at them most of the time. That was a bit frustrating, since the kids definitely did not get the hint. Also, I didn't want to be distracted from those precious few final minutes I have with my husband for the next 15 months by interruptions from kids wanting to play with our dog. I understood their curiosity, and I guess it was my fault for bringing her, but I really had no choice -- K's apartment was his no longer, and I couldn't very well leave Piper in my car for two hours (I had actually thought about it, but it was too warm. And it's just not nice!).
We sat in the amphitheater for a while -- about an hour. K remembered we hadn't gotten a chance to call some friends of ours we said we'd call that weekend. They were both at work, so he called each of them separately and talked to them for just a couple minutes each. After he hung up with them, he called his dad. While he was on the phone, a man at the bottom of the amphitheater yelled out, "It's time!" and waved everyone toward the buses.
I looked around us, and people who hadn't been crying just five seconds earlier were bawling as if on cue. Children had started screaming and wailing, and people everywhere were hugging, trying to get in as much time as they could before the soldiers had to leave. Several of the soldiers were already heading toward the buses.
K was still on the phone with his dad, who I could tell had passed the phone off to K's brother. I could hear K answering the same unimportant questions he'd just answered with his dad -- the very same questions K had answered when we'd seen them that weekend ("Where are you flying out of?" "Where are you flying to?" The second question was especially annoying because K didn't know the answer and probably wouldn't know until they got to the airport.).
As I watched everyone wiping away tears with Kleenex; saw them hanging onto their soldiers for those final moments for many, many months; heard the children crying and screaming, "Daddy!"; and watched the many who already headed toward the buses, I began to feel very indignant and frustrated that K was stuck on the phone answering such questions.
I wanted to scream and start bawling at the same time. I wanted to jump up and down and tell him to GET. OFF. THE. PHONE! I wished for a cord that I could yank out of an invisible wall to disconnect the conversation. I thought about grabbing the phone from his hand and hanging it up. I knew all those feelings were due to the fact we had so little time, and it was being taken from me.
I moved directly in K's line of sight and said to him very insistently, "Hi. I'm here." My eyes were welling up with tears with everything that was going on around us, my frustration at his family for keeping him on the phone, and the knowledge that we were about to say goodbye for such a long time.
He abruptly got off the phone. All my emotions had rushed into my chest and gotten caught in a giant lump in my throat. An involuntary, sudden deep breath produced a sobbing sound I hoped K hadn't heard in his movement to hug me. I wanted to be strong for him. If I took his leaving too hard, it would make things more difficult for him. It would give him that much more to worry about with his leaving, and maybe even more to worry about while he's in Iraq. The last thing I want to do is cause him to concentrate less on his job there. If he's distracted, he's not safe.
We held each other for a time that went way too quickly. He said in my ear, "It's like you told C@thy yesterday: Now you can start the good countdown -- the countdown to R&R. We'll get to go on a nice vacation. It'll be awesome. It'll be here before you know it." (C@thy is his roommate's fiance. His roommate had left the day before.)
Almost everyone was heading toward the buses by then, so K had to gather his things and follow them. I lost him in the sea of uniforms, but I thought our time for goodbye had passed. I walked through a line of soldiers waiting to go through a building before they loaded the buses. Families were waiting next to the soldiers as they stood in line. I turned to look for K so I could stand with him, but it was impossible to find him -- too many people were in the exact same uniform.
I went to the back of the line and followed it forward to see if I could spot him. When I didn't see him, I decided to just wait by the buses and hope I could find him there. The trouble was, I didn't know which bus he'd be on.
As I was trying to decide where I could stand and have the best odds of seeing him, I passed one of our friend's wives. She was wearing sunglasses, but I could see she was crying. Without saying a word, we stopped in front of each other and hugged. I think we both needed it. She told me her husband had gotten on the bus, and she asked if I saw K. I told her I was looking for him, but I hadn't found him. She said he was getting on the first bus, that he was still outside.
I rushed in that direction, and K was there, right at the door. The guy in front of him was climbing on the bus. I wanted to run up and give K one last hug, but he was standing right at the steps, about to get on the bus. I was afraid I'd have just enough time to hug him and he'd have to get on. That wouldn't feel like goodbye.
K saw me standing there watching him. He stuck out his tongue at me and started making goofy faces. I rushed to take a picture of him boarding, but he was already climbing onto the bus.
I stood there with our friend's wife, waiting for the buses to leave. The majority of people seeing the buses off were a few yards away from them. A couple women stood by the buses, reaching their hands up to their husbands who were sitting near the window. A family of a man on the second bus stood below the window where he was seated. The wife picked up each of her two small children one at a time, and she raised them up to the window so their father could kiss them goodbye one last time. Someone brought a chair over to a couple of the women standing by windows so they could kiss their husbands one last time before they left.
My friend and I stood watching all this, trying not to cry and wondering where on that first bus our husbands were. We had been standing there for a good 15 minutes when my friend pointed out that one of the guys on the bus we knew was waving at me. I looked at him, and he waved me toward him. "C@pt. G wants you over there. He's on the other side at the front."
I ran over to the other side of the bus. Sure enough, K was in the very front seat, and he was seated right next to my friend's husband. I ran to the back of the bus and called her over, and we walked together to the front of the bus. I took a quick picture of them.
"I can't believe you two wound up next together!" I said, since I had been waiting with my friend that whole time. K told us the two of them had been the last to get on the bus, so it had worked out that way.
My friend and I had been standing by their window for maybe 15 seconds when the bus driver gave a quick honk to let everyone know they would be leaving soon. My friend reached her hand up to her husband, who was seated by the window. K reached over his friend's head and held his fist out the window for a quick daps. I was sad that was all we had time for, but at the same time, it was appropriate for us -- it was light and fun, and it was exactly what we did when we crossed the finish line together in the MS150. Plus, it's definitely more of an "I'll see you later" move, which is a good vibe to leave with.
As soon as the bus driver put the bus into gear, these two children next to us started screaming and crying for their father. Nearly everyone around us was crying, and it was hard to think about the fact it will be another 15 months before they're really home. We watched until the last of the buses left the parking lot, and we watched them turn onto the street and vanish behind a building. It felt odd, unreal and empty knowing our lives would have to move on for so long without them.
I walked with my friend back to our cars. I was just ready to be home, so I was not looking forward to my five-hour drive. There was some PA-brewed beer left in K's refrigerator, along with some really good chocolates, both of which K's dad and brother had brought down with them for K. I had planned on stopping by to pick them up so they wouldn't just go to waste, but it occurred to me that every time I'd had both of those things had been with K, and I wanted to keep it that way. I turned my car toward home, and I didn't stop the entire drive. I just wanted to be done.
I went through so many emotions so quickly through the drive. First, I felt proud of myself for being so strong that morning. As I stood outside the buses with my friend, I had pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head so K could see I wasn't crying. I wanted him to know I was OK. I was laughing with him when we met them at the front of the bus. He saw those things. That made me feel good.
All of a sudden, I felt hopeful and assured. I just knew that K is going to come home from this deployment safe and sound. I knew we'd both be OK and that it probably will go by pretty quickly. I even felt like I knew the deployment won't last the full 15 months because things will go well and they'll be brought home early.
I thought about K's R&R, which we decided we want to fall after the halfway point in the deployment, which means it'll be sometime in August or September. He'll get 18 days here. We'll spend a week of that time on a trip somewhere -- the Carribean, Mexico, some getaway in Maine ... who knows? -- and probably a week with his family in PA. I was excited for it, but sad at the same time that it feels so far away.
I thought about the length of the deployment. In 15 months, countless babies will be conceived and born. Piper will be full-grown and not even a puppy anymore. I'll be over halfway through age 25. Who knows? I could have wrinkles and gray hair by then (if I do, I'm totally blaming it on the deployment!). (fyi: I do NOT think 25 is old, but some people just don't age as well as others.) K is already losing his hair; he could be completely bald by the time he returns (not that I care, but it's true). In 15 months, people can get engaged, married and divorced. We'll know who wins the Blu-ray/HD DVD war by then. The iPho.ne K wants so badly right now will be outdated, with umpteen billion improvements since the original. Two Christmases will come and go. And two New Years, which is the only holiday we've spent together every year, and even two Valentine's Days (not that I really care too much about that one, but it's another holiday).
So many thing will change from now until then, and whether they're big or small, major or trivial, we won't get to see those changes with one another.
I started to feel jealous of couples who don't have to go through things like this. I felt a little angry at people who don't know what it's like to spend even a week away from their spouse. I felt cheated that we only have weekends together to begin with, but even those are being taken away from us for so long.
I felt guilty for feeling like that. I knew K was in the A.rmy when I met him. I knew this would happen. I'm proud of him for what he's doing.
I went through emotion after emotion, over and over again and in no particular order. Each was spurred by something different each time. Some came without warning.
I tried to distract myself through the drive with phone calls, but in the middle of the day, it's tough to find people who are free. ER called me a couple times on my drive in between projects at work so she could see how I was doing. I talked to my dad, who just listened to me for a while and did a great job of making me feel better.
After talking to a few people on my drive and getting a few unexpected text messages from people who knew what the day marked, I was crying again because I felt so absolutely, amazingly blessed to have such wonderful people in my life. I felt thankful to them and to God for putting them into my life.
I was relieved to find myself getting closer to Dallas. It had just gotten dark, and I was only an hour or so away from the comfort of my own apartment when a movement near the top left corner of my window caught my eye. I looked in the direction of the movement to see a shooting star streaking across the sky. It was one of those shooting stars that actually gives you enough time to make a wish.
The highway in that area is pretty well-lit, so you can only see the brightest stars. I took a good look at the sky, and the same was true for that night. I don't think I've ever, ever, in my more than two and a half years of living here, seen a shooting star anywhere near Dallas. All you can usually see is the glow of the city lights in the sky and flashing bulbs from the dozens and dozens of planes over the city at any given time.
But that movement and that light most definitely came from a shooting star.
I found myself crying again at the realization that my first sighting of a shooting star near Dallas had come at that time. I couldn't let myself write off such a simple, yet so special occurrence as a mere coincidence. And once again, I felt blessed to know there is someone watching over me who knows exactly what I need.
We woke up early that Tuesday morning. Even with all the craziness of the week leading up to that day, we still had errands to run. K had to be on post early that day, and we spent over an hour in his office as he tried to get the last few things from the deployment packing list into his bags. Tons of guys in his battery kept coming in and commenting on the things he'd packed and what he'd packed them in ("I didn't think about doing that." "Oh, you decided on that bag? That's a good idea." "Could you get all your stuff in the [insert bag name here]? Yeah, I couldn't either. I had to put mine in my [insert other bag name here].").
We left his office around 9 so K could have his picture taken. He's up for his first look at a promot!on to m@jor while he's in Iraq (There are 3 looks. Evidently it's really hard to get it on your first look, but you want to be ready just in case.). K's second look comes sometime around when he gets back, so he needed to get a photo made in a specific uniform (They have three.) before he left so it would be one less thing to worry about later (Plus, somebody's gotta get it on the first look! K is pretty much a poster boy for the A.rmy -- he even still folds his shirts like they were taught in basic training! -- so I can't imagine who would get it if it isn't him.).
Literally while K was getting his photo made, his phone rang with more work drama. After K was finished with the pictures, we headed straight back to his office so he could do a bit more work and finish up a few final things before he left.
Before I knew it, it was 10:40, which was when K was supposed to start taking his things to the gym, where they were leaving from. He and a couple of the guys made the first trip with K's equipment, and they came back to his office to get the rest. Shortly after 11, we all headed over again for the last time. We stood in a group talking until someone called for everyone to get in a casual formation in the amphitheater to make sure everyone was there.
Those of us who were friends and family members, which included soldiers who weren't leaving that day, stood around watching. I thought the soldiers would be dismissed from the amphitheater, but after several minutes, K came to where I was standing with a few of his friends and had us join him in the amphitheater.
We sat down on the concrete ledge and waited for them to be called to the buses. Piper was with us, so all these kids kept coming up to try to play with her. Since she's spent so little time around them, she's not used to kids and winds up barking at them most of the time. That was a bit frustrating, since the kids definitely did not get the hint. Also, I didn't want to be distracted from those precious few final minutes I have with my husband for the next 15 months by interruptions from kids wanting to play with our dog. I understood their curiosity, and I guess it was my fault for bringing her, but I really had no choice -- K's apartment was his no longer, and I couldn't very well leave Piper in my car for two hours (I had actually thought about it, but it was too warm. And it's just not nice!).
We sat in the amphitheater for a while -- about an hour. K remembered we hadn't gotten a chance to call some friends of ours we said we'd call that weekend. They were both at work, so he called each of them separately and talked to them for just a couple minutes each. After he hung up with them, he called his dad. While he was on the phone, a man at the bottom of the amphitheater yelled out, "It's time!" and waved everyone toward the buses.
I looked around us, and people who hadn't been crying just five seconds earlier were bawling as if on cue. Children had started screaming and wailing, and people everywhere were hugging, trying to get in as much time as they could before the soldiers had to leave. Several of the soldiers were already heading toward the buses.
K was still on the phone with his dad, who I could tell had passed the phone off to K's brother. I could hear K answering the same unimportant questions he'd just answered with his dad -- the very same questions K had answered when we'd seen them that weekend ("Where are you flying out of?" "Where are you flying to?" The second question was especially annoying because K didn't know the answer and probably wouldn't know until they got to the airport.).
As I watched everyone wiping away tears with Kleenex; saw them hanging onto their soldiers for those final moments for many, many months; heard the children crying and screaming, "Daddy!"; and watched the many who already headed toward the buses, I began to feel very indignant and frustrated that K was stuck on the phone answering such questions.
I wanted to scream and start bawling at the same time. I wanted to jump up and down and tell him to GET. OFF. THE. PHONE! I wished for a cord that I could yank out of an invisible wall to disconnect the conversation. I thought about grabbing the phone from his hand and hanging it up. I knew all those feelings were due to the fact we had so little time, and it was being taken from me.
I moved directly in K's line of sight and said to him very insistently, "Hi. I'm here." My eyes were welling up with tears with everything that was going on around us, my frustration at his family for keeping him on the phone, and the knowledge that we were about to say goodbye for such a long time.
He abruptly got off the phone. All my emotions had rushed into my chest and gotten caught in a giant lump in my throat. An involuntary, sudden deep breath produced a sobbing sound I hoped K hadn't heard in his movement to hug me. I wanted to be strong for him. If I took his leaving too hard, it would make things more difficult for him. It would give him that much more to worry about with his leaving, and maybe even more to worry about while he's in Iraq. The last thing I want to do is cause him to concentrate less on his job there. If he's distracted, he's not safe.
We held each other for a time that went way too quickly. He said in my ear, "It's like you told C@thy yesterday: Now you can start the good countdown -- the countdown to R&R. We'll get to go on a nice vacation. It'll be awesome. It'll be here before you know it." (C@thy is his roommate's fiance. His roommate had left the day before.)
Almost everyone was heading toward the buses by then, so K had to gather his things and follow them. I lost him in the sea of uniforms, but I thought our time for goodbye had passed. I walked through a line of soldiers waiting to go through a building before they loaded the buses. Families were waiting next to the soldiers as they stood in line. I turned to look for K so I could stand with him, but it was impossible to find him -- too many people were in the exact same uniform.
I went to the back of the line and followed it forward to see if I could spot him. When I didn't see him, I decided to just wait by the buses and hope I could find him there. The trouble was, I didn't know which bus he'd be on.
As I was trying to decide where I could stand and have the best odds of seeing him, I passed one of our friend's wives. She was wearing sunglasses, but I could see she was crying. Without saying a word, we stopped in front of each other and hugged. I think we both needed it. She told me her husband had gotten on the bus, and she asked if I saw K. I told her I was looking for him, but I hadn't found him. She said he was getting on the first bus, that he was still outside.
I rushed in that direction, and K was there, right at the door. The guy in front of him was climbing on the bus. I wanted to run up and give K one last hug, but he was standing right at the steps, about to get on the bus. I was afraid I'd have just enough time to hug him and he'd have to get on. That wouldn't feel like goodbye.
K saw me standing there watching him. He stuck out his tongue at me and started making goofy faces. I rushed to take a picture of him boarding, but he was already climbing onto the bus.
I stood there with our friend's wife, waiting for the buses to leave. The majority of people seeing the buses off were a few yards away from them. A couple women stood by the buses, reaching their hands up to their husbands who were sitting near the window. A family of a man on the second bus stood below the window where he was seated. The wife picked up each of her two small children one at a time, and she raised them up to the window so their father could kiss them goodbye one last time. Someone brought a chair over to a couple of the women standing by windows so they could kiss their husbands one last time before they left.
My friend and I stood watching all this, trying not to cry and wondering where on that first bus our husbands were. We had been standing there for a good 15 minutes when my friend pointed out that one of the guys on the bus we knew was waving at me. I looked at him, and he waved me toward him. "C@pt. G wants you over there. He's on the other side at the front."
I ran over to the other side of the bus. Sure enough, K was in the very front seat, and he was seated right next to my friend's husband. I ran to the back of the bus and called her over, and we walked together to the front of the bus. I took a quick picture of them.
"I can't believe you two wound up next together!" I said, since I had been waiting with my friend that whole time. K told us the two of them had been the last to get on the bus, so it had worked out that way.
My friend and I had been standing by their window for maybe 15 seconds when the bus driver gave a quick honk to let everyone know they would be leaving soon. My friend reached her hand up to her husband, who was seated by the window. K reached over his friend's head and held his fist out the window for a quick daps. I was sad that was all we had time for, but at the same time, it was appropriate for us -- it was light and fun, and it was exactly what we did when we crossed the finish line together in the MS150. Plus, it's definitely more of an "I'll see you later" move, which is a good vibe to leave with.
As soon as the bus driver put the bus into gear, these two children next to us started screaming and crying for their father. Nearly everyone around us was crying, and it was hard to think about the fact it will be another 15 months before they're really home. We watched until the last of the buses left the parking lot, and we watched them turn onto the street and vanish behind a building. It felt odd, unreal and empty knowing our lives would have to move on for so long without them.
I walked with my friend back to our cars. I was just ready to be home, so I was not looking forward to my five-hour drive. There was some PA-brewed beer left in K's refrigerator, along with some really good chocolates, both of which K's dad and brother had brought down with them for K. I had planned on stopping by to pick them up so they wouldn't just go to waste, but it occurred to me that every time I'd had both of those things had been with K, and I wanted to keep it that way. I turned my car toward home, and I didn't stop the entire drive. I just wanted to be done.
I went through so many emotions so quickly through the drive. First, I felt proud of myself for being so strong that morning. As I stood outside the buses with my friend, I had pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head so K could see I wasn't crying. I wanted him to know I was OK. I was laughing with him when we met them at the front of the bus. He saw those things. That made me feel good.
All of a sudden, I felt hopeful and assured. I just knew that K is going to come home from this deployment safe and sound. I knew we'd both be OK and that it probably will go by pretty quickly. I even felt like I knew the deployment won't last the full 15 months because things will go well and they'll be brought home early.
I thought about K's R&R, which we decided we want to fall after the halfway point in the deployment, which means it'll be sometime in August or September. He'll get 18 days here. We'll spend a week of that time on a trip somewhere -- the Carribean, Mexico, some getaway in Maine ... who knows? -- and probably a week with his family in PA. I was excited for it, but sad at the same time that it feels so far away.
I thought about the length of the deployment. In 15 months, countless babies will be conceived and born. Piper will be full-grown and not even a puppy anymore. I'll be over halfway through age 25. Who knows? I could have wrinkles and gray hair by then (if I do, I'm totally blaming it on the deployment!). (fyi: I do NOT think 25 is old, but some people just don't age as well as others.) K is already losing his hair; he could be completely bald by the time he returns (not that I care, but it's true). In 15 months, people can get engaged, married and divorced. We'll know who wins the Blu-ray/HD DVD war by then. The iPho.ne K wants so badly right now will be outdated, with umpteen billion improvements since the original. Two Christmases will come and go. And two New Years, which is the only holiday we've spent together every year, and even two Valentine's Days (not that I really care too much about that one, but it's another holiday).
So many thing will change from now until then, and whether they're big or small, major or trivial, we won't get to see those changes with one another.
I started to feel jealous of couples who don't have to go through things like this. I felt a little angry at people who don't know what it's like to spend even a week away from their spouse. I felt cheated that we only have weekends together to begin with, but even those are being taken away from us for so long.
I felt guilty for feeling like that. I knew K was in the A.rmy when I met him. I knew this would happen. I'm proud of him for what he's doing.
I went through emotion after emotion, over and over again and in no particular order. Each was spurred by something different each time. Some came without warning.
I tried to distract myself through the drive with phone calls, but in the middle of the day, it's tough to find people who are free. ER called me a couple times on my drive in between projects at work so she could see how I was doing. I talked to my dad, who just listened to me for a while and did a great job of making me feel better.
After talking to a few people on my drive and getting a few unexpected text messages from people who knew what the day marked, I was crying again because I felt so absolutely, amazingly blessed to have such wonderful people in my life. I felt thankful to them and to God for putting them into my life.
I was relieved to find myself getting closer to Dallas. It had just gotten dark, and I was only an hour or so away from the comfort of my own apartment when a movement near the top left corner of my window caught my eye. I looked in the direction of the movement to see a shooting star streaking across the sky. It was one of those shooting stars that actually gives you enough time to make a wish.
The highway in that area is pretty well-lit, so you can only see the brightest stars. I took a good look at the sky, and the same was true for that night. I don't think I've ever, ever, in my more than two and a half years of living here, seen a shooting star anywhere near Dallas. All you can usually see is the glow of the city lights in the sky and flashing bulbs from the dozens and dozens of planes over the city at any given time.
But that movement and that light most definitely came from a shooting star.
I found myself crying again at the realization that my first sighting of a shooting star near Dallas had come at that time. I couldn't let myself write off such a simple, yet so special occurrence as a mere coincidence. And once again, I felt blessed to know there is someone watching over me who knows exactly what I need.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Building up to the deployment
I headed down to Louisiana after work a week ago Tuesday. I wanted to spend as much time with K as I could before he left, so I had already taken time off around his possible departure dates.
K had to go into work on Wednesday, but it was just supposed to be a short day. Unfortunately, his short day lasted until 6 p.m., thanks to some awesome last-minute issues by people not doing their jobs or pulling stupid stunts to attempt to get out of deploying.
We went out that night for dinner, and then I made my cheesecake, since K had requested it for Thanksgiving. We got up pretty early Thursday morning to pick up a turkey and ham K had ordered, and we delivered it to our friends' house. Everyone was locked down into a 150-mile radius of the base, so we all met up for Thanksgiving at three guys' house. The wife and two girlfriends of the three guys decided 4 p.m. would be the perfect time for dinner for everyone. I decided they were crazy (Seriously, Thanksgiving dinner should take place between 1 and 1:30. You snack all morning while it cooks, you finally eat lunch, and then four or five hours later, you warm up leftovers for dinner because you can't quit thinking about the food still.).
We watched Ghost Hunters, which is evidently a big show in that house, and the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade (the Pride was on it!!!). The guys played Guitar Hero on the Wii, and we played DDR for a while on the Playstation. Once we finally ate, the dinner was good.
I had worried that the day might be a little emotional, since I'd be spending it with people I've grown pretty close to over the last two and a half years, and I would also be saying bye to them
soon after. Other than a few teary-eyed moments that I think no one even caught, I was fine. We girls all managed to escape into a room by ourselves and talk about the deployment and all kinds of other fun girl stuff. It was nice. We all exchanged email addresses and phone numbers to make sure we can stay in touch while our guys are gone. We'll also be able to be a support system for each other over the next 15 months.
I thought that the days following Thanksgiving would give K and me a chance to relax just the two of us. Friday was the closest we came to that.
K had some meetings or something early that morning, but he went back to bed when he got home, so we were able to sleep in a bit. He packed up more of his things from his room -- the clothes and things he'd needed over the past couple weeks since the movers came -- and I tried to busy myself downstairs and pretty much stay out of the way, since I didn't have the slightest clue what he needed to put where.
Late that afternoon, we cleaned up and made the hour drive to the closest town offering us a nice restaurant and something to do. We ate at our favorite, Johnny Carino's, and then we we headed to the mall to pick out some cute Christmas cards and kill time before picking up K's roommate from the airport.
Once again, K had a meeting Saturday morning. My phone woke me up just before 8 a.m. His brother and dad had driven straight through the night to get to Louisiana. They were at the front door. I wound up talking to them for the next few hours until K got home. He had a lot of packing to do for the deployment, and since his dad & brother had been awake for 26 hours straight, they needed to catch up on some sleep. They headed to a hotel (K had no furniture, remember?), and K worked on his packing list all afternoon. That night, we all went to dinner together and watched some football (I was actually the only one really watching it, believe it or not).
Sunday, we went to breakfast with his dad and brother before they left Louisiana in K's SUV. He was sad to see it go. Possibly more sad than he was to see his family leave.
After that, it was back to the packing for him. That afternoon, we made the hour drive to the big town again with K's roommate and his fiance for dinner and a movie. We saw Fred Clause, which was all right. If I was 10, maybe I'd have loved it.
K's roommate left on Monday, so he and his fiance stayed in a hotel Sunday night since they'd packed up all his things (including his air mattress). Believe it or not, K had a meeting again on Monday. Soldier drama, unfinished business and last-minute tasks kept him busy most of the morning. I ran a couple errands on post early in the morning before heading back to his place to attempt to help him pack. It was difficult packing up someone else's things. What was even more difficult was determining which of someone else's things should be thrown out. It felt like I hadn't done much when I decided there was no more I could do on my own. Thank goodness, K called me right then.
Since his truck was on its way to PA, I was his ride. I left to pick him up, and we immediately headed back to his place to finish packing. We got almost all of it done just in time for a maintenance walk-through at 2. My poor little two-door Honda Accord was absolutely packed to the brim. There was barely enough room for K. In fact, he didn't have enough room to put both feet on the floor. He had to squeeze his right leg against the door and cross his left leg over his right knee. Piper had to lie on my lap as I drove, since folders and who knows what else was occupying K's lap.
There were actually things K had intended for me to take home with me, but there was just no room. As a result, his apartment workers will have several rolls of Charmin and a nice set of pots and pans, and his neighbor's girlfriend has a pretty much brand new set of Corningware, since K had K barely used it. There was also a ton of beer in the refrigerator that K had tried to pawn off on several of the guys. The thing was, though, they were all deploying. They all had the same problem.
K and I stayed in a hotel that night. We had to take my mattress, which K had been sleeping on (he brought his nicer mattress here for me to enjoy and take care of while he's gone), to the Thanksgiving guys' house to store during the deployment. Somewhere in the process of all that, after we'd gotten back to K's empty (with the exception of the pots & pans, beer and toilet paper) apartment, he realized he had lost both his and his roommates' set of keys to the apartment and their mailbox. This meant we had to backtrack a lot of steps and call the Thanksgiving guys to see if the keys had been dropped there by accident.
No luck.
We headed back to the hotel, hoping maybe K had left them there and we'd forgotten he had just used my key to get in the door. No such luck.
It's frustrating to know you held something in your hands not even two hours before, yet find no sign of it where you could've sworn you left it. It's even more frustrating to thoroughly search every place you know they could be in a desperate attempt to find the missing item. You spend the rest of your time mentally retracing your steps, trying to piece together how something could have vanished into thin air.
This is exactly what K did the rest of the night. We had gotten back to the hotel sometime after 10, and we both managed to doze off. I woke up to see K lying longways at the foot of the bed, still in the uniform he'd been in since 7:00 that morning. I woke him up to get him to get ready for bed. He was so exhausted, he just took off his uniform and crashed.
With all the craziness of the week leading up to the deployment, it was sad to see that our last night wouldn't be any more calm. What I had hoped would be a relaxing night for the two of us had turned into an attempt to complete the still-long list of errands and then find the set of keys that had seemingly become invisible.
We did get to enjoy some pizza and sparkling wine that night. It was a really nice hour or so. Call me spoiled, but I had hoped for some relaxing that didn't involve chewing and watching Everybody Loves Raymond reruns.
I guess the only saving grace from a hectic final week like that is that it didn't give me much time to think about the fact that it actually was our last week.
K had to go into work on Wednesday, but it was just supposed to be a short day. Unfortunately, his short day lasted until 6 p.m., thanks to some awesome last-minute issues by people not doing their jobs or pulling stupid stunts to attempt to get out of deploying.
We went out that night for dinner, and then I made my cheesecake, since K had requested it for Thanksgiving. We got up pretty early Thursday morning to pick up a turkey and ham K had ordered, and we delivered it to our friends' house. Everyone was locked down into a 150-mile radius of the base, so we all met up for Thanksgiving at three guys' house. The wife and two girlfriends of the three guys decided 4 p.m. would be the perfect time for dinner for everyone. I decided they were crazy (Seriously, Thanksgiving dinner should take place between 1 and 1:30. You snack all morning while it cooks, you finally eat lunch, and then four or five hours later, you warm up leftovers for dinner because you can't quit thinking about the food still.).
We watched Ghost Hunters, which is evidently a big show in that house, and the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade (the Pride was on it!!!). The guys played Guitar Hero on the Wii, and we played DDR for a while on the Playstation. Once we finally ate, the dinner was good.
I had worried that the day might be a little emotional, since I'd be spending it with people I've grown pretty close to over the last two and a half years, and I would also be saying bye to them
soon after. Other than a few teary-eyed moments that I think no one even caught, I was fine. We girls all managed to escape into a room by ourselves and talk about the deployment and all kinds of other fun girl stuff. It was nice. We all exchanged email addresses and phone numbers to make sure we can stay in touch while our guys are gone. We'll also be able to be a support system for each other over the next 15 months.
I thought that the days following Thanksgiving would give K and me a chance to relax just the two of us. Friday was the closest we came to that.
K had some meetings or something early that morning, but he went back to bed when he got home, so we were able to sleep in a bit. He packed up more of his things from his room -- the clothes and things he'd needed over the past couple weeks since the movers came -- and I tried to busy myself downstairs and pretty much stay out of the way, since I didn't have the slightest clue what he needed to put where.
Late that afternoon, we cleaned up and made the hour drive to the closest town offering us a nice restaurant and something to do. We ate at our favorite, Johnny Carino's, and then we we headed to the mall to pick out some cute Christmas cards and kill time before picking up K's roommate from the airport.
Once again, K had a meeting Saturday morning. My phone woke me up just before 8 a.m. His brother and dad had driven straight through the night to get to Louisiana. They were at the front door. I wound up talking to them for the next few hours until K got home. He had a lot of packing to do for the deployment, and since his dad & brother had been awake for 26 hours straight, they needed to catch up on some sleep. They headed to a hotel (K had no furniture, remember?), and K worked on his packing list all afternoon. That night, we all went to dinner together and watched some football (I was actually the only one really watching it, believe it or not).
Sunday, we went to breakfast with his dad and brother before they left Louisiana in K's SUV. He was sad to see it go. Possibly more sad than he was to see his family leave.
After that, it was back to the packing for him. That afternoon, we made the hour drive to the big town again with K's roommate and his fiance for dinner and a movie. We saw Fred Clause, which was all right. If I was 10, maybe I'd have loved it.
K's roommate left on Monday, so he and his fiance stayed in a hotel Sunday night since they'd packed up all his things (including his air mattress). Believe it or not, K had a meeting again on Monday. Soldier drama, unfinished business and last-minute tasks kept him busy most of the morning. I ran a couple errands on post early in the morning before heading back to his place to attempt to help him pack. It was difficult packing up someone else's things. What was even more difficult was determining which of someone else's things should be thrown out. It felt like I hadn't done much when I decided there was no more I could do on my own. Thank goodness, K called me right then.
Since his truck was on its way to PA, I was his ride. I left to pick him up, and we immediately headed back to his place to finish packing. We got almost all of it done just in time for a maintenance walk-through at 2. My poor little two-door Honda Accord was absolutely packed to the brim. There was barely enough room for K. In fact, he didn't have enough room to put both feet on the floor. He had to squeeze his right leg against the door and cross his left leg over his right knee. Piper had to lie on my lap as I drove, since folders and who knows what else was occupying K's lap.
There were actually things K had intended for me to take home with me, but there was just no room. As a result, his apartment workers will have several rolls of Charmin and a nice set of pots and pans, and his neighbor's girlfriend has a pretty much brand new set of Corningware, since K had K barely used it. There was also a ton of beer in the refrigerator that K had tried to pawn off on several of the guys. The thing was, though, they were all deploying. They all had the same problem.
K and I stayed in a hotel that night. We had to take my mattress, which K had been sleeping on (he brought his nicer mattress here for me to enjoy and take care of while he's gone), to the Thanksgiving guys' house to store during the deployment. Somewhere in the process of all that, after we'd gotten back to K's empty (with the exception of the pots & pans, beer and toilet paper) apartment, he realized he had lost both his and his roommates' set of keys to the apartment and their mailbox. This meant we had to backtrack a lot of steps and call the Thanksgiving guys to see if the keys had been dropped there by accident.
No luck.
We headed back to the hotel, hoping maybe K had left them there and we'd forgotten he had just used my key to get in the door. No such luck.
It's frustrating to know you held something in your hands not even two hours before, yet find no sign of it where you could've sworn you left it. It's even more frustrating to thoroughly search every place you know they could be in a desperate attempt to find the missing item. You spend the rest of your time mentally retracing your steps, trying to piece together how something could have vanished into thin air.
This is exactly what K did the rest of the night. We had gotten back to the hotel sometime after 10, and we both managed to doze off. I woke up to see K lying longways at the foot of the bed, still in the uniform he'd been in since 7:00 that morning. I woke him up to get him to get ready for bed. He was so exhausted, he just took off his uniform and crashed.
With all the craziness of the week leading up to the deployment, it was sad to see that our last night wouldn't be any more calm. What I had hoped would be a relaxing night for the two of us had turned into an attempt to complete the still-long list of errands and then find the set of keys that had seemingly become invisible.
We did get to enjoy some pizza and sparkling wine that night. It was a really nice hour or so. Call me spoiled, but I had hoped for some relaxing that didn't involve chewing and watching Everybody Loves Raymond reruns.
I guess the only saving grace from a hectic final week like that is that it didn't give me much time to think about the fact that it actually was our last week.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Reason #492 why I love my job
At work this afternoon:
In case you can't tell, the fine print on the "Goodie Two Shoes Punch" card reads "(not spiked)." The fine print on the "Rebel Punch" card reads "(spiked)."
Two calls in one day!
I promise the post about yesterday is coming, but not tonight. I'm still getting settled in from my week with K in Louisiana.
I got back to my apartment a little before 7:30 last night. I immediately started unpacking, and ER was here soon with some taco soup and extra arms to help me unload while our dinner heated up. I told her about my week and especially the events of the day. I cried through a lot of it. She even teared up as I told her about when K left. I was really glad to have her there with me to have someone to talk to. I can't imagine how it would've been to have the whole evening to myself.
I unpacked my things as I'd planned, and I even managed to find places for several of the things K has me storing while he's gone. By the time I'd showered, changed my sheets and climbed into bed, it was 1:30 a.m. I'm pretty sure I was asleep by 1:32.
I was awakened at 6 a.m. by my cellphone. K had told me before he left that he was going to call me, so I went from being dead asleep to completely excited and awake the second I heard my phone ring. He was in Germany after an eight-hour flight from Atlanta. He was about to fly another six hours to Kuwait.
We only talked about 10 or 15 minutes, but it was just great to hear his voice. Knowing it'll be months and months before I see him again makes me miss him even more than I usually would.
Once I got to work, I noticed I was being really quiet. Honestly, for most of the morning, I just didn't feel like talking to anyone. I found myself avoiding people by focusing my attention on Piper as I walked through the halls at work. I wasn't trying to be rude, I was just afraid if I talked to people, they'd ask me about my week or about K. Part of the week's events would come up, and I was worried I'd start crying. Even though I'd packed makeup for touchups just in case, I didn't really want to spend my day crying.
All of that made me feel a little like a zombie during a few parts of the day, since I was left to think about the next 15 months and the deployment in those times to myself. When people did ask me about the week or about K being gone, I surprised myself when I was able to tell the stories without crying. I teared up, but I didn't cry. Sometimes, the people asking me about it did. I noticed they seemed to choose their words carefully, and a lot of my co-workers had cautious looks on their faces when they asked me about it, as though if they weren't careful, I'd break. Maybe that's part of the reason I felt like avoiding people.
I realized that even though it's just a year ago tomorrow that K got back from Afghanistan, it feels like I'm dealing with this for the first time. I find myself thinking, "How does/did [insert m!litary w!fe friend here] do this?" But I've been through this once before. It was just four months, but still -- that's four months! That's longer than most "civilian" (I put that in quotes because I think it's a military word rather than one I use, but it's the best word for what I need) couples ever have to go without seeing each other.
Tonight, I was pleasantly surprised when my phone rang a bit before 9. It was K again. This time, he was calling from Kuwait. It was early tomorrow morning there, and he'd only been there for about three hours. We got to talk a little longer than this morning, but the phone signal wasn't always steady. He thought it might have been just a heavy call center time, since so many soldiers were using the phone then.
I should hear from him again tomorrow, he said. I know this is just the early stages, since more guys are traveling there through the week. I won't get to talk to him this often the entire time, obviously. But I'm definitely enjoying it now.
I got back to my apartment a little before 7:30 last night. I immediately started unpacking, and ER was here soon with some taco soup and extra arms to help me unload while our dinner heated up. I told her about my week and especially the events of the day. I cried through a lot of it. She even teared up as I told her about when K left. I was really glad to have her there with me to have someone to talk to. I can't imagine how it would've been to have the whole evening to myself.
I unpacked my things as I'd planned, and I even managed to find places for several of the things K has me storing while he's gone. By the time I'd showered, changed my sheets and climbed into bed, it was 1:30 a.m. I'm pretty sure I was asleep by 1:32.
I was awakened at 6 a.m. by my cellphone. K had told me before he left that he was going to call me, so I went from being dead asleep to completely excited and awake the second I heard my phone ring. He was in Germany after an eight-hour flight from Atlanta. He was about to fly another six hours to Kuwait.
We only talked about 10 or 15 minutes, but it was just great to hear his voice. Knowing it'll be months and months before I see him again makes me miss him even more than I usually would.
Once I got to work, I noticed I was being really quiet. Honestly, for most of the morning, I just didn't feel like talking to anyone. I found myself avoiding people by focusing my attention on Piper as I walked through the halls at work. I wasn't trying to be rude, I was just afraid if I talked to people, they'd ask me about my week or about K. Part of the week's events would come up, and I was worried I'd start crying. Even though I'd packed makeup for touchups just in case, I didn't really want to spend my day crying.
All of that made me feel a little like a zombie during a few parts of the day, since I was left to think about the next 15 months and the deployment in those times to myself. When people did ask me about the week or about K being gone, I surprised myself when I was able to tell the stories without crying. I teared up, but I didn't cry. Sometimes, the people asking me about it did. I noticed they seemed to choose their words carefully, and a lot of my co-workers had cautious looks on their faces when they asked me about it, as though if they weren't careful, I'd break. Maybe that's part of the reason I felt like avoiding people.
I realized that even though it's just a year ago tomorrow that K got back from Afghanistan, it feels like I'm dealing with this for the first time. I find myself thinking, "How does/did [insert m!litary w!fe friend here] do this?" But I've been through this once before. It was just four months, but still -- that's four months! That's longer than most "civilian" (I put that in quotes because I think it's a military word rather than one I use, but it's the best word for what I need) couples ever have to go without seeing each other.
Tonight, I was pleasantly surprised when my phone rang a bit before 9. It was K again. This time, he was calling from Kuwait. It was early tomorrow morning there, and he'd only been there for about three hours. We got to talk a little longer than this morning, but the phone signal wasn't always steady. He thought it might have been just a heavy call center time, since so many soldiers were using the phone then.
I should hear from him again tomorrow, he said. I know this is just the early stages, since more guys are traveling there through the week. I won't get to talk to him this often the entire time, obviously. But I'm definitely enjoying it now.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
15 months is a REALLY long time
but at least my countdown has started. K left today for Iraq. It took me about 45 minutes to unload my car (with ER helping!), which was absolutely crammed with K's things.
I'll try to post about the past week soon. For now, though, I'm emotionally, mentally and physically exhausted -- pretty much drained. I've got unpacking to do, a flag to hang and a shower to take. With any luck, I might be in bed by midnight.
For now, please please please keep K and his fellow soldiers in your prayers. Every little bit helps!
I'll try to post about the past week soon. For now, though, I'm emotionally, mentally and physically exhausted -- pretty much drained. I've got unpacking to do, a flag to hang and a shower to take. With any luck, I might be in bed by midnight.
For now, please please please keep K and his fellow soldiers in your prayers. Every little bit helps!
Sunday, November 25, 2007
I thought it was Thanksgiving
First LSU lost. Then Oregon lost too.
As if that wasn't enough, we pretty much killed Okl@homa St@te!
For Sooner fans, it's almost like Christmas!
As if that wasn't enough, we pretty much killed Okl@homa St@te!
For Sooner fans, it's almost like Christmas!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Call me a sore loser
... but this is just too funny not to share. And it just so happens that I didn't find out about it until we played Tex@s Tech last weekend.
(For the record, that drive in the fourth quarter did result in a touchdown. It's just a shame the refs were blind and didn't correct that call after the review.)
__________________________________
Guess who was distracted when she wrote this post, so she didn't completely finish it?
Here are the rest of my thoughts (which are duplicated in my comment to Jef):
Tex@s Tech is a team I don't mind losing to. Tec.h is a team that can always sneak up when you don't expect them to. They definitely played better than us on Saturday. Even if that touchdown had been called a touchdown, I know the remainder of the game would have changed. Who knows what would have happened?
Either way, by the way both teams played the game, Tex@s Tech deserved to come out on top. Good win, Red Raiders.
(For the record, that drive in the fourth quarter did result in a touchdown. It's just a shame the refs were blind and didn't correct that call after the review.)
__________________________________
Guess who was distracted when she wrote this post, so she didn't completely finish it?
Here are the rest of my thoughts (which are duplicated in my comment to Jef):
Tex@s Tech is a team I don't mind losing to. Tec.h is a team that can always sneak up when you don't expect them to. They definitely played better than us on Saturday. Even if that touchdown had been called a touchdown, I know the remainder of the game would have changed. Who knows what would have happened?
Either way, by the way both teams played the game, Tex@s Tech deserved to come out on top. Good win, Red Raiders.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Can I be me again?
In the post I wrote just last night, I was talking about how surprised I was that last weekend wasn't emotional. I thought maybe I'd just kicked into survival mode or something. Well, I went to sleep last night in survival mode and woke up in a completely irrational mode.
I didn't realize it for a long time. I really wanted to go back to sleep when my alarm went off, but after two late nights in a row (I was up until 1:30 last night), that was expected. I got up and started my daily routine, which had an some added chores of loading my car with a ton of things. I had to pack all Piper's toys and food for a week. I packed my clothes for a week, which wound up being more than usual because Mother Nature thinks it's summer the next couple days, and then it'll become fall and winter in one day.
K requested I make my cheesecake for Thanksgiving. Since all of his and his roommate's things are in storage, that means I had to pack absolutely everything I'd need to prepare it -- even spoons for mixing.
I packed some champagne and some wine we bought a couple months back so we could enjoy it this weekend -- I won't drink it if I'm alone, and we bought it to drink together. There were some other things, things I can't even remember right now, but my trunk is pretty loaded.
I busied myself with that this morning, and when I was finished, it was time to take Piper for a walk. This is usually a pretty frustrating time for me, since I usually feel more like the one who's being walked than the one who's doing the walking, but today was worse. And the thing is, Piper wasn't really doing anything that abnormal. I could feel myself growing more and more frustrated at her, and it was like an out-of-body experience. It was like I was watching myself and thinking, "This really isn't a big deal. It's nothing to get worked up over." But then I'd watch myself just walk right on passed a sensible level of frustration and snap at her. I didn't hit her or anything, but it was frustrating to see myself getting so worked up over a puppy who, really, is just being a puppy.
I had tried to call K several times to ask him if I needed to pack the forementioned wine and champagne. Of course, by the time I got in touch with him, I was in my car, ready to back out and head to work. And of course he told me to go ahead and bring the bottles. Which meant I had to go back inside to get them and put them in a cooler. It would be easier to bring Piper with me, rather than leave her to possibly get wet paw prints all over the seats of my car. As I climbed the stairs to my apartment, still on the phone with K, he pointed out that she was just being a puppy. "It's usually me who gets frustrated with her," he said. He pointed out that she wasn't doing anything that bad -- and I knew that.
It was then that it finally registered what the problem was.
I had loaded my car for the trip to Louisiana. The last such trip I'll be taking for 15 months. Because when I come home, it'll be because K is on his way to Ir@q.
I'm stressed, and I'm sad.
In a way, I'm really just ready for him to go. Once he's on his way, I can start figuring out my routine again -- a routine that doesn't involve fun visits on weekends. I can begin my mental to-do list (It includes such exciting things as ridding my wardrobe of things I don't wear, shredding files and getting rid of things I don't need anymore so there's less to move once K gets back. And looking into some kind of photography class. I think I'm even going to run -- and train for -- a half-marathon.).
And instead of my life being a countdown to when K leaves, it'll be a countdown to when he comes home.
A countdown to when we can finally live in the same place as husband and wife. Those are countdowns that are much more fun (and positive). I could really use something like that right now.
I didn't realize it for a long time. I really wanted to go back to sleep when my alarm went off, but after two late nights in a row (I was up until 1:30 last night), that was expected. I got up and started my daily routine, which had an some added chores of loading my car with a ton of things. I had to pack all Piper's toys and food for a week. I packed my clothes for a week, which wound up being more than usual because Mother Nature thinks it's summer the next couple days, and then it'll become fall and winter in one day.
K requested I make my cheesecake for Thanksgiving. Since all of his and his roommate's things are in storage, that means I had to pack absolutely everything I'd need to prepare it -- even spoons for mixing.
I packed some champagne and some wine we bought a couple months back so we could enjoy it this weekend -- I won't drink it if I'm alone, and we bought it to drink together. There were some other things, things I can't even remember right now, but my trunk is pretty loaded.
I busied myself with that this morning, and when I was finished, it was time to take Piper for a walk. This is usually a pretty frustrating time for me, since I usually feel more like the one who's being walked than the one who's doing the walking, but today was worse. And the thing is, Piper wasn't really doing anything that abnormal. I could feel myself growing more and more frustrated at her, and it was like an out-of-body experience. It was like I was watching myself and thinking, "This really isn't a big deal. It's nothing to get worked up over." But then I'd watch myself just walk right on passed a sensible level of frustration and snap at her. I didn't hit her or anything, but it was frustrating to see myself getting so worked up over a puppy who, really, is just being a puppy.
I had tried to call K several times to ask him if I needed to pack the forementioned wine and champagne. Of course, by the time I got in touch with him, I was in my car, ready to back out and head to work. And of course he told me to go ahead and bring the bottles. Which meant I had to go back inside to get them and put them in a cooler. It would be easier to bring Piper with me, rather than leave her to possibly get wet paw prints all over the seats of my car. As I climbed the stairs to my apartment, still on the phone with K, he pointed out that she was just being a puppy. "It's usually me who gets frustrated with her," he said. He pointed out that she wasn't doing anything that bad -- and I knew that.
It was then that it finally registered what the problem was.
I had loaded my car for the trip to Louisiana. The last such trip I'll be taking for 15 months. Because when I come home, it'll be because K is on his way to Ir@q.
I'm stressed, and I'm sad.
In a way, I'm really just ready for him to go. Once he's on his way, I can start figuring out my routine again -- a routine that doesn't involve fun visits on weekends. I can begin my mental to-do list (It includes such exciting things as ridding my wardrobe of things I don't wear, shredding files and getting rid of things I don't need anymore so there's less to move once K gets back. And looking into some kind of photography class. I think I'm even going to run -- and train for -- a half-marathon.).
And instead of my life being a countdown to when K leaves, it'll be a countdown to when he comes home.
A countdown to when we can finally live in the same place as husband and wife. Those are countdowns that are much more fun (and positive). I could really use something like that right now.
Our last weekend in Dallas in 2007
I was at work late Friday night. By the time I got home, I had just enough time to rush through dinner and then finish getting ready for K's arrival in Dallas. Since he won't be here for Christmas, we celebrated Friday night.
I was excited for the gifts I'd gotten K. I'd had one for a few weeks, and the other I knew K would love. I wanted to make sure his gifts were things that he could use in while he's deployed -- things that would even make the time go by faster for him.
Being the gadget guy he is, I decided on a game for his Pl@ystat!on Port@ble (Yes, he has one. Answer to your next question: He's 29. [I know, I know. But trust me, it's kind of endearing.]). And with K being the big J@mes Bond fan he is, I decided on the 007 game.
The bigger gift was the one I was most excited about. I got K a webcam. I'd done my research, and I felt like I'd found the perfect one for K: It had a five-star rating from people who'd bought it, the quality of the audio and video was supposed to be really good, and the people at the electronics store said it was a great webcam. That tiny electronic would help us to stay in touch in a way that would make us feel a little closer together.
I rushed to put up Christmas decorations around my apartment. By the time K got here around 11, I had lights up and on outside on my balcony, and my Christmas tree was up in my living room. I had left the ornaments off so K and I could put them on together. I even had awesome pine-scented candles in my living room and kitchen.
K always goes overboard for Christmas, and this was definitely no different. He had a small pile of gifts, but they were all small, so I hoped that meant he hadn't spent a fortune. He opened his first gift. I had him open his PSP game. Then, he chose my first gift to open. I tore open the paper, and a mix of emotions flooded over me when I saw what was inside: a webcam.
It was funny that we'd gotten each other the same thing, but it was disappointing too. Here I'd had this great idea, and K thought of the exact same gift. "I thought it would be good because we could use them while I'm gone," he said.
"Yeah, it's a really great idea," I said. And I handed him his second gift. He laughed when he opened up his webcam. I was a little more disappointed by the whole thing than he was, since that was supposed to be his big gift.
Next, K had me open a gift in a small bag. It was an envelope with a spa emblem on the front. When I opened it, I immediately started crying as I read what K had written on the gift certificate: "For those times every month when you need to relax." K had gotten me a package at a spa near my apartment. I can choose between three different spa treatments -- a Swedish massage, a facial, or an aromatherapy pedicure and spa manicure -- every month for the next year. There were a few things about last week that made me realize how stressed out I'm feeling about this whole deployment, so the fact that K had thought to do something to relieve that stress while he's gone really meant a lot.
I was also worried about how much it had cost. I could only imagine what 12 sessions at a spa could cost. I know you're not supposed to think about things like that when people give you gifts, but so far K had duplicated my big gift for him and gotten me a year at a spa. And I still had a handful of gifts sitting next to me!
I was overwhelmed for a little while, but K dismissed the multitude of gifts by telling me that it'll be hard for him to send me things while he's gone. I'll be sending him care packages, which will include many, many movies that will come out while he's gone. Care package costs add up a lot faster than you'd think. Since we won't be going out to eat or to movies, K explained that the spa is nothing per month. He wanted to be able to do something nice for me to still take care of me even though he won't be here to do it himself.
So the insane gift-giving continued. The next gift was one I actually had suspected K would get me (I just had figured it would be the biggest gift): an iPhone. He had wanted to get me one for a while, but I kept telling him there was no need for me to have such an expensive cell phone. Then one day at the gym, I was thinking about how I was about to have to have my cell phone with me everywhere I go. When K was in Afghanistan, I didn't have an iPod, so I just took my phone with me to the gym. If it rang, I could hear it fine.
Now, though, there's an iPod in the mix. And since my gym plays the worst music ever to work out to (think Jackson 5, Boy George and little teenyboppers like Jesse McCartney singing about how he wants my "beautiful soul" -- I could throw up just thinking about it), my iPod isn't going anywhere. I realized if I had the iPhone, I would be able to listen to my music on it. That way, if K called from Iraq, I wouldn't miss it.
K told me that as soon as I told him I could actually justify it, it was done. He'd planned on the iPhone anyway, but he knew then that I wouldn't be so opposed to it.
The other gifts were some iPhone accessories -- a car charger and a case for the phone.
Of course, we spent most of Saturday playing with the iPhone. We went over to Jeremy's to watch the OU-Tech game. That was a disappointment. We didn't play well at all. I can't help but wonder how different the game would have been had our quarterback not gotten a concussion. Our backup was really disappointing. And we also a touchdown in the 4th quarter that wasn't called a touchdown. The same thing happened the last time we played at Tech, so a lot of Sooner fans are discussing that. I missed the game two years ago, so I don't know what they're talking about. But I do know our guy caught the ball and had full possession of it when his foot landed in the end zone. That was clear. But any Sooner fan knows we always get screwed over in reviews (Side story: A funny memory from an OU game last year is when the officials announced a time out for a review. The entire stadium simultaneously started booing so loud. It was awesome. We hate reviews.).
Sunday was a relaxing day. We both hooked up our webcams and relaxed. The weekend went better for me than I'd expected. I figured I'd be a bit emotional, considering it's our last weekend together in Dallas for a long time. It could be 2009 before K comes here again.
K didn't leave here until 9 last night, which meant I was up late waiting to go to bed until he was safe at home. With everything I had to do tonight, it's another late night and an exhausted me. Here's hoping the next week goes slowly!
I was excited for the gifts I'd gotten K. I'd had one for a few weeks, and the other I knew K would love. I wanted to make sure his gifts were things that he could use in while he's deployed -- things that would even make the time go by faster for him.
Being the gadget guy he is, I decided on a game for his Pl@ystat!on Port@ble (Yes, he has one. Answer to your next question: He's 29. [I know, I know. But trust me, it's kind of endearing.]). And with K being the big J@mes Bond fan he is, I decided on the 007 game.
The bigger gift was the one I was most excited about. I got K a webcam. I'd done my research, and I felt like I'd found the perfect one for K: It had a five-star rating from people who'd bought it, the quality of the audio and video was supposed to be really good, and the people at the electronics store said it was a great webcam. That tiny electronic would help us to stay in touch in a way that would make us feel a little closer together.
I rushed to put up Christmas decorations around my apartment. By the time K got here around 11, I had lights up and on outside on my balcony, and my Christmas tree was up in my living room. I had left the ornaments off so K and I could put them on together. I even had awesome pine-scented candles in my living room and kitchen.
K always goes overboard for Christmas, and this was definitely no different. He had a small pile of gifts, but they were all small, so I hoped that meant he hadn't spent a fortune. He opened his first gift. I had him open his PSP game. Then, he chose my first gift to open. I tore open the paper, and a mix of emotions flooded over me when I saw what was inside: a webcam.
It was funny that we'd gotten each other the same thing, but it was disappointing too. Here I'd had this great idea, and K thought of the exact same gift. "I thought it would be good because we could use them while I'm gone," he said.
"Yeah, it's a really great idea," I said. And I handed him his second gift. He laughed when he opened up his webcam. I was a little more disappointed by the whole thing than he was, since that was supposed to be his big gift.
Next, K had me open a gift in a small bag. It was an envelope with a spa emblem on the front. When I opened it, I immediately started crying as I read what K had written on the gift certificate: "For those times every month when you need to relax." K had gotten me a package at a spa near my apartment. I can choose between three different spa treatments -- a Swedish massage, a facial, or an aromatherapy pedicure and spa manicure -- every month for the next year. There were a few things about last week that made me realize how stressed out I'm feeling about this whole deployment, so the fact that K had thought to do something to relieve that stress while he's gone really meant a lot.
I was also worried about how much it had cost. I could only imagine what 12 sessions at a spa could cost. I know you're not supposed to think about things like that when people give you gifts, but so far K had duplicated my big gift for him and gotten me a year at a spa. And I still had a handful of gifts sitting next to me!
I was overwhelmed for a little while, but K dismissed the multitude of gifts by telling me that it'll be hard for him to send me things while he's gone. I'll be sending him care packages, which will include many, many movies that will come out while he's gone. Care package costs add up a lot faster than you'd think. Since we won't be going out to eat or to movies, K explained that the spa is nothing per month. He wanted to be able to do something nice for me to still take care of me even though he won't be here to do it himself.
So the insane gift-giving continued. The next gift was one I actually had suspected K would get me (I just had figured it would be the biggest gift): an iPhone. He had wanted to get me one for a while, but I kept telling him there was no need for me to have such an expensive cell phone. Then one day at the gym, I was thinking about how I was about to have to have my cell phone with me everywhere I go. When K was in Afghanistan, I didn't have an iPod, so I just took my phone with me to the gym. If it rang, I could hear it fine.
Now, though, there's an iPod in the mix. And since my gym plays the worst music ever to work out to (think Jackson 5, Boy George and little teenyboppers like Jesse McCartney singing about how he wants my "beautiful soul" -- I could throw up just thinking about it), my iPod isn't going anywhere. I realized if I had the iPhone, I would be able to listen to my music on it. That way, if K called from Iraq, I wouldn't miss it.
K told me that as soon as I told him I could actually justify it, it was done. He'd planned on the iPhone anyway, but he knew then that I wouldn't be so opposed to it.
The other gifts were some iPhone accessories -- a car charger and a case for the phone.
Of course, we spent most of Saturday playing with the iPhone. We went over to Jeremy's to watch the OU-Tech game. That was a disappointment. We didn't play well at all. I can't help but wonder how different the game would have been had our quarterback not gotten a concussion. Our backup was really disappointing. And we also a touchdown in the 4th quarter that wasn't called a touchdown. The same thing happened the last time we played at Tech, so a lot of Sooner fans are discussing that. I missed the game two years ago, so I don't know what they're talking about. But I do know our guy caught the ball and had full possession of it when his foot landed in the end zone. That was clear. But any Sooner fan knows we always get screwed over in reviews (Side story: A funny memory from an OU game last year is when the officials announced a time out for a review. The entire stadium simultaneously started booing so loud. It was awesome. We hate reviews.).
Sunday was a relaxing day. We both hooked up our webcams and relaxed. The weekend went better for me than I'd expected. I figured I'd be a bit emotional, considering it's our last weekend together in Dallas for a long time. It could be 2009 before K comes here again.
K didn't leave here until 9 last night, which meant I was up late waiting to go to bed until he was safe at home. With everything I had to do tonight, it's another late night and an exhausted me. Here's hoping the next week goes slowly!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
I'm still here
... just busy, that's all. Last weekend was, as I predicted, crazy. It managed to be even more hectic than I thought. Because it was a week ago, here's a quick rundown:
- thursday: Work. I left for Louisiana just after 6, so I got there just before 11 because I only stopped once for dinner, gas and a quick bathroom break. I had enough time to lay around and delay the inevitable getting-ready-for-bed process. I finally got in the shower and after spending some time with K, was asleep just before 1.
- friday: Woke up at 5 to leave with K by 5:30 for his run. Sat in parking lot for 30 minutes waiting for the time to line up with people from his battery. Cheered him on, but didn't have enough hands to wave, take pictures and hold up the three awesome signs I made Wednesday night.
- After run, met K at the end and headed with him to get my military ID. Took worst photo in the history of the world and was informed by evil woman (who was FRIENDS with K!!!) that "all military ID photos are bad. Get over it."
- Attempted to get vehicle registered for post, only to learn in my great organizing efforts a couple weeks ago, I filed away my updated registration papers and left my expired ones in my car (Doh!).
- Went to lunch with K and the guys, and proceeded to spontaneously start crying over the realization that I will be saying goodbye to all of them (who have become good friends) for 15 months.
- Went to deployment ceremony, where I managed to get K to crack a smile when he was supposed to be stern and at attention (He can't resist me!).
- Headed to post-ceremony reception, where I told K's roommate and his fiance that I was going to be a good Army wife and meet him at the door with a beer, since I thought he would like that. They looked at my like I was insane, so I decided not tot. I told K about that when he arrived a few minutes later. He would have liked it. That's the last time I listen to his roommate and his fiance.
- Went to BBQ at our friends' house. Had delicious food and some good girl time while the guys all played Gu!tar Hero. Learned friend's husband makes awesome strawberry daiquiris, so enjoyed several of those. Met a guy friend's new fiance and decided she sucks. Fell asleep on couch at 11:30 after a LONG day.
- saturday: Woke at 7 a.m. to begin getting K's things ready for the movers. Packers arrived at 9 and finished by 11 (they were fast!). Waited for movers. And waited. They arrived after 1. I left just after 2 so I could pick Piper up in Dallas (we boarded her for the busy weekend). Arrived in Dallas right around 7. Had just enough time to get K's Christmas present before he got here. Started dinner. Ate dinner. Crashed.
- sunday: Got up at 8:30ish and gave Piper a bath. Got ready for church. Church from 11 to noon, then marriage counseling with the pastor for the Dallas wedding from 1:30 to 2:30. Just before 3:30, left for OK to take K's ginormous TV to my dad rather than leave it in storage for 15 months (especially when K is going to want a new one when he gets back). Had steak dinner with Dad, his girlfriend & my grandparents. Headed home late that night.
- monday: Worked from home. Thank goodness, since it was such a late night Sunday.
This week at work has been crazy hectic. I've been really tired lately, and I'm finally realizing it's because I'm stressed. This deployment has me all jumbled up.
For the most part, I'm good, but everyone once in a while, I just start tearing up seemingly out of nowhere. The thing is, it's kind of all I can think about. Fifteen months is a long time. And the truth is, I don't even think K is going to be gone that long. I think it'll be close to a year (probably right around there), but 15 months? With the election coming and the Ir@qi troops gradually taking more control, it seems like things are winding down. At the same time, I'd rather them just keep sticking it out rather than rush to finish the job before it's done.
K has a "definite" (like anything's ever definite in the m!litary until it's done!) departure date now. I'm not supposed to share it until he's gone, but there is a date. He's coming here this weekend, which is good. I'll go to Louisiana for Thanksgiving, which will be spent with all the guys there. I've already told K to be prepared -- I'm sure I'll randomly start crying about 50 gazillion times.
This whole deployment thing is so much easier when you only have 10 days' notice.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Busy day tomorrow!
Today's been an unexpectedly slow day, which worked perfectly to my advantage, giving me plenty of time to celebrate a co-worker's birthday with her. Last night was a busy night for me. I'm off work tomorrow because I'm headed to Louisiana tonight. K has a brigade run tomorrow, and they're making it a big deal, with friends and family to cheer them on as they go. Then, tomorrow afternoon, K has a predeployment ceremony. I have no idea what to expect for either.
I made three signs last night -- one for me and two for others who didn't make any. I'll have to leave K's place at about 5:15ish (a.m.!!!) to get a pass to get on post and have plenty of time to find where the wives from his battery are standing. Should be interesting, since I don't know my way around post, and I know one whole wife who will be there -- and she's short, so she'll be harder to find.
After we cheer everyone on during the four-mile run, I'm off to get my military ID. That should be interesting. Then, battling the crowd again to get to the deployment ceremony. It'll be a busy day, but not as busy as the weekend.
The movers are coming to load up K's things and put them in storage on Saturday. K doesn't want his awesome mattress and TV sitting and collecting dust for 15+ months, so I'm taking his mattress and mine is going in storage. My dad is getting the TV because it's 60 inches, so it would take up my whole living room. That means K and I will be delivering the TV to OK. We're hoping we can get that done on Saturday. That way, we can have my dad's delicious steak and stay for the night, then get up early Sunday morning to make it back in time for church at 11. Immediately after church, we have a marriage counseling appointment. I'm looking forward to it.
And Sunday afternoon? No plans. Finally. We're gonna need it.
So now I'm off to Louisiana. It's going to be a long night, a long day tomorrow, and one crazy weekend.
I made three signs last night -- one for me and two for others who didn't make any. I'll have to leave K's place at about 5:15ish (a.m.!!!) to get a pass to get on post and have plenty of time to find where the wives from his battery are standing. Should be interesting, since I don't know my way around post, and I know one whole wife who will be there -- and she's short, so she'll be harder to find.
After we cheer everyone on during the four-mile run, I'm off to get my military ID. That should be interesting. Then, battling the crowd again to get to the deployment ceremony. It'll be a busy day, but not as busy as the weekend.
The movers are coming to load up K's things and put them in storage on Saturday. K doesn't want his awesome mattress and TV sitting and collecting dust for 15+ months, so I'm taking his mattress and mine is going in storage. My dad is getting the TV because it's 60 inches, so it would take up my whole living room. That means K and I will be delivering the TV to OK. We're hoping we can get that done on Saturday. That way, we can have my dad's delicious steak and stay for the night, then get up early Sunday morning to make it back in time for church at 11. Immediately after church, we have a marriage counseling appointment. I'm looking forward to it.
And Sunday afternoon? No plans. Finally. We're gonna need it.
So now I'm off to Louisiana. It's going to be a long night, a long day tomorrow, and one crazy weekend.
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Stop rushing November!
For months now, my co-workers have been talking about holiday parties. One of my co-workers evidently throws this big, really cool party with his neighbor each year in their downtown lofts. Given that we now find ourselves approaching the middle of November, talk of the holiday parties has increased.
Our work party and the forementioned holiday party both take place the first weekend of December. I've been asked if I've bought a dress for the party, and at least every other day the party-thrower swings by my area to share a new recipe he's found for his smorgasboard for the guests.
Just minutes ago, I got an office-wide invite to a potluck the week after Thanksgiving. It's even during office hours, which means pretty much no work will get done that day.
Everyone seems to get more and more excited as yet another day of November is under our belts. Their chatter gets quicker and more productive as their discussions move from ideas to plans. They're excited about an excuse to shop for nice new clothes, which party they'll go to first that weekend of December, and what they'll do for Christmas.
For me, though, each time I glance at the calendar to realize another November day has passed, it gets harder and harder to hold back the tears.
That exciting first weekend of December -- that weekend of parties, food and new dresses -- marks the first of a long, long string of weekends without K. It's the beginning of that stressful routine of trying to avoid the news day in and day out; of 15 months of knowing if I want to just give K a quick call or send him a text message, I'm out of luck; of having my phone by my side every.where. I. go. until K is back here, next to me. It's the beginning of a life where an email or a phone call means so much more than I ever could have imagined, and where missing a phone call could ruin my entire week.
It's the beginning of 15 months of my life that I hope go just as quickly as these November days are flying by.
Our work party and the forementioned holiday party both take place the first weekend of December. I've been asked if I've bought a dress for the party, and at least every other day the party-thrower swings by my area to share a new recipe he's found for his smorgasboard for the guests.
Just minutes ago, I got an office-wide invite to a potluck the week after Thanksgiving. It's even during office hours, which means pretty much no work will get done that day.
Everyone seems to get more and more excited as yet another day of November is under our belts. Their chatter gets quicker and more productive as their discussions move from ideas to plans. They're excited about an excuse to shop for nice new clothes, which party they'll go to first that weekend of December, and what they'll do for Christmas.
For me, though, each time I glance at the calendar to realize another November day has passed, it gets harder and harder to hold back the tears.
That exciting first weekend of December -- that weekend of parties, food and new dresses -- marks the first of a long, long string of weekends without K. It's the beginning of that stressful routine of trying to avoid the news day in and day out; of 15 months of knowing if I want to just give K a quick call or send him a text message, I'm out of luck; of having my phone by my side every.where. I. go. until K is back here, next to me. It's the beginning of a life where an email or a phone call means so much more than I ever could have imagined, and where missing a phone call could ruin my entire week.
It's the beginning of 15 months of my life that I hope go just as quickly as these November days are flying by.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Impatiently waiting
Dear DMV,
I visited you two weeks ago today to get a shiny new driver's license with my new married name, and you told me it would take "about two weeks" before I'd get it in the mail.
I know I was apprehensive about the whole name-change thing after I visited the Social Security office. It was just a big change. I don't know if you're trying to give me more time to adjust to my new name, but if that's the case, I don't need it.
I already explained that I felt much better about the whole thing by the end of the very day I'd made the change. So much better, in fact, that I had made peace with it -- I was done with my old name and ready to embrace the new one. I'm loving my Social Security card and the debit card with my fabulous new name on them. (Don't tell anyone this, but sometimes, I even pull them out just to look at my new name, all neatly printed on them. That's how much I like it.)
The Social Security office had told me it would take "about two weeks" to get my updated card from them, but do you know how long it really took? A week. Maybe. So I got my hopes up that "about two weeks" meant the same thing to you.
But it doesn't.
Go figure, since the license is what I'm most excited about. I mean, it has my picture next to it so it's absolutely clear that I am the owner of that fabulous new name. Plus, I go places where people will want to see it.
And who knows? I could even be more photogenic as a Mrs. than in my driver's license pictures as a Ms!
Not that you're in any hurry to put an end to my wait. So I'm going to rush to my mailbox yet again today, and I'll be really disappointed if I don't have any mail from you. Please don't keep me waiting any longer.
Sincerely,
Mrs. K
I visited you two weeks ago today to get a shiny new driver's license with my new married name, and you told me it would take "about two weeks" before I'd get it in the mail.
I know I was apprehensive about the whole name-change thing after I visited the Social Security office. It was just a big change. I don't know if you're trying to give me more time to adjust to my new name, but if that's the case, I don't need it.
I already explained that I felt much better about the whole thing by the end of the very day I'd made the change. So much better, in fact, that I had made peace with it -- I was done with my old name and ready to embrace the new one. I'm loving my Social Security card and the debit card with my fabulous new name on them. (Don't tell anyone this, but sometimes, I even pull them out just to look at my new name, all neatly printed on them. That's how much I like it.)
The Social Security office had told me it would take "about two weeks" to get my updated card from them, but do you know how long it really took? A week. Maybe. So I got my hopes up that "about two weeks" meant the same thing to you.
But it doesn't.
Go figure, since the license is what I'm most excited about. I mean, it has my picture next to it so it's absolutely clear that I am the owner of that fabulous new name. Plus, I go places where people will want to see it.
And who knows? I could even be more photogenic as a Mrs. than in my driver's license pictures as a Ms!
Not that you're in any hurry to put an end to my wait. So I'm going to rush to my mailbox yet again today, and I'll be really disappointed if I don't have any mail from you. Please don't keep me waiting any longer.
Sincerely,
Mrs. K
Monday, November 05, 2007
Totally kicking myself for not going to this game!
Piper: Making Slow Work Days Fun Since August 2007
This is what you have to resort to when your dog chews through not one, but two leashes while you're trying to be a productive employee on a Friday (like that isn't hard enough to begin with!):
Don't be deceived by the hateful look in this picture. I'm pretty sure she likes her hair like this.
OK, this one, she might not be enjoying as much. But I only made her sport the combover for this picture.
Don't be deceived by the hateful look in this picture. I'm pretty sure she likes her hair like this.
OK, this one, she might not be enjoying as much. But I only made her sport the combover for this picture.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Nightmare in a song
I love Carrie Underwood. Love her. She's adorable, she has a great voice, she's wholesome and she's classy. And she's an Okie. What's not to love?
Her new CD came out a week ago, and I bought it off iTunes last night. Her first CD rocked, so I was excited to see what the new one had in store. ER and I hung out last night watching Private Practice when I started downloading the album. "I just want to listen to every single song at once!" I said as I listened to a little clip of each song on the album.
After ER left, I listened to the CD. I was really enjoying it. Then the fourth song, "Just a Dream," came on. The first few lines really caught my attention:
It was two weeks after the day she turned 18
All dressed in white
Going to the church that night
She had his box of letters in the passenger seat
Sixpence in a shoe, something barrowed, something blue
And when the church doors opened up wide
She put her veil down
I thought it was going to be a song I could really connect to (minus the age 18 part, but still). I was excited to hear the rest of the song, and I was a little confused by the next lines:
Trying to hide the tears
Oh, she just couldn't believe it
She heard the trumpets from the military band
And the flowers fell out of her hand
I a bit distracted doing other things, so the chorus made me think she'd been left at the altar:
Baby why'd you leave me
Why'd you have to go?
I was counting on forever, now I'll never know
I can't even breathe
It's like I'm looking from a distance
Standing in the background
Everybody's saying, he's not coming home now
This can't be happening to me
This is just a dream
I started really listening to the lyrics to hear the rest of the story:
The preacher man said let us bow our heads and pray
Lord please lift his soul, and heal this hurt
Then the congregation all stood up and sang the saddest song that she ever heard
The next line completely cleared up all my confusion:
Then they handed her a folded up flag ...
I was listening to my worst nightmare in a song:
And she held on to all she had left of him
Oh, and what could have been
And then the guards rang one last shot
And it felt like a bullet in her heart
At the flag line, I was left bawling at my computer. It was a beautiful melody, and Carrie sang it well, but I was so frustrated by the lyrics.
Who would write a song like that? Who could put something like that on paper and pass it on to someone to sing? I was really disappointed that it was on the album, and I'm praying it's not one of the songs that is chosen to be released.
The thing is, any song that praises the military or humanizes the soldiers is usually a hit. And it's a nice thought, I guess, that people want to show support like that, but this song is just not the same. I think that was the intention, but I'm pretty sure the writer of the song (it wasn't Carrie) had no idea what he or she was doing.
When I talked to K last night, I had him look up the lyrics online. "That's morbid," was his response. He was frustrated by it too. "Like they need to make it any harder for us to leave," he said.
I looked up reviews for the album, and what's sad is this seems to be one of the standouts for her fans. I'm betting none of those people praising the song have any idea what it's like to avoid the news for months on end, to have to get signed onto your new husband's will and decide who you want with you for support and help planning a funeral just in case, or to get a phone call like this:
Friend/family member/acquaintance/coworker/near stranger who has nothing better to do than try to freak me out: Hey! How are you?
Me: Good. Just working.
Caller: Yeah? ... Cool ...
Me: ... ... Yup. Pretty cool. [waiting] So, what are you doing?
Caller: Oh, nothing. Just thought I'd call and see if you're having a good day.
Me: Yup. Preeeetty standard.
Caller: Cool, cool. ... ... [clearing throat] So ... have you heard from K lately?
Me: Not lately lately. I talked to him a few days ago, and he told me he was going to call me last night, but since I didn't hear from him, I'm sure he's on a convoy or he was just exausted or something. I'm sure I'll hear from him tonight.
Caller: Yeah. ... ... Have you seen the news?
(The thing is, when K was in Afghanistan, I worked for the media. I had always seen the news. It was my job. And even though I knew that no news was good news -- that if anything happened, I'd know immediately -- it was not comforting or helpful at all to get phone calls like that. But still those calls came. They came as if I didn't know [x] number of troops were killed in [this] part of Afghanistan.)
It's hard enough to get through the days with your own worries at a time like that, so it's really uncool to have other people add a little more to your plate.
And it's really disappointing to think that my absolutely worst nightmare ever could be torturing me over and over on radio stations all over the country because some writer who clearly doesn't understand this is someone's horrible reality wanted to capitalize on the times.
Her new CD came out a week ago, and I bought it off iTunes last night. Her first CD rocked, so I was excited to see what the new one had in store. ER and I hung out last night watching Private Practice when I started downloading the album. "I just want to listen to every single song at once!" I said as I listened to a little clip of each song on the album.
After ER left, I listened to the CD. I was really enjoying it. Then the fourth song, "Just a Dream," came on. The first few lines really caught my attention:
It was two weeks after the day she turned 18
All dressed in white
Going to the church that night
She had his box of letters in the passenger seat
Sixpence in a shoe, something barrowed, something blue
And when the church doors opened up wide
She put her veil down
I thought it was going to be a song I could really connect to (minus the age 18 part, but still). I was excited to hear the rest of the song, and I was a little confused by the next lines:
Trying to hide the tears
Oh, she just couldn't believe it
She heard the trumpets from the military band
And the flowers fell out of her hand
I a bit distracted doing other things, so the chorus made me think she'd been left at the altar:
Baby why'd you leave me
Why'd you have to go?
I was counting on forever, now I'll never know
I can't even breathe
It's like I'm looking from a distance
Standing in the background
Everybody's saying, he's not coming home now
This can't be happening to me
This is just a dream
I started really listening to the lyrics to hear the rest of the story:
The preacher man said let us bow our heads and pray
Lord please lift his soul, and heal this hurt
Then the congregation all stood up and sang the saddest song that she ever heard
The next line completely cleared up all my confusion:
Then they handed her a folded up flag ...
I was listening to my worst nightmare in a song:
And she held on to all she had left of him
Oh, and what could have been
And then the guards rang one last shot
And it felt like a bullet in her heart
At the flag line, I was left bawling at my computer. It was a beautiful melody, and Carrie sang it well, but I was so frustrated by the lyrics.
Who would write a song like that? Who could put something like that on paper and pass it on to someone to sing? I was really disappointed that it was on the album, and I'm praying it's not one of the songs that is chosen to be released.
The thing is, any song that praises the military or humanizes the soldiers is usually a hit. And it's a nice thought, I guess, that people want to show support like that, but this song is just not the same. I think that was the intention, but I'm pretty sure the writer of the song (it wasn't Carrie) had no idea what he or she was doing.
When I talked to K last night, I had him look up the lyrics online. "That's morbid," was his response. He was frustrated by it too. "Like they need to make it any harder for us to leave," he said.
I looked up reviews for the album, and what's sad is this seems to be one of the standouts for her fans. I'm betting none of those people praising the song have any idea what it's like to avoid the news for months on end, to have to get signed onto your new husband's will and decide who you want with you for support and help planning a funeral just in case, or to get a phone call like this:
Friend/family member/acquaintance/coworker/near stranger who has nothing better to do than try to freak me out: Hey! How are you?
Me: Good. Just working.
Caller: Yeah? ... Cool ...
Me: ... ... Yup. Pretty cool. [waiting] So, what are you doing?
Caller: Oh, nothing. Just thought I'd call and see if you're having a good day.
Me: Yup. Preeeetty standard.
Caller: Cool, cool. ... ... [clearing throat] So ... have you heard from K lately?
Me: Not lately lately. I talked to him a few days ago, and he told me he was going to call me last night, but since I didn't hear from him, I'm sure he's on a convoy or he was just exausted or something. I'm sure I'll hear from him tonight.
Caller: Yeah. ... ... Have you seen the news?
(The thing is, when K was in Afghanistan, I worked for the media. I had always seen the news. It was my job. And even though I knew that no news was good news -- that if anything happened, I'd know immediately -- it was not comforting or helpful at all to get phone calls like that. But still those calls came. They came as if I didn't know [x] number of troops were killed in [this] part of Afghanistan.)
It's hard enough to get through the days with your own worries at a time like that, so it's really uncool to have other people add a little more to your plate.
And it's really disappointing to think that my absolutely worst nightmare ever could be torturing me over and over on radio stations all over the country because some writer who clearly doesn't understand this is someone's horrible reality wanted to capitalize on the times.
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