Once again the South and the Military have conspired to make my life complicated. There's just something evil about Ft. Benning, GA. Husband's time there is going to be extended for training and he'll have some free time over the next week or two. We haven't gotten to see him in almost two months now, and the deployment is steadily creeping closer.
Today I booked a flight down south. Fuck it. I leave Thursday. It's expensive, I will be flying accross country with Gremlin on my lap, all kinds of Gremlin-gear, and a wee one in my squishy parts. For all of these reasons I don't want to go, but there is one reason leading me to be brave and that's the thought of getting to spend even just one week with the man I love.
There's so much more I could say but I'm tired and I probably won't be around much for the rest of the month. Have a good... whatever. And play nice.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
I Repent!
I was grumpy because I prefer to be alone sometimes. Husband is allowed in my space because he's alright to look at, Gremlin lived in my guts so she earned the right to hang out for about 18 years and eat my food... other than that? People = Ewww. Nothing personal.
The time with Ma-in-Law was very pleasant, Gremlin loved it. Our visit was cut short so now I can watch my 'R' rated movies and play my evil video games instead of like, talking. The Ma-in-Law is very conservative. I'm bored writing about it, so that could tell you something. Have a good night.
The time with Ma-in-Law was very pleasant, Gremlin loved it. Our visit was cut short so now I can watch my 'R' rated movies and play my evil video games instead of like, talking. The Ma-in-Law is very conservative. I'm bored writing about it, so that could tell you something. Have a good night.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Mommyknockers, mommyknockers...
Knockin at your door.
Well, husband is away at Air Assault School and his mother decided to show up for a visit. Of course she tells me it's because she wants to help out with the Gremlin, but I remain suspicious. Uh oh... don't look now but she's getting out of the shower.
I'm not alone.
I'll send for help from here if I need it.
Standby.
Well, husband is away at Air Assault School and his mother decided to show up for a visit. Of course she tells me it's because she wants to help out with the Gremlin, but I remain suspicious. Uh oh... don't look now but she's getting out of the shower.
I'm not alone.
I'll send for help from here if I need it.
Standby.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Dancing With the Fags
I know I just posted some shit about how I don’t watch TV blah, blah, blah… But I saw an advertisement for the season premiere off ‘Dancing With the Stars’ and my curiosity was peaked. I’ve never seen the show before, but what can I say? I am a female and I like to watch people dance in pretty sparkly outfits. I’m already kicking myself every time a commercial break starts and I remember why I hate people so much. Most of the people on the show would probably do the world a favor by combusting and fucking off to the great nothing. It’s a damn shame that I have to unplug my internet to get basic cable. But hey, I’m alone and I have nothing better to do. I suppose there are books, but reading makes me feel even lonelier.
I’m sure most of you know who Steve-o is. That nasty fucker from Jackass. He’s done so many disgusting things that I don’t even look at him as a fellow human being anymore. Tonight I have been swayed to change my mind on that, only a little. Steve-o was surprisingly attractive. The dude wore a pinstripe suit and danced pretty well. I just loved the combination of tattooed knuckles with a sharp looking suit. If I could kidnap Husband and get him slathered in ink I would. He doesn’t have anything against tattoos, just hasn’t thought of any that would be worth it. I’m surprised that Steve-o managed to harness some essence of sex appeal. He’s still kind of a nasty fag, though.
I won’t be watching the show again because it’s way too painful to expose myself to all the wasted human tissue being paraded in front of cameras for hundreds of thousands to millions of dollars. But I might check on YouTube for clips of Steve-o doing his thing. But the most likely outcome will be that I sleep on it and realize tomorrow how much I really don’t care about any of these people. Maybe some individuals need to idolize stars to give them something to fantasize about other than their pathetic lives, but I feel that the entertainment industry is an unnecessary evil. I would prefer it if actors and performers were kept on private compounds to keep all of their drama and drug use to themselves only to be allowed outside when someone needs them to play a part in a movie or sing a pretty song. A girl can only dream, I suppose.
I’m sure most of you know who Steve-o is. That nasty fucker from Jackass. He’s done so many disgusting things that I don’t even look at him as a fellow human being anymore. Tonight I have been swayed to change my mind on that, only a little. Steve-o was surprisingly attractive. The dude wore a pinstripe suit and danced pretty well. I just loved the combination of tattooed knuckles with a sharp looking suit. If I could kidnap Husband and get him slathered in ink I would. He doesn’t have anything against tattoos, just hasn’t thought of any that would be worth it. I’m surprised that Steve-o managed to harness some essence of sex appeal. He’s still kind of a nasty fag, though.
I won’t be watching the show again because it’s way too painful to expose myself to all the wasted human tissue being paraded in front of cameras for hundreds of thousands to millions of dollars. But I might check on YouTube for clips of Steve-o doing his thing. But the most likely outcome will be that I sleep on it and realize tomorrow how much I really don’t care about any of these people. Maybe some individuals need to idolize stars to give them something to fantasize about other than their pathetic lives, but I feel that the entertainment industry is an unnecessary evil. I would prefer it if actors and performers were kept on private compounds to keep all of their drama and drug use to themselves only to be allowed outside when someone needs them to play a part in a movie or sing a pretty song. A girl can only dream, I suppose.
Radio
Of all the places I've lived there has only been one location that has an amazing radio station. Most of the time I refuse to listen to the radio because 90% of the public has horrible taste in music. And I can't stand commercials. That's why we haven't purchased cable or needed a radio in our home in (nearly) five years of marriage. I’ll rent my TV shows and listen to music on my iPhone, all of which are completely in my control and commercial free. Well, I’d tell you the station that I’m talking about so you could check it out but then I’d be revealing my hometown. I was raised with a certain level of paranoia so I can’t help but expect some psycho to come and stalk me if I reveal too much.
This wonderful station that I've rediscovered via the internet still manages not to suck ass-cavities. Mostly because they still play Metallica as if the band were just recently discovered. They don’t treat it like they’re playing ‘oldies’ or ‘era’ music. Stations that do that are run by fags. The one benefit I see to listening to the radio is to keep up with new music that I might not have otherwise heard about. I remember when I was ten years old and the DJ’s would record people saying the name of the station in really funny or obnoxious ways. They’d keep the recordings and use them as their station advertisement for a while. I’ve always had a really unique talent for being able to belch louder and longer than any man or pig I’ve come across. In elementary school I would test my skills against the boys in the lunch line and I was ALWAYS the undisputed champion. It’s a wonder someone married me… Anyways, I called the station and the DJ told me to belt out a ----insert radio call sign----. I belched it out so fuckin’ loud that the DJ couldn’t stop laughing and I heard myself played on the radio for days after.
It’s also nice because I get really homesick and it’s fun to hear what’s going on in my hometown. Even though I’m going to be selfish and keep this station for my own, I would recommend going online and finding an old station that you use to love just to see how it’s fairing. This would be more for people who have had to live far from home for a long time.
This wonderful station that I've rediscovered via the internet still manages not to suck ass-cavities. Mostly because they still play Metallica as if the band were just recently discovered. They don’t treat it like they’re playing ‘oldies’ or ‘era’ music. Stations that do that are run by fags. The one benefit I see to listening to the radio is to keep up with new music that I might not have otherwise heard about. I remember when I was ten years old and the DJ’s would record people saying the name of the station in really funny or obnoxious ways. They’d keep the recordings and use them as their station advertisement for a while. I’ve always had a really unique talent for being able to belch louder and longer than any man or pig I’ve come across. In elementary school I would test my skills against the boys in the lunch line and I was ALWAYS the undisputed champion. It’s a wonder someone married me… Anyways, I called the station and the DJ told me to belt out a ----insert radio call sign----. I belched it out so fuckin’ loud that the DJ couldn’t stop laughing and I heard myself played on the radio for days after.
It’s also nice because I get really homesick and it’s fun to hear what’s going on in my hometown. Even though I’m going to be selfish and keep this station for my own, I would recommend going online and finding an old station that you use to love just to see how it’s fairing. This would be more for people who have had to live far from home for a long time.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Silly menfolk...
Is it mean for me to tell Husband that I'm going to start calling him 'Uncle' around the kids since he only comes home for a short amount of time? I grabbed Gremlin out of sweet slumber last night to go retrieve the man. She looked absolutely freaked to see mommy getting attacked by some man in the dark outside of the car. Then the strange man in the darkness swung the door open and swooped in to give her a kiss. She had a classic 'Who the fuck are you?' scowl and kept glancing at me to see if this was 'ok' behavior. I was peeping up over the driver's seat and beaming 'it's DADA!' and she thought mommy had forsaken her and all notion of sanity.
She hasn't gotten to see him today because she got all bitchy and had to go down for an early nap before Husband rolled out of bed. I thought he'd still be soaking up the comfort of his own bed even still, and he would be if he hadn't gotten a call from work. Apparently one of the younger guys that lives in the barracks got home to all of his shit not being there. So this poor soldier waits until a decent time of morning to call his PL (Husband) and tell him what happened. Apparently some low-life-douche-bag-soldier (the worst kind and I hate to talk shit about an American soldier but...) had stolen his flat screen TV, snowboard, Playstation3 and other high dollar items. The victims’ roommate was also away at NTC so no one was there to keep tabs on their shit. There's really nothing Husband can do except be there for this kid. Sure, it's taking away from our already limited family time, and this kid has no one else. Again, this brings me back to Husband's annoying 'Do the Right Thing' complex. But his men love him and most of them would throw themselves in front of a bullet for him.
But all is not nobility and selflessness on my part. I'm sick of people doing stupid shit that hampers my time with husband. For instance: right before all of the guys had to leave for NTC last month they were told not to drink after 5pm the night before they were to manifest. So one of Husband’s guys, a big fuckin’ Indian, decides he’s going to get nice and obliterated all the way up to 5pm. We’re all out at a casino watching the UFC fights for some guys’ birthday and Big Fuckin’ Indian starts grabbing at his chest and getting strange looks on his face. Then BFI wanders out into the casino lobby grabbing at his chest and passes the fuck out. Someone calls for an ambulance and guess who steps up to ride to post with BFI? Yep, Husband; which leaves me at the casino, pregnant and bored, to drive the birthday boy home when he’s had his fun. By around midnight I made my way to the Emergency room on post and find Husband sitting next to BFI passed out and snoring like a big red baby on the hospital bed. The doctors needed someone to be accountable for the soldier at all times so I stayed in the room while husband walked out to call someone from Staff Duty to come baby sit the dumbshit. Well, while I’m sitting by this guys’ bed he lets out a loud snore and rolls over. And of course the sheets roll with him and all of a sudden I’m seeing a lot more ass and tattoos than I’d ever meant to. So I end up sitting there awkwardly and averting my eyes and laughing to myself about the ridiculous situation when BFI starts to mumble and wake up.
I can’t help myself; I decide to fuck with this guy. He has no idea who I am or that I’m his platoon leader’s wife.
‘How’s it going, buddy?’
‘Hmmwah…?’
‘You feeling pretty good?’ He looks around the room trying to gauge his whereabouts. The ass has been covered by now. ‘You’re in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?’
‘I…unno… I only had a coupla beers…’ By now the doctors had already told me that his BAC was at a 3.something. Coupla beers? No fuckin’ way.
‘Really? Must have been some strong beer, friend. Oh, I’m Lt. Husband’s wife, he’s outside trying to make some calls.’
He was a really nice guy, and he was scared. The chest pains couldn’t be explained and the poor bastard was all kinds of sensitive about being thought of as just another drunken Indian. They kept him overnight for observation and Husband and I got home around 2am. The next day they all took off for NTC.
My message here is for all you soldiers out there to take care of yourselves, take care of each other, and stop interrupting my family time, goddammit!!!
She hasn't gotten to see him today because she got all bitchy and had to go down for an early nap before Husband rolled out of bed. I thought he'd still be soaking up the comfort of his own bed even still, and he would be if he hadn't gotten a call from work. Apparently one of the younger guys that lives in the barracks got home to all of his shit not being there. So this poor soldier waits until a decent time of morning to call his PL (Husband) and tell him what happened. Apparently some low-life-douche-bag-soldier (the worst kind and I hate to talk shit about an American soldier but...) had stolen his flat screen TV, snowboard, Playstation3 and other high dollar items. The victims’ roommate was also away at NTC so no one was there to keep tabs on their shit. There's really nothing Husband can do except be there for this kid. Sure, it's taking away from our already limited family time, and this kid has no one else. Again, this brings me back to Husband's annoying 'Do the Right Thing' complex. But his men love him and most of them would throw themselves in front of a bullet for him.
But all is not nobility and selflessness on my part. I'm sick of people doing stupid shit that hampers my time with husband. For instance: right before all of the guys had to leave for NTC last month they were told not to drink after 5pm the night before they were to manifest. So one of Husband’s guys, a big fuckin’ Indian, decides he’s going to get nice and obliterated all the way up to 5pm. We’re all out at a casino watching the UFC fights for some guys’ birthday and Big Fuckin’ Indian starts grabbing at his chest and getting strange looks on his face. Then BFI wanders out into the casino lobby grabbing at his chest and passes the fuck out. Someone calls for an ambulance and guess who steps up to ride to post with BFI? Yep, Husband; which leaves me at the casino, pregnant and bored, to drive the birthday boy home when he’s had his fun. By around midnight I made my way to the Emergency room on post and find Husband sitting next to BFI passed out and snoring like a big red baby on the hospital bed. The doctors needed someone to be accountable for the soldier at all times so I stayed in the room while husband walked out to call someone from Staff Duty to come baby sit the dumbshit. Well, while I’m sitting by this guys’ bed he lets out a loud snore and rolls over. And of course the sheets roll with him and all of a sudden I’m seeing a lot more ass and tattoos than I’d ever meant to. So I end up sitting there awkwardly and averting my eyes and laughing to myself about the ridiculous situation when BFI starts to mumble and wake up.
I can’t help myself; I decide to fuck with this guy. He has no idea who I am or that I’m his platoon leader’s wife.
‘How’s it going, buddy?’
‘Hmmwah…?’
‘You feeling pretty good?’ He looks around the room trying to gauge his whereabouts. The ass has been covered by now. ‘You’re in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?’
‘I…unno… I only had a coupla beers…’ By now the doctors had already told me that his BAC was at a 3.something. Coupla beers? No fuckin’ way.
‘Really? Must have been some strong beer, friend. Oh, I’m Lt. Husband’s wife, he’s outside trying to make some calls.’
He was a really nice guy, and he was scared. The chest pains couldn’t be explained and the poor bastard was all kinds of sensitive about being thought of as just another drunken Indian. They kept him overnight for observation and Husband and I got home around 2am. The next day they all took off for NTC.
My message here is for all you soldiers out there to take care of yourselves, take care of each other, and stop interrupting my family time, goddammit!!!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
There’s Good News, and Bad.
The good news is I finally shit for the first time in three days. No wait, that’s not what I was going to say…
The good news is Husband doesn’t leave before Beta Gremlin is spawned. I’ve been preparing myself for the probability that he would be deployed earlier than ‘They’ have been saying, but there is now a ‘solid’ date that we are going by. I say ‘solid’ because it’s the Army and nothing is ‘solid’ until it’s happening. The baby, if we can call it that, is due the end of June and Husband is due to leave towards the end of July. So he has less than one month to help me get back on my feet and bond with the boy.
The bad news is the baby is due in June and Husband is leaving in July.
The good news is Husband gets home tomorrow from being gone at NTC for a month.
The bad news is he leaves this Sunday for Georgia to go to Air Assualt School.
But the worst thing of all is that I just made so many cookies that I got five zits and gained ten pounds just from looking in the direction of my kitchen.
The good news is Husband doesn’t leave before Beta Gremlin is spawned. I’ve been preparing myself for the probability that he would be deployed earlier than ‘They’ have been saying, but there is now a ‘solid’ date that we are going by. I say ‘solid’ because it’s the Army and nothing is ‘solid’ until it’s happening. The baby, if we can call it that, is due the end of June and Husband is due to leave towards the end of July. So he has less than one month to help me get back on my feet and bond with the boy.
The bad news is the baby is due in June and Husband is leaving in July.
The good news is Husband gets home tomorrow from being gone at NTC for a month.
The bad news is he leaves this Sunday for Georgia to go to Air Assualt School.
But the worst thing of all is that I just made so many cookies that I got five zits and gained ten pounds just from looking in the direction of my kitchen.
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