I got to watch my hubby get pinned with his new rank this morning. The RDC did a great job at contacting me, as well as setting up and attending the VTC. I had to admit that I even need to send a thank you card to the lady I am not fond of for making sure that I was called and told about what time to show. A few of the RDC attended which was really nice since they were prepping to go off and do things I can't talk about. So all in all I am glad to see that as the deployment goes on they are improving in their response to family matters & emergency situations. Yeah to the RDC.
As for the promotion, I was actually tearing up. I didn't think I would but this is a major change for him now that he is midway through his career. He looked good and I am glad to see that everyone was is such a great mood. I worry about morale sometimes, because just like anyone I would become grumpy when shoved in the room with the same people day in and day out for almost a year. So it was nice to see some many people laughing, smiling and having a great time. I especially enjoyed listening to the hard Boston accent of one of the guys he works with - anything I could do to get him to say something with a hard "a" in it would make me giggle to no end.
So Hip, hip hooray to my hubby and his hard work. Everyone - Ms T, Sgt L, SSG H, Ms H, my brother and SSG S all say congrats on your promotion!!!
Monday, October 31, 2005
To the bat cave Bella!
This weather has been reeking havoc on me, I could not make it to work today because of a horrid sinus headache. I woke up with the feeling that Babar's ballerina cousin was doing a pirouette on my right side of my head. I called into the boss barely awake and feeling like garbage. I took the dog potty and crawled back into my darkened bedroom and slept like the dead.
I finally woke around noon, showered and dried my hair. The hot, hot shower helped a little bit along with another dose of Ranger Candy - AKA 800mg of Motrin. I went to the bank to pay the rent and to set up an automatic payment. Now I know why the husband never did it. They wanted more info than I had and didn't care at all that I didn't have it. I tried to call the landlord who had closed early because of All Saints day the next day. That didn't work so I left and try it again later. My klutz of a day continued with me dropping, crushing and spilling my milk shake all over my pants leg. Then later in the evening I spilled the container of gnocchi all over the floor, and attempted to beat that dog at picking them up before she could. I have never seen a dog move so fast in my life. I lost about 6 of them to her Hoover ability. The last of my klutz fits was me swirling the sauce all over the counter top.
I should have stayed in the bat cave! Asi es vida, no?
I finally woke around noon, showered and dried my hair. The hot, hot shower helped a little bit along with another dose of Ranger Candy - AKA 800mg of Motrin. I went to the bank to pay the rent and to set up an automatic payment. Now I know why the husband never did it. They wanted more info than I had and didn't care at all that I didn't have it. I tried to call the landlord who had closed early because of All Saints day the next day. That didn't work so I left and try it again later. My klutz of a day continued with me dropping, crushing and spilling my milk shake all over my pants leg. Then later in the evening I spilled the container of gnocchi all over the floor, and attempted to beat that dog at picking them up before she could. I have never seen a dog move so fast in my life. I lost about 6 of them to her Hoover ability. The last of my klutz fits was me swirling the sauce all over the counter top.
I should have stayed in the bat cave! Asi es vida, no?
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Call it for what it really is people
For a few weeks now my spouse has given me a heads up about "home visits" that the RDC is planning. They have been extremely vague about the how, the why and the when. On multiple occasions I have said to several folks that they will make an appointment if they wish to come to my house.
I haven't liked a majority of how this RDC functions so when someone says they are just going to show up at my house, I am not thrilled. It just seems like an excuse to see whose entitlements they can cut off for being out of country for more than 30 days.
We had an option this week to ask any open questions of the RDC, since I can't stand the RDC, HHC, Company Commander due to response or failure to respond to previous incidents, I politely asked the O5 about the home visits. When I requested that they make an appointment his face looked like I had asked him to kill someone. According to him by regulation he doesn't have to give me notice, this is a home visit. So under the guise of ensuring they can find my house in the event of casualty notification you are going to do what? Oh yes that's right they are actually making a health & welfare visit. I am familiar with these. My husband has had to make a couple of them during his career. H & W visits are normally made AFTER someone files a complaint that the dependents of a Service Member are somehow being neglected - dirty house, dirty kids, or other signs of neglect.
Needless to say I am quite perturbed that they are using the regulations of a H & W visit to show up unannounced but are claiming its to verify my address for casualty notification purposes. The next thing I posed to him was that I work outside the home, go to grad school at night and am never home. I do not need someone showing up unannounced, thinking I have left the country and killing entitlements from my spouse's paycheck. He assures me that this won't be the case since they "see my face" around and at FRG meetings. Let me tell you, if any entitlements are gone on any paycheck coming up shortly, I will be camping out in that man's office, raising kane like there's no tomorrow!
I also have no intention of being late to any class in order to let them in my house. If I am walking out the door then I will wave "hello" as I drive off to class. Otherwise they will need to show me a warrant, allow me to verify that a complaint about me abusing myself (the dog doesn't count as a dependent) has been filed so that an actual H & W visit is in order or take the time to just make a frickin' appointment!
I haven't liked a majority of how this RDC functions so when someone says they are just going to show up at my house, I am not thrilled. It just seems like an excuse to see whose entitlements they can cut off for being out of country for more than 30 days.
We had an option this week to ask any open questions of the RDC, since I can't stand the RDC, HHC, Company Commander due to response or failure to respond to previous incidents, I politely asked the O5 about the home visits. When I requested that they make an appointment his face looked like I had asked him to kill someone. According to him by regulation he doesn't have to give me notice, this is a home visit. So under the guise of ensuring they can find my house in the event of casualty notification you are going to do what? Oh yes that's right they are actually making a health & welfare visit. I am familiar with these. My husband has had to make a couple of them during his career. H & W visits are normally made AFTER someone files a complaint that the dependents of a Service Member are somehow being neglected - dirty house, dirty kids, or other signs of neglect.
Needless to say I am quite perturbed that they are using the regulations of a H & W visit to show up unannounced but are claiming its to verify my address for casualty notification purposes. The next thing I posed to him was that I work outside the home, go to grad school at night and am never home. I do not need someone showing up unannounced, thinking I have left the country and killing entitlements from my spouse's paycheck. He assures me that this won't be the case since they "see my face" around and at FRG meetings. Let me tell you, if any entitlements are gone on any paycheck coming up shortly, I will be camping out in that man's office, raising kane like there's no tomorrow!
I also have no intention of being late to any class in order to let them in my house. If I am walking out the door then I will wave "hello" as I drive off to class. Otherwise they will need to show me a warrant, allow me to verify that a complaint about me abusing myself (the dog doesn't count as a dependent) has been filed so that an actual H & W visit is in order or take the time to just make a frickin' appointment!
Not just a number
As the MSM & Moonbat (thanks to the Girl) tries to turn the death of 2,000 Service Members into some kind of stastical brick in the wall, I am reminded of the cost of war is not just the numbers, of those that have fallen but the effects on the living as well.
Sgt Z struggles with losing his humanity and the ability to see the humanity of his fellow man. He worries some about how he may deal with others once his time in Iraq is over. He's not sure that anyone can really understand what he has seen, done or been through - he just wants to be "normal again" if there really is such a thing.
Infantry Wife writes about the loss of a Widow. After several months of dealing with the loss of her husband in Iraq, the stress and the strain became too much for her and she took her life. Words can not even begin to describe how I upset I am over this – what a shameful loss of life, it’s just so sad to read about her pain and grief.
So let us remember that death is not just a number, not just a statistic to be used to further the cause or to be used as a weapon to hurtle at the current administration. The loss of life, the loss of those that have fallen are brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, daughters and sons – they are people damn it, living breathing people who had the courage, the strength and the pride in serving in the military of this nation and who were the ones that gave the ultimate sacrifice.
Sgt Z struggles with losing his humanity and the ability to see the humanity of his fellow man. He worries some about how he may deal with others once his time in Iraq is over. He's not sure that anyone can really understand what he has seen, done or been through - he just wants to be "normal again" if there really is such a thing.
Infantry Wife writes about the loss of a Widow. After several months of dealing with the loss of her husband in Iraq, the stress and the strain became too much for her and she took her life. Words can not even begin to describe how I upset I am over this – what a shameful loss of life, it’s just so sad to read about her pain and grief.
So let us remember that death is not just a number, not just a statistic to be used to further the cause or to be used as a weapon to hurtle at the current administration. The loss of life, the loss of those that have fallen are brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, daughters and sons – they are people damn it, living breathing people who had the courage, the strength and the pride in serving in the military of this nation and who were the ones that gave the ultimate sacrifice.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
New Skin
I am using a new skin but for some reason the month of October will not show quotation marks or other things that hang in the air. I will have to write the creator of this skin and see if I did something wrong while editing the HTML last night.
UPDATE: It has to do with where I compose my entries. I do most things in Word and then transfer it over. The template I use doesn't like it.
UPDATE: It has to do with where I compose my entries. I do most things in Word and then transfer it over. The template I use doesn't like it.
Lady Liberty
I have been trying to suppress, no contain my thoughts on missing my husband throughout this deployment. Not because I think I need to be some kind of Lady Liberty standing stolidly as a beckon for my husband's return but because pining incessantly will eventually keep me from functioning.
While making my rounds reading this morning, I ran across a nice simple post from Military Bride that best expresses what I have been thinking when it comes down to the separation of me and my spouse.
I can completely sympathize with her when she speaks about missing being able to share events as they happen. That is probably the hardest thing for me, is that I share everything with my spouse. He is the first to know the best gossip, the hard day at work or the great news.
We were friends (pen pals actually) before we became lovers and that bond makes it so easy for me to love him even over the miles. I have read or listened to stories of women who seem to not handle the stress and strain of deployment well. Some of them are separated only for a few months while their spouse is in boot camp and they fling the word divorce around like a pebble in a slingshot. Although I try to help them, I am quietly happy that our relationship is able to handle this trial in life; that we are able to maintain the strength for each other to lean on.
The thing that Erika said that struck me as the most profound, well inspiring was:
I could not agree with this statement more.
While making my rounds reading this morning, I ran across a nice simple post from Military Bride that best expresses what I have been thinking when it comes down to the separation of me and my spouse.
"The feeling of missing M is so common its presence is now just a part of my daily life - I have become numb throughout the deployment because I have had to...One emotion I have not become numb to is that of how much I love M. When you find a great love, nothing can make you forget how it makes you feel, and distance and time only add kindling to the flame."
I can completely sympathize with her when she speaks about missing being able to share events as they happen. That is probably the hardest thing for me, is that I share everything with my spouse. He is the first to know the best gossip, the hard day at work or the great news.
"...there is a year full of memories, of things that happened that I was not able to run right home and share with him, and it hurts, but if nothing else, it truly has shown me how unconditional our love for each other is."
We were friends (pen pals actually) before we became lovers and that bond makes it so easy for me to love him even over the miles. I have read or listened to stories of women who seem to not handle the stress and strain of deployment well. Some of them are separated only for a few months while their spouse is in boot camp and they fling the word divorce around like a pebble in a slingshot. Although I try to help them, I am quietly happy that our relationship is able to handle this trial in life; that we are able to maintain the strength for each other to lean on.
The thing that Erika said that struck me as the most profound, well inspiring was:
"I don ot love him because I need him; I need him because I love him."
I could not agree with this statement more.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Unplugged
Last night was the coolest and crappiest night I have had in class for quite a while. Thomas is an old school blackbelt. He was one of my first instructors when I went to the all adult class at the dojo. He is so serious and tough that both Ms. C & I have left class crying before when we were yellow or greenbelts. He's another one of those guys that believes in realism and doesn't let go unless you do it right and even then he still may ignore you. So when he showed up for class both Ms C & I were so totally excited. We were going to have a good class, a tough class and kick your arse class.
We went through our normal things, worked hard and towards the last twenty minutes of class, Thomas wanted us to work on basic breaks in a more real circumstance. With the monkey in the middle people attack you and you have to respond. Most folks were doing pretty well and seemed to be enjoying the fun. Then it comes to my turn, Thomas starts me off with a two man attack. I go to attack the man behind and shout "front first then back" and turn to back towards my front attacker and respond. I had no time to set up close my eyes before another attack comes, then a third. Thomas grabs me for the third attack and starts to pull me to the ground, I can't shake him off of me and my arms are pinned. As I start to go down his arms end up in my face so I "play bite" him. Most folks if you pretend will let go. He doesn't move his arm & continues to take me to the ground. I bite harder and he then moves enough for me to push him off, I land on my butt and then side kick from the ground towards his face. I just get stood up when someone grabs me from behind and lifts me off the ground. As I get swung around, I gently as possible kick the knees and shout "kick, kick, kick" in order for them to realize they need to let go. I then get hit from behind again, Thomas lifts me up, I kick, he sets me down but doesn't let go. In fact he starts to pull me backward, so I drop into a squat and attempt to push forward to get him to release. He holds on and finally gets my legs to collapse under me. So now we are at ground fighting which I haven't done in at least a year and a half. He's trying to pin my arms while he sits on my hips, pulls my hair and pokes me in the ribs – all the time laughing. He's waiting for me to get mad which isn't hard. I don't get mad as much as I get wild, not crazy but the adrenaline dumps and it all comes from instinct, from the repetitive actions we do in class, that muscle memory.
While I am being smacked about and poked, my mind clicks into gear just about the time he goes for his favourite choke. He loves to cross his arms using the right hand to grab the left collar of the gi and the left hand the right collar. Then you drop onto the chest of your opponent to get as low as possible, and flex your wrists. The flexing part is the choke and is doesn't take long for someone to tap out. I have two choices tap out or get out. So I pin in his right ankle, push up my hips as if I was doing a bridge without the arms and throw him off of me. We flip and I land in guard position – between his legs and automatically drop myself as low as I can, going right for the same choke he had me in. It's possible for him to throw me from here but I am so low its going to be hard, he will need to roll me, not throw me. We were told to release and I get one last attack again the grab from behind. I have sweat in my eyes, hair plastered to my face and I stomp like I should but my aim is off and I hit the guys foot. I turn to apologize and get attacked again mid apology. This is a double collar grab from behind so I do the standard catch up the arms and punch but the guys backing away like I am a crazy woman and I can't get near him.
Class finishes with a kicking drill and some stretches. T' whose foot I demolished comes up and gives me a hug. I feel so bad and look down to see that I actually drew blood. I can’t wear my glasses when I do these activities but with sweat, hair, poor vision and adrenaline pumping I screwed up and killed his foot. I feel horrid for that but he seems like it was okay. I didn’t mean to but my vision is poor aim wise without my glasses.
The guy who backed away with the fear in his eyes said I was looking "unplugged." I am not sure if that meant out of control crazy or that I wasn't backing down where most girls would have given in by then. I know that when I get angry folks have said my eyes turn black so maybe I looked scary but I can't help but worry what the hell unplugged was supposed to mean.
We went through our normal things, worked hard and towards the last twenty minutes of class, Thomas wanted us to work on basic breaks in a more real circumstance. With the monkey in the middle people attack you and you have to respond. Most folks were doing pretty well and seemed to be enjoying the fun. Then it comes to my turn, Thomas starts me off with a two man attack. I go to attack the man behind and shout "front first then back" and turn to back towards my front attacker and respond. I had no time to set up close my eyes before another attack comes, then a third. Thomas grabs me for the third attack and starts to pull me to the ground, I can't shake him off of me and my arms are pinned. As I start to go down his arms end up in my face so I "play bite" him. Most folks if you pretend will let go. He doesn't move his arm & continues to take me to the ground. I bite harder and he then moves enough for me to push him off, I land on my butt and then side kick from the ground towards his face. I just get stood up when someone grabs me from behind and lifts me off the ground. As I get swung around, I gently as possible kick the knees and shout "kick, kick, kick" in order for them to realize they need to let go. I then get hit from behind again, Thomas lifts me up, I kick, he sets me down but doesn't let go. In fact he starts to pull me backward, so I drop into a squat and attempt to push forward to get him to release. He holds on and finally gets my legs to collapse under me. So now we are at ground fighting which I haven't done in at least a year and a half. He's trying to pin my arms while he sits on my hips, pulls my hair and pokes me in the ribs – all the time laughing. He's waiting for me to get mad which isn't hard. I don't get mad as much as I get wild, not crazy but the adrenaline dumps and it all comes from instinct, from the repetitive actions we do in class, that muscle memory.
While I am being smacked about and poked, my mind clicks into gear just about the time he goes for his favourite choke. He loves to cross his arms using the right hand to grab the left collar of the gi and the left hand the right collar. Then you drop onto the chest of your opponent to get as low as possible, and flex your wrists. The flexing part is the choke and is doesn't take long for someone to tap out. I have two choices tap out or get out. So I pin in his right ankle, push up my hips as if I was doing a bridge without the arms and throw him off of me. We flip and I land in guard position – between his legs and automatically drop myself as low as I can, going right for the same choke he had me in. It's possible for him to throw me from here but I am so low its going to be hard, he will need to roll me, not throw me. We were told to release and I get one last attack again the grab from behind. I have sweat in my eyes, hair plastered to my face and I stomp like I should but my aim is off and I hit the guys foot. I turn to apologize and get attacked again mid apology. This is a double collar grab from behind so I do the standard catch up the arms and punch but the guys backing away like I am a crazy woman and I can't get near him.
Class finishes with a kicking drill and some stretches. T' whose foot I demolished comes up and gives me a hug. I feel so bad and look down to see that I actually drew blood. I can’t wear my glasses when I do these activities but with sweat, hair, poor vision and adrenaline pumping I screwed up and killed his foot. I feel horrid for that but he seems like it was okay. I didn’t mean to but my vision is poor aim wise without my glasses.
The guy who backed away with the fear in his eyes said I was looking "unplugged." I am not sure if that meant out of control crazy or that I wasn't backing down where most girls would have given in by then. I know that when I get angry folks have said my eyes turn black so maybe I looked scary but I can't help but worry what the hell unplugged was supposed to mean.
Friday, October 21, 2005
D'here's a rat in me kitchen, what I'm a gonna do....
...I’m gonna fix that rat!
In my 33 (almost 34) years of life I have learned that when you do talk crap or complain about management you be selective with whom you talk with. The less people you involve the less people you have to gentle question about who opened their big fat mouth in order to find the leak. Being a fairly smart girl when complaining about the issues the troll gives me, I only spoke to three people: The Lead (who will send me up a creek without a paddle), the co-worker (who complained with me) & the person I asked to put in a good word for me.
Yesterday morning I came to work and was smacked in the face with some issues that ticked the troll off. I was chastised for talking to the "good word" girl & a division chief for showing interest in participating in career enhancing duties. That I won’t be sorry for nor will I back down that I did not do a damn thing wrong on that. Networking and showing interest in things like new duties or special projects is not something to be sorry for regardless of how you may think you were backdoored because of it.
The other issue was or could be considered a little on the backdoor side. I had also asked the "good word" girl if she knew about the makeup/structure of a class I was going to where the troll told me that only senior members could go the first day. Okay so I was a little wicked on this, but if you don't trust your boss most people would have done the same thing. So I apologized on this issue and this issue alone.
Well besides me telling her to her face that I don't trust her and she’s unfair (provided samples), I told her that she needed to open her eyes and see that these 2 faults she keeps claiming I have don’t frickin' exist anymore. I asked for examples of where they still existed and she only listed one mistake that was a click box error. Out of a whole year one mistake, (roll eyes) that's all she could find. Where I sat there and provided example after example where these previous faults had been remidied quite well.
To get back to the rat here, while being utterly pissed off that I was called to carpet for two stupid things and one semi-valid issue I realized that only two people knew of all three events – The Co-worker & that Benedict Arnold of a Lead. "Et tu Brute?" After all this crap about how she has to be confidential because of her employee relations experience she sold me out. After all the help I offered her on personal issues, I was bent over a barrel and take guess what happened next.
So this wedge of cheese will not be gnawed on by the rat again that’s for bloody sure! Below the radar is where I will stay. As for the troll she said she wanted to see my accomplishments before deciding my final appraisal score. Apparently she didn't know that I had spent as much time as I did training five other people this year on various projects. So with a little help from someone outside the office, my accomplishments will be so kick ass that everyone else can just drop dead.
In my 33 (almost 34) years of life I have learned that when you do talk crap or complain about management you be selective with whom you talk with. The less people you involve the less people you have to gentle question about who opened their big fat mouth in order to find the leak. Being a fairly smart girl when complaining about the issues the troll gives me, I only spoke to three people: The Lead (who will send me up a creek without a paddle), the co-worker (who complained with me) & the person I asked to put in a good word for me.
Yesterday morning I came to work and was smacked in the face with some issues that ticked the troll off. I was chastised for talking to the "good word" girl & a division chief for showing interest in participating in career enhancing duties. That I won’t be sorry for nor will I back down that I did not do a damn thing wrong on that. Networking and showing interest in things like new duties or special projects is not something to be sorry for regardless of how you may think you were backdoored because of it.
The other issue was or could be considered a little on the backdoor side. I had also asked the "good word" girl if she knew about the makeup/structure of a class I was going to where the troll told me that only senior members could go the first day. Okay so I was a little wicked on this, but if you don't trust your boss most people would have done the same thing. So I apologized on this issue and this issue alone.
Well besides me telling her to her face that I don't trust her and she’s unfair (provided samples), I told her that she needed to open her eyes and see that these 2 faults she keeps claiming I have don’t frickin' exist anymore. I asked for examples of where they still existed and she only listed one mistake that was a click box error. Out of a whole year one mistake, (roll eyes) that's all she could find. Where I sat there and provided example after example where these previous faults had been remidied quite well.
To get back to the rat here, while being utterly pissed off that I was called to carpet for two stupid things and one semi-valid issue I realized that only two people knew of all three events – The Co-worker & that Benedict Arnold of a Lead. "Et tu Brute?" After all this crap about how she has to be confidential because of her employee relations experience she sold me out. After all the help I offered her on personal issues, I was bent over a barrel and take guess what happened next.
So this wedge of cheese will not be gnawed on by the rat again that’s for bloody sure! Below the radar is where I will stay. As for the troll she said she wanted to see my accomplishments before deciding my final appraisal score. Apparently she didn't know that I had spent as much time as I did training five other people this year on various projects. So with a little help from someone outside the office, my accomplishments will be so kick ass that everyone else can just drop dead.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Opsala!
While messing around with templates yesterday I didn't make a backup and lost all my links. It's midterms for me this weekend so it will take a while for me to replace the materials.
Sorry for destorying my own stuff.....man I really wish is was June 06 right about now.
Sorry for destorying my own stuff.....man I really wish is was June 06 right about now.
Good for a Chuckle
Hmm while reviewing resumes today for a position I am trying to fill, I quickly skimmed across a line that made me chuckle:
"West Catholic Boys" It is the name of the high school the gentleman went to, but it just sounds perfect for a band name. I started thinking about the Red Hot Chilie Peppers song Catholic School Girls Rule. That led to School of Rock (Which I just bought) and I started to chuckle. It really sounds like a great punk band name.
.....Ladies and gentlemen let me introduce the West Catholic Boys......
"West Catholic Boys" It is the name of the high school the gentleman went to, but it just sounds perfect for a band name. I started thinking about the Red Hot Chilie Peppers song Catholic School Girls Rule. That led to School of Rock (Which I just bought) and I started to chuckle. It really sounds like a great punk band name.
.....Ladies and gentlemen let me introduce the West Catholic Boys......
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Not all colours are created equal
Sometimes you have just got to laugh at things that women notice before men will. Have you ever noticed that most men will say that something is purple but a woman would say it's periwinkle, lavender, grape, or royal purple?
I was finishing up my ToolGirl duties in the kitchen replacing the outlets and face plates with this brushed stainless steel look as it looks better than the cream ones that were on there. I also hung a paper towel holder under the cabinet and put up a hook on the wall for the pot holders. Short of hanging one last painted window frame I am pretty much done with any major work in this house.
Using the drill to put up the hook, I used too much torque and made a little hole in the wall. Like any other mistake I've made, I grab the spackel for plaster walls, fill in the hole and smooth it down with a trowel. About 30 minutes later I paint it and no one is the wiser. Well after spackeling the wall I go about changing the other things around waiting for it to dry. Here's where I have to laugh - everywhere and I mean everywhere in the house is white paint. It's the same white paint that I used to touch up nicks, holes and other messes that I, the hubby or a mover made. After stirring the paint, I take a small amount on the brush and go over the spackel spot. It doesn't look quite right but I figured it was night, the lighting, it's wet, etc. Nope, I am wrong its not the same white. The white in the rest of the house is a warm white, a winter white with just a hint of yellow in it. My kitchen is a cool white, snow white, or bright white. So now I have a 6x6 inch blob of warm white paint in my bright white kitchen.
I will be hitting the hardware store this weekend (after finishing my midterms) and using my trusty dictionary will attempt to find just good old "white" paint.
I was finishing up my ToolGirl duties in the kitchen replacing the outlets and face plates with this brushed stainless steel look as it looks better than the cream ones that were on there. I also hung a paper towel holder under the cabinet and put up a hook on the wall for the pot holders. Short of hanging one last painted window frame I am pretty much done with any major work in this house.
Using the drill to put up the hook, I used too much torque and made a little hole in the wall. Like any other mistake I've made, I grab the spackel for plaster walls, fill in the hole and smooth it down with a trowel. About 30 minutes later I paint it and no one is the wiser. Well after spackeling the wall I go about changing the other things around waiting for it to dry. Here's where I have to laugh - everywhere and I mean everywhere in the house is white paint. It's the same white paint that I used to touch up nicks, holes and other messes that I, the hubby or a mover made. After stirring the paint, I take a small amount on the brush and go over the spackel spot. It doesn't look quite right but I figured it was night, the lighting, it's wet, etc. Nope, I am wrong its not the same white. The white in the rest of the house is a warm white, a winter white with just a hint of yellow in it. My kitchen is a cool white, snow white, or bright white. So now I have a 6x6 inch blob of warm white paint in my bright white kitchen.
I will be hitting the hardware store this weekend (after finishing my midterms) and using my trusty dictionary will attempt to find just good old "white" paint.
Monday, October 17, 2005
I am such a heel
I am a heel, an ass & a dirty fighter. My officemate, the one that said if her performance appraisal was on the line for my work that she'd sell me down the river without hesitation - well I've been listening to her all morning give out the wrong information for a problem to resolve. She is violating a few people's rights with her bad information but since she is supposed to know more than I and be the 'lead' then I am keeping my mouth shut. I will let her hang herself on it. At the moment with officemates that live on planet "look at me look at me," and a troll for a boss; I will let just about anyone hang themselves except for two people who have done no wrong and don't deserve me going to the mattresses with them.
Part of me feels guilty about letting this slide as innocent people aren't getting the consideration they have rights to, but part of me says if you are going to be "large and in charge" and behave some what the ass about it then I guess you should know better and don't need my help.
I am extremely loyal to friends and my family. I am even loyal to a good boss. I will give you the shirt off my back, even to perfect strangers. I would run through the fires of hell when it comes to children. But, when it comes down to brass tacks and you've crossed me enough times then I am evil, just pure evil. I will not lend a hand, I will not intervene, I will watch you trip, fall, raise an eyebrow and a slight smile; then go back to what I was doing.
My Buddhist studies have made it hard for me to do this, to behave this way without pulling a truckload of guilt behind me, but the Caveman in me says that I must do what I must to survive. How many more months left until we PCS?
Part of me feels guilty about letting this slide as innocent people aren't getting the consideration they have rights to, but part of me says if you are going to be "large and in charge" and behave some what the ass about it then I guess you should know better and don't need my help.
I am extremely loyal to friends and my family. I am even loyal to a good boss. I will give you the shirt off my back, even to perfect strangers. I would run through the fires of hell when it comes to children. But, when it comes down to brass tacks and you've crossed me enough times then I am evil, just pure evil. I will not lend a hand, I will not intervene, I will watch you trip, fall, raise an eyebrow and a slight smile; then go back to what I was doing.
My Buddhist studies have made it hard for me to do this, to behave this way without pulling a truckload of guilt behind me, but the Caveman in me says that I must do what I must to survive. How many more months left until we PCS?
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Holiday help for Soldiers Angels
I just wanted to put a reminder out there about Soldier's Angels. I contacted Willie a few months back asking how I can help Soldier's Angels here in Germany. I live only twenty minutes from Landstuhl and thought I could give time if nothing else. Unfortunately, I think I scared her away when I said I blog anonomously after she asked about my blog entry she found.
Either way folks if you can donate this is definately the time of year to do so. Here in Germany the weather is getting colder so donations of: Sweatshirts, gloves, hats, sweaters or warm clothing is in need.
BLACKFIVE also has a post on providing some holiday cheer as well. If I could find one of those crazy Ardvark Jackets from "Better off Dead", I'd probably run around wearing it to try and make a few soldiers laugh.
I know our own families require attention too but please if you can donate to Soldier's Angels or for Soldiers Angels here in Germany. Every little bit helps especially for those that are separated from their families during the upcoming holiday season.
Either way folks if you can donate this is definately the time of year to do so. Here in Germany the weather is getting colder so donations of: Sweatshirts, gloves, hats, sweaters or warm clothing is in need.
BLACKFIVE also has a post on providing some holiday cheer as well. If I could find one of those crazy Ardvark Jackets from "Better off Dead", I'd probably run around wearing it to try and make a few soldiers laugh.
I know our own families require attention too but please if you can donate to Soldier's Angels or for Soldiers Angels here in Germany. Every little bit helps especially for those that are separated from their families during the upcoming holiday season.
When is a kitchen not a kitchen?
When the damn thing isn't finished...I was the last person of the 5 houses to have the kitchen replaced. I had delivery people coming on Colmbus day and I asked if he could have them rip out the kitchen later in the day - they came Tuesday instead.
When I came home on Wednesday they were just laying the grout. What they did all day on Wednesday is beyond me but I will assume that they were messing about in the other kitchens and got behind schedule. With the grout the way it was they couldn't paint until Thursday morning. Their painting skills were shoddy - no I will just say it - not shoddy but shitty. Paint splatter was all over the wall tiles I spent 40 minutes cleaning the day before, all over the floor tiles the one guy just put in, and they even managed to splatter the brand new light fixture I put in with my neighbor's help. So with a wet rag & a razor blade I scraped the undesirable paint off of everywhere it didn't belong.
I came home Thursday afternoon to see that about 1/2 of the kitchen fixtures were in place. They don't work late here - they quit at 1530 on the nose. I made notice of some problems and missing items and asked my neighbor for a translation help. I then called the Landlord's daughter. She wasn't there, I talked to her husband who promptly shoved me over to the Landlord. Remember this guy's German is a bizaare mixture of the local dialect, a Caribbean German dialect and French so talking to him is like talking to someone who only speaks Chinese. The gist of what was said was that he would inspect the place before the workers left on Friday.
Friday I get home as soon as possible. There's a workman sitting on my front porch smoking. At least they don'd smoke in my house. He explains the missing fridge stuff, the cabinet that moves, and the drawer that comes later. He also explained that the dishwasher has no electricity. In comes the Landlord who then explains to me all the same thing again. Okay what ever, I get the workman but really don't get him. He tells me the Son in Law will be over later or Saturday morning to finish the wiring. I later find out that they didn't hook up the exhaust fan either. This means I still can't cook, unless they want me messing up the crap paint job with cooking grease, fumes, and moisture.
Friday evening and all day Saturday have come and gone with no appearance by the Son in Law. I bought new face plates for the kitchen to make them a light matte silver colour and asked my neighbor if I got all the right parts. Come to find out Son in Law has spent all day Friday & Saturday "playing" with a new toy of his - a new truck. It's a delivery truck. He decided that decking it out with all the shevles, hooks and all the bells & whistles was more important than finishing up the last damn kitchen.
So I call today on the Daughter's line, someone else answers. I am not dumb and even in German if you repeat everything outloud you are saying it so that the other people in the room can hear. The Daughter dodged the call and made the lady transfer me to the Landlord. I again asked when the SIL was coming as he never showed. According to him he will be here tonight. I really like the nice dodge there - she may be mad at daddy for having the hubby do the electrical but don't offer to assist talking to daddy if you don't meant it. Otherwise hey, no problem I will just call Housing and really piss everyone off.
Who wants to learn the dirty little swear words that I know in German? Lets see how many my Landlord knows too.
When I came home on Wednesday they were just laying the grout. What they did all day on Wednesday is beyond me but I will assume that they were messing about in the other kitchens and got behind schedule. With the grout the way it was they couldn't paint until Thursday morning. Their painting skills were shoddy - no I will just say it - not shoddy but shitty. Paint splatter was all over the wall tiles I spent 40 minutes cleaning the day before, all over the floor tiles the one guy just put in, and they even managed to splatter the brand new light fixture I put in with my neighbor's help. So with a wet rag & a razor blade I scraped the undesirable paint off of everywhere it didn't belong.
I came home Thursday afternoon to see that about 1/2 of the kitchen fixtures were in place. They don't work late here - they quit at 1530 on the nose. I made notice of some problems and missing items and asked my neighbor for a translation help. I then called the Landlord's daughter. She wasn't there, I talked to her husband who promptly shoved me over to the Landlord. Remember this guy's German is a bizaare mixture of the local dialect, a Caribbean German dialect and French so talking to him is like talking to someone who only speaks Chinese. The gist of what was said was that he would inspect the place before the workers left on Friday.
Friday I get home as soon as possible. There's a workman sitting on my front porch smoking. At least they don'd smoke in my house. He explains the missing fridge stuff, the cabinet that moves, and the drawer that comes later. He also explained that the dishwasher has no electricity. In comes the Landlord who then explains to me all the same thing again. Okay what ever, I get the workman but really don't get him. He tells me the Son in Law will be over later or Saturday morning to finish the wiring. I later find out that they didn't hook up the exhaust fan either. This means I still can't cook, unless they want me messing up the crap paint job with cooking grease, fumes, and moisture.
Friday evening and all day Saturday have come and gone with no appearance by the Son in Law. I bought new face plates for the kitchen to make them a light matte silver colour and asked my neighbor if I got all the right parts. Come to find out Son in Law has spent all day Friday & Saturday "playing" with a new toy of his - a new truck. It's a delivery truck. He decided that decking it out with all the shevles, hooks and all the bells & whistles was more important than finishing up the last damn kitchen.
So I call today on the Daughter's line, someone else answers. I am not dumb and even in German if you repeat everything outloud you are saying it so that the other people in the room can hear. The Daughter dodged the call and made the lady transfer me to the Landlord. I again asked when the SIL was coming as he never showed. According to him he will be here tonight. I really like the nice dodge there - she may be mad at daddy for having the hubby do the electrical but don't offer to assist talking to daddy if you don't meant it. Otherwise hey, no problem I will just call Housing and really piss everyone off.
Who wants to learn the dirty little swear words that I know in German? Lets see how many my Landlord knows too.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Darwin in the workplace
It's late and I have decided that with work being a bit of the survival of the fittest it is better to beg for forgiveness from the troll than to ask permission. I have been trying to take a course for almost two years now. Since the course is not part of my main duties I have pretty much been denied every single time. Basically I have a snowball's chance in hell to get the class.
In my wisdom I saw another class two weeks apart from my longshot and asked to sign up for it. The troll said to wait it out as others need to take classes and they are both in March. Well since I know (and so does the troll) that there is a 95% chance I WON'T get the class, it's her excuse to not have to send me to the other one. I decided to play dirty. She said not to sign up for both classes and earlier in the day I mentioned I would drop the first class to take the other but got no response. Well she didn't say no, so I took the initiative and dropped the first course and signed up for the second.
I followed her directions by not signing up for both courses at the same time, but will end up taking a course that I know I will actually get into. How stupid does she think I am anyways?
In my wisdom I saw another class two weeks apart from my longshot and asked to sign up for it. The troll said to wait it out as others need to take classes and they are both in March. Well since I know (and so does the troll) that there is a 95% chance I WON'T get the class, it's her excuse to not have to send me to the other one. I decided to play dirty. She said not to sign up for both classes and earlier in the day I mentioned I would drop the first class to take the other but got no response. Well she didn't say no, so I took the initiative and dropped the first course and signed up for the second.
I followed her directions by not signing up for both courses at the same time, but will end up taking a course that I know I will actually get into. How stupid does she think I am anyways?
I TOLD you it wasn't the dog
Found out yesterday that my housekeeper has fired her assistant. This is the one that I swear up and down took my booze and blamed it on the dog (okay well I did that but it was rather funny thougt wise). Apparently the assistant had been slacking in her duties and not only did I complain but several others complained as well. She also spent more time smoking (and leaving the frickin' butts in my yard) than she did cleaning.
THe last two visits have shown a marked improvedment in the quality of cleaning & that's because Ms. C has a new asisstant, who actually likes her job.
I guess I can tell Bella that she isn't barred from the liquor cabinet anymore - LOL!
THe last two visits have shown a marked improvedment in the quality of cleaning & that's because Ms. C has a new asisstant, who actually likes her job.
I guess I can tell Bella that she isn't barred from the liquor cabinet anymore - LOL!
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Giving up my day job
I should give up my day job! Not because I caught my boss in a bold face lie (in writing no less - Can we say blackmail?) but because I think I need to buy a tool belt and join Tim Allen. If I could figure out how to write the noise Tim makes while doing something cool I would – I am that good at home improvement projects!
On Monday literally at the crack of dawn two delivery men showed with my new schrank, coffee table, end tables and curio cabinet. My husband and I had been saving for over a year for it and finally ½ of my order had arrived. The other half was stained the wrong colour and will arrive sometime in December. I watched the guys put it together and asked questions about drawer releases so that when we move it can be taken apart and crated. They brought their own hole saw so I had them cut a few holes for the cables that I will need to run later. Their final act was to level the schrank. I asked them to keep it away from the wall for now so I could slip behind it later and run cables. As a kind person that I am I sent them off with two cans of Coke each since I have no kitchen at the moment for coffee.
The next task was putting all the entertainment components into the new schrank. I found out quite quickly that the schrank was too close to the wall for me to fit behind, so all the cables would need to be pulled from the front. That and frankly being that flattened behind a 10 foot long schrank with my fear of tight spaces started to make my eye twitch. What did I do? Easy, I grabbed a wire coat hanger and fastened it into a hook. I used it to grab cables from the back and pull them through as well as stringing the cables for the satellite to the wall outlet. Again this goes back to my awesome dad who made me pull wire at job sites when I was a kid.
The other super MacGyver thing I did was to label all my cables. Smart, smart girl as I knew which one was for what when I had my head shoved into small openings and was totally pressed for space. This is not a daddy’s cool thing but my anal retentiveness coming out to shine in all it’s glory.
The last thing I had to do was get the big ol’ honking TV into its new home. We haven’t gone to a flatscreen yet because this TV is only 4 years old. I called my neighbor to send her husband over when he got home and had a chance to relax. In the meantime I went to dinner. Sadly, after half a large margarita I had to stop drinking otherwise I’d be calling a taxi. My neighbor wasn't home from work yet and I became impatient - I wanted to finish the install so I could relax. So with liquid courage running through my veins I decided to lift the TV myself. Here I am with a floor length skirt pulled up around my bum, barefoot and ready to deadlift like an Olympic weightlifter; I hike the TV up onto the shelf and manage to pull the cord out from underneath. Yeah, I am Woman hear me roar!
I of course had to test out the new configuration of our speakers and to make sure all of the connections were good. After checking the satellite systems I went ahead and put in The Chronicles of Riddick. I like this movie because I want the yoked shoulders of Vin Diesel. Not personally on me, but just to look at and drool over – no wonder my friend said I needed to get laid and if R&R for my spouse was anytime soon. I am a nut for jonesin’ over Vin Diesel’s shoulders
UPDATE: This morning, I am feeling the results of my liquid courage. My back is killing me on my right side. I guess I will have to down a little Ibuprofen today for being such a supergirl/crazy fool.
On Monday literally at the crack of dawn two delivery men showed with my new schrank, coffee table, end tables and curio cabinet. My husband and I had been saving for over a year for it and finally ½ of my order had arrived. The other half was stained the wrong colour and will arrive sometime in December. I watched the guys put it together and asked questions about drawer releases so that when we move it can be taken apart and crated. They brought their own hole saw so I had them cut a few holes for the cables that I will need to run later. Their final act was to level the schrank. I asked them to keep it away from the wall for now so I could slip behind it later and run cables. As a kind person that I am I sent them off with two cans of Coke each since I have no kitchen at the moment for coffee.
The next task was putting all the entertainment components into the new schrank. I found out quite quickly that the schrank was too close to the wall for me to fit behind, so all the cables would need to be pulled from the front. That and frankly being that flattened behind a 10 foot long schrank with my fear of tight spaces started to make my eye twitch. What did I do? Easy, I grabbed a wire coat hanger and fastened it into a hook. I used it to grab cables from the back and pull them through as well as stringing the cables for the satellite to the wall outlet. Again this goes back to my awesome dad who made me pull wire at job sites when I was a kid.
The other super MacGyver thing I did was to label all my cables. Smart, smart girl as I knew which one was for what when I had my head shoved into small openings and was totally pressed for space. This is not a daddy’s cool thing but my anal retentiveness coming out to shine in all it’s glory.
The last thing I had to do was get the big ol’ honking TV into its new home. We haven’t gone to a flatscreen yet because this TV is only 4 years old. I called my neighbor to send her husband over when he got home and had a chance to relax. In the meantime I went to dinner. Sadly, after half a large margarita I had to stop drinking otherwise I’d be calling a taxi. My neighbor wasn't home from work yet and I became impatient - I wanted to finish the install so I could relax. So with liquid courage running through my veins I decided to lift the TV myself. Here I am with a floor length skirt pulled up around my bum, barefoot and ready to deadlift like an Olympic weightlifter; I hike the TV up onto the shelf and manage to pull the cord out from underneath. Yeah, I am Woman hear me roar!
I of course had to test out the new configuration of our speakers and to make sure all of the connections were good. After checking the satellite systems I went ahead and put in The Chronicles of Riddick. I like this movie because I want the yoked shoulders of Vin Diesel. Not personally on me, but just to look at and drool over – no wonder my friend said I needed to get laid and if R&R for my spouse was anytime soon. I am a nut for jonesin’ over Vin Diesel’s shoulders
UPDATE: This morning, I am feeling the results of my liquid courage. My back is killing me on my right side. I guess I will have to down a little Ibuprofen today for being such a supergirl/crazy fool.
Friday, October 07, 2005
Another side of Moonbat..I mean Cindy
Man I hadn't seen this cartoon before. It really struck me in a way of not only being funny but also as I continue to read about her antics, her little media circus I just see more and more truth in the cartoon. This has gone past the grieving mother to borderline repulsive for me.
The one thing I see and maybe others don't or I am just seeing because I want to but if you look at the shadow of the director notice who his shape is like? Yep, it's the perfect shape of Micheal Moore.
The one thing I see and maybe others don't or I am just seeing because I want to but if you look at the shadow of the director notice who his shape is like? Yep, it's the perfect shape of Micheal Moore.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Surprisingly quiet about this
I was surprised that the blogsphere didn't make much of this incident. Most women of Islam are not so out there. By "out there" I don't mean someone who is a little daft but that most women are not in the forefront of things - they appear to be the ones that to do so much more of behind the scenes kind of work. In a patriarchal religion, I was surprised at the fact that instead of being used as a shield a woman purposefully strapped explosives to herself and attempted to make a statement via suicide.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Ring around the rosie....
...Pockets full of posies...ashes...ashes, we all fall down. I have been watching a storm front rise at the workplace. A storm that seems to be turning into one very interesting little game. My boss and I have never really been the "best" of friends for quite a while. I don't really like her management style. When you are willing to talk about your subordinates in a snotty fashion to other subordinates without caring that it might not be a wise idea - that's usually a sign of a questionable manager. If it serves to her benefit, she doesn't care how you go about getting it done as long as you make her look good - sadly this means even if you step all over your own team members.
Recently another officemate and I have been talking to one of the team leads about this cat and mouse game where the favourites get to run amok and the rest of us get held tightly against a very thin line. She didn't believe us at first and then we started point out example after example. She also felt the brunt of it herself on a few occasions and finally admitted that things are not fair as far as treatment of others is concerned.
Then Tuesday hits & all hell breaks loose. I hate to be micromanaged, and the team lead started being quite pesky about my workload and was being insistent on seeing what I had (while I was working on a time sensitive item) I became aggravated and threw the drawer open, thumbing in the direction of the drawer that my work could be found there. I was grouchy but nothing that couldn't be blown off. Later in the day me and the boss had a little meeting of the minds where all we did was clash. I have done something that has made her unable to see anything but my mistakes. I could give birth to the new Messiah for the second coming of Christ and I would still be a dirtbag by her standard.
I am trying to be good but the room atmosphere has changed. All of a sudden I am treated as the idiot, halfwit again and she is the "big boss wannabe." She must keep me at the supervisor/employee distance for what ever stupid reason the boss put in her head. I can see that something of a threatening or fearful nature was shoved into her lap so she's going to cover her butt even if that means sending mine down the river! The team lead straight up told me later in the day that she was getting shafted for not doing her job so now she has to crawl up my butt as a part of her daily duties. Because the little Troll (now dubbed) has to micromanage in order to look good so do the team leads.
Great so now I am dealing with two trolls instead of one, except this one is taller.
Recently another officemate and I have been talking to one of the team leads about this cat and mouse game where the favourites get to run amok and the rest of us get held tightly against a very thin line. She didn't believe us at first and then we started point out example after example. She also felt the brunt of it herself on a few occasions and finally admitted that things are not fair as far as treatment of others is concerned.
Then Tuesday hits & all hell breaks loose. I hate to be micromanaged, and the team lead started being quite pesky about my workload and was being insistent on seeing what I had (while I was working on a time sensitive item) I became aggravated and threw the drawer open, thumbing in the direction of the drawer that my work could be found there. I was grouchy but nothing that couldn't be blown off. Later in the day me and the boss had a little meeting of the minds where all we did was clash. I have done something that has made her unable to see anything but my mistakes. I could give birth to the new Messiah for the second coming of Christ and I would still be a dirtbag by her standard.
I am trying to be good but the room atmosphere has changed. All of a sudden I am treated as the idiot, halfwit again and she is the "big boss wannabe." She must keep me at the supervisor/employee distance for what ever stupid reason the boss put in her head. I can see that something of a threatening or fearful nature was shoved into her lap so she's going to cover her butt even if that means sending mine down the river! The team lead straight up told me later in the day that she was getting shafted for not doing her job so now she has to crawl up my butt as a part of her daily duties. Because the little Troll (now dubbed) has to micromanage in order to look good so do the team leads.
Great so now I am dealing with two trolls instead of one, except this one is taller.
Monday, October 03, 2005
Happy Anniversary Darling!
Well it’s been seven years since we tied the knot. It almost seems surreal because as a teenager and young adult the concept of 3 years dating seemed like eternity for me. So seven years married and another 3 dating. I have been with the same person for ten years total and I think that’s great! I love my hubby and I hope he has a great day – I married a great man.
Crybaby Boss
On a crappy note I found out this week that my spouse’s four day pass was cancelled. Someone in his section had to go on emergency leave to take care of his father. I have no issue with that, family is family. What I have issue with is the fact that they are overstaffed in some areas and his boss won’t let someone cover his section for a whopping four days. According to the boss, he doesn’t get a four day pass so why should his subordinates? Let’s not mention though that EVERYONE of the same rank of my spouse got to take their four day pass. This load of crap is coming from the same man who felt my spouse didn’t need to be home while I had foot surgery. Apparently I was supposed to crawl up and down the stairs by myself to get food or drink from the basement. Since my hubby is not one to rock the boat too much I dropped a dime on the Ogre Boss man to – his Wife! Yeah, I played dirty which I don’t like to do but I needed the help in the house – we got 24 hours and he had to go back. Hey boss man – just because you miserable doesn’t mean you need to pass it on to everyone else!
Military Spouse Debate
A friend of mine had put up a letter from a military spouse posted on a Christian Blog. After reading the letter I was quite irritated. I can see where most of her (the spouse) complaints came from (okay I didn’t agree with some but could at least see her side) but about ¾ of the way through she made the generalization that those that join the military aren’t the sharpest crayons in the box. I pretty much took offense to that – I know enlisted and officers that are smart as all get up with or without a degree. So to have someone say that the only reason they join is because they are too stupid to find work elsewhere, really pissed me off.
Her letter basically came across as she was whining and bitching but not doing a damn thing to create a solution herself. It drives me nuts to hear and see folks that can bitch about something but are incapable of coming up with a possible solution themselves. This is like the folks that bitch about our government but are too frickin’ lazy to bother to vote. After writing back and forth via the comments, I’ve come to see that the particular duty station her family is at is the main culprit about the complaints and bad attitude. She has done some things (I would have pushed harder than she did, but that’s me not her), but they apparently haven’t helped to alleviate her troubles.
As for the military being a bunch of half wits, she never really acknowledged my irritation. I am not going to link the discussion only because she suffered a ton of insults, hate mail and most readers found out she had NOT given permission to have her letter posted publicly. So I wish the best for her family and that her next duty station will not be the nightmare of the current.
As for the rest of us half wits, I guess we will meet up on the short bus – LOL!
Crybaby Boss
On a crappy note I found out this week that my spouse’s four day pass was cancelled. Someone in his section had to go on emergency leave to take care of his father. I have no issue with that, family is family. What I have issue with is the fact that they are overstaffed in some areas and his boss won’t let someone cover his section for a whopping four days. According to the boss, he doesn’t get a four day pass so why should his subordinates? Let’s not mention though that EVERYONE of the same rank of my spouse got to take their four day pass. This load of crap is coming from the same man who felt my spouse didn’t need to be home while I had foot surgery. Apparently I was supposed to crawl up and down the stairs by myself to get food or drink from the basement. Since my hubby is not one to rock the boat too much I dropped a dime on the Ogre Boss man to – his Wife! Yeah, I played dirty which I don’t like to do but I needed the help in the house – we got 24 hours and he had to go back. Hey boss man – just because you miserable doesn’t mean you need to pass it on to everyone else!
Military Spouse Debate
A friend of mine had put up a letter from a military spouse posted on a Christian Blog. After reading the letter I was quite irritated. I can see where most of her (the spouse) complaints came from (okay I didn’t agree with some but could at least see her side) but about ¾ of the way through she made the generalization that those that join the military aren’t the sharpest crayons in the box. I pretty much took offense to that – I know enlisted and officers that are smart as all get up with or without a degree. So to have someone say that the only reason they join is because they are too stupid to find work elsewhere, really pissed me off.
Her letter basically came across as she was whining and bitching but not doing a damn thing to create a solution herself. It drives me nuts to hear and see folks that can bitch about something but are incapable of coming up with a possible solution themselves. This is like the folks that bitch about our government but are too frickin’ lazy to bother to vote. After writing back and forth via the comments, I’ve come to see that the particular duty station her family is at is the main culprit about the complaints and bad attitude. She has done some things (I would have pushed harder than she did, but that’s me not her), but they apparently haven’t helped to alleviate her troubles.
As for the military being a bunch of half wits, she never really acknowledged my irritation. I am not going to link the discussion only because she suffered a ton of insults, hate mail and most readers found out she had NOT given permission to have her letter posted publicly. So I wish the best for her family and that her next duty station will not be the nightmare of the current.
As for the rest of us half wits, I guess we will meet up on the short bus – LOL!
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