Back on the Blogosphere?

Maybe, maybe not. I'm currently working nights, which leaves me with some extremely anti-social awake times. You'd think that would inspire me to new heights of intellectual brilliance and blog-posting but it has in fact done the opposite and I seem to spend most of my free time wishing I was inspired and doing nothing to inspire myself very much. This should change. A lot has happened since April. I have gone places and done stuff. I have learned things and taught others, I have had some ups and some downs. I keep coming back to this blog and thinking I should update more often. And in the past I have said I would. I've said that so often that I'm pretty sure my handful of readers don't believe me! :) And today I am not going to say anything incredibly ambitious like 'I'll post once a week from here on out', because it's not fair or true. One day at a time, one post at a time, time will pass. I tried giving myself what I hoped was a multi-part project with the Partisans article, but after I posted the first post I felt I may have said too much of what I was thinking, and maybe the world at large didn't need part two. I'm considering posting some pics from some of my travels on here, because with a visual cue I think it might be easier to write. I've considered writing seven posts on one day and robo-posting them. I still might try that some time. We'll see...

On Religion and Partisans (Part One)

So, I'm working on a class project about the partisan movements of the Baltic countries during and directly after WWII. It's both fascinating and incredibly depressing. Many (but not all) of the people I'm reading about had a deep and abiding love of their country, despite the incredible dangers and hardships they faced. Not all of them shared the same ideas as to how things should be done. The best of them protected their weaker neighbours and harassed the enemy invaders of both sides who tried to eradicate them at every turn. The worst of them were violent and sometimes bigoted individuals who shot whoever they felt like or didn't like under the auspices of patriotism or while collaborating with the occupiers dejour. The best and the worst are worlds apart, yet they both get considered as partisans by the outside world. And now I'm going to make an imperfect analogy, but one that feels very natural to me. When I was ten, my parents started attending the Tridentine Mass. I will be the first to admit that ten-year-old me did not appreciate it as much as I perhaps ought to have. At the very beginning, I was actively hostile to the idea, insofar as a ten year old could be actively hostile. I didn't want to go. It took forever, it was in Foreign, it did not feel the least bit edifying and the old ladies pinched my cheeks. After Mass, there were sometimes, but not always, social gatherings in the parish hall. And these were more interesting to ten year old me, because they were in English, for one. And for two, the people at these social gatherings were always interesting. They were mostly older, some the terrifying old ladies who pinched my cheeks, some the cranky grandfatherly type, some people my parents' age who always seemed a bit peculiar, a handful of older teens, most of whom didn't ever stay very long or talk to ten year old me. But there were books to read, some of a 'usually out of print' nature and some of an 'out of print for a good reason' nature. These books intrigued ten year old me at least a little bit and I read some of them and I listened to the conversations of various grownups. From these books and from those conversations I came to the following nearly inescapable conclusions: 1. Once upon a time, this is what everyone did. Everyone prayed in Foreign and went to the church hall to speak in Local (and sometimes the Other Foreign, as appropriate to the ethnicity of the majority of the congregation). 2. Something Bad Happened in the 60s and everyone stopped doing what they had been doing. 3. Those who objected were ruthlessly kicked out of their home parishes which were then wreckovated to oblivion. Many of them were forced to attend Masses in hotel conference rooms, without the knowledge of their bishops, who were almost universally Bad Guys, or if not bad, then intimidated by pant-suit wearing nuns. 4. We, the attendees of this liturgy, were a small group of faithful people who were going against the larger group of people who had either tamely accepted everything the bishops had said and done as Word of God, or had left the church for various Protestant denominations. From ages 10 through about 14 these ideas merely percolated. I still didn't particularly like the TLM, but the thoughts were there. Around age 14, I started to feel that even though I didn't _like_ the TLM, it was more spiritually beneficial for me to attend it. At age 16, I read the Silmarillion, which made a profound impression on me and to this day I don't know exactly how my brain tied the Silmarillion and the TLM together but it did. I actually started to enjoy attending and tried to puzzle out the Latin with varying degrees of success. Around 16 or 17, I started flirting with the ideas of sedevacantism, a sort of back-burner thought process that continued up through freshman year of college. To Be Continued...

4 Year Anniversary (Approximately)

So I was feeling a little out of sorts recently, nothing big just a nagging feeling of depression/anxiety/ick. And it occurs to me that maybe I shouldn't be blogging this. But I'm going to keep Auntie Seraphic's maxim in mind, this will be something that could be read at my funeral with hopefully the minimum of embarrassment to the living. And then I remembered. Approximately four years ago I graduated (better people than I can remember the exact date- I'm going with 'it was June'). That seems like a million years ago and no time at all, all at once. It's very, very strange. And of course when I started thinking about graduation a wealth of memories came up. It's so strange to think that one of the happiest days of my life was followed by one of the saddest/most frustrating (NB: I realise that this is not THE saddest day of my life and nor is it likely to ever be among the top five. I'm reserving those spots for the death of loved ones etc, but take it from me, it was/will be probably in my top ten). I felt like my world had bottomed out and there was nothing I could do. I went from having a plan and direction and a sense that I was doing what I was supposed to be doing to 'world-bottomed-out' in less than 24 hours, with a longer term and indirect result in my current career path. I'm trying to think of what I can take away from this that's profound, but I'm having trouble. I suppose the simplest and most obvious take-away is that the world didn't end. It was lousy for a little while, I was semi-homeless for a little while, and it took me about 6 months from world-bottomed-out to swearing-in. My second take-away from the whole mess is that I have very good friends. When I needed it most, I had friends who gave me sound advice, friends who gave me a place to stay or a lead on a place to stay, and friends who prayed for me that I might figure out what the heck I was supposed to do with my life. Four years later, I still can't thank all of you enough. I don't know what I would have done without you all. I don't want this post to be anything more or less than a sort of placeholder. I remember what happened. I try to remember it as objectively as possible which isn't ever easy. But this post isn't meant to be a sad/angry rant OR a 'Everything's Great Now' post. It's just a post.

Merry Christmas!

.... I'm not late. I have until at least 6 January to celebrate Christmas and if I'm feeling _very_ energetic or very behind on the sending of Christmas presents, I have until February 2nd. So there.
December has gone by in a bit of a blur due to scheduling demands. Nightshift does weird things to your brain. For me it gave me very, very vivid and strange dreams when I slept during daylight hours. It also contributed a bit to my uncharitable thoughts about my neighbors (yelling during hours of daylight) and apartment maintenance (leafblowing in the afternoon...seriously not cool).
I spent my nights off awake and a little bored. A lot of things that I think should be open are closed at night, such as shops, museums, aquariums, movie theaters, and restaurants. I discovered the handful of 24 hour places, mainly 2 Walmarts, 2 IHOPs, a Subway and a Denny's. I know some people can do 'extra long days' and switch to daytime hours for their off time but I knew that wouldn't work for me. Once I switched to nights I had to make a serious commitment and I did. It worked pretty well. I was blessed to have Christmas off and was able to go to my favourie local liturgy. Looks like I'll also have New Year's off, and my glorious plan for that day is to pack like someone who's forgotten how to pack smart in anticipation of visiting Tbro and sister-in-law. It occurs to me that I either don't have a nickname for her or I have forgotten it... either way, I shall have to come up with something.

In other news, I have (sort of) come to terms with the fact that I have curly hair. This isn't exactly a revelation, but since my earliest days I have had difficulty coping with what Nature has seen fit to bless me with. I have only saved myself from years of heat-damage from straightening irons because I have been afraid of burning my ears. I have only saved myself from damaging my hair with scary, industrial strength chemicals because I am cheap and couldn't justify paying THAT MUCH for something that might result in my hair becoming brittle and breaking like...graham crackers. Or something. Graham crackers doesn't seem to be quite apt but it'll do for now.
Anyway, point being, my hair is relatively healthy and quite definitely curly. I've decided to start respecting it more. To this end, I'm experimenting with a better way to clean and condition it than the products I'm currently using. I'm just starting to think though how drastically different my life might have been if I'd figured this out as a teenager instead of going around with poofy, dried-out and unhappy hair. Well, you live and you learn. Thinking about going with a dramatically shorter haircut that respects my curls. Not sure if I can pull this off properly considering uniform requirements. Just read the regs governing hair again and I think the biggest problem might be the two inch rule plus the fact that curls are no symmetrical.
Still thinking.
Anyway... Things to clean, stuff to make ready, etc. Literally 24 hours left of work until leave!

Another year older...

not sure how much wiser and not really feeling older yet. Ten years ago I couldn't imagine I'd be where I am now so I'm not going to try to figure out where I'll be ten years from now! Younger selves, whether from just last year or from half a lifetime ago, seem so much younger and sillier than our present clever selves.
So, every year is a gift from God. It's like a new notebook or blank canvas. It's meant to be filled, and I'm looking forward to that in the months ahead. No idea what it's going to be like really, I'm not even going to try to guess.

Not Alone

Sometimes I feel like God is tapping me upside the head, very gently. “Hey. I’m here. I’m listening. You can talk to me, you know…”
And then sometimes suddenly, unexpectedly He taps me upside the heart, when I’m definitely not expecting it, and all of a sudden I fall apart during a particularly sappy/charismatic song. Yes, me of the Gregorian chant and the mysteries of the East and the Great Doxology and etc. “Do not be afraid I am with you” suddenly hits me. I cried to the point that I was reaching for tissues but realised I didn’t have any. So, I ducked out to fix myself, which took a few minutes and I ended up missing the Consecration in the process as I was still pulling myself together in the bathroom… oops. That was decidedly not cool, but I had seriously hit the point where I was a distraction to myself and others and I did HAVE to leave. But I sorted myself out to the point that I could go back up to the church directly after the Consecration and receive etc. At which point I almost had another meltdown. Sometimes I hate being me. I really don’t have any kind of nervous hysteria usually and I am firmly resolved to never cry in uniform but I honestly don’t know what brought all of that on.
Maybe I do. “Do not be afraid I AM with you”. Intellectually it’s possible to know that God is everywhere- present in all places and filling all things as the liturgy says. But how often do we think about that? When I’m having a bad moment it almost _never_ occurs to me that God is right there with me. Because I tend to think of God the Father as a stern judge etc. sometimes I think I’d rather not have Him right there with me. And when something awful is happening it’s hard to see how a loving Father could let that happen, so I tend to assume I’m alone without even examining the thought. And even when I do take time and think “You know, I’m not really alone. God’s with me even in this” all I can think about is how insubstantial He seems to be at the moment in question when I could really do with a hug. But every so often, He’ll surprise me with a reminder that reduces me to tears of relief, I think, that I am not alone. I’m used to tears of sadness, frustration, anger, disappointment and very rarely exhaustion. I am not at all used to tears of relief that I am not on my own.

Rant Warning

Maybe I should give up FB…
So this was going to start out as an injunction to others to be careful what they post on FB, and not just in the mundane security senses ie, never post “I’m going on vacation for the next three weeks and I’m leaving the key under the mat so that the person who waters my exotic plants and feeds my expensive cat can get in” unless you want someone to nick both your plants and the cat… and the more I started thinking the more I began to think that maybe the problem wasn’t the other people it was me. Or FB. Or something. Probably mainly me and a bit FB too.
On a tangentially related topic- related because I saw it on FB- I followed a link from a FB-friend to an article talking about how even nominal Christians were engaging in premarital ‘relations’ at a rate pretty much on par with their secular counterparts of the same age and gender. What my FB-friend had commented on it (on FB not on the post which had a hilariously flame-filled comments section btw) was ‘Get married earlier. Seriously. What’s the worst that could happen, you’d be poor?’ I felt as though someone had prodded me in the stomach with the ‘it’s-all-your-fault-western-civilization-is-failing’ stick…

What.

The.

Hell.

Really?? Obviously, that’s the answer, get married younger! You! Lovey-dovey young people! Get your rears in gear and get yourselves properly wedded! Quick! Better to marry than to burn! You must be afraid of poverty but DON’T worry, God will provide! And if He doesn’t at least there’s WIC so you won’t starve!

The fb-friend in question is someone I’ve never met in real life. She’s married to a guy I went to college with. I felt like posting back words to the effect of “I’d love to get married but I’m just not as fortunate at getting a guy as you are, Mrs. Jones.”

One of her other friends shortly thereafter did post something like ‘Takes two to tango’ and I had to like that instead of posting what I wanted to…

I would _happily_ have accepted poverty, a crappy place to live, no car and a stack of student loans if it meant marrying Mr. RightForMe (Writing it all down like that though looks a bit wrong-headed…). Unfortunately he hasn’t turned up yet and I am assuming he must either be somewhere with lousy GPS reception or he’s got his map the wrong way around… so until he does show up, I will *gaspshockhorror* have to manage on my own. Which, by the way, means having student loans steadily getting paid off, living in a decent place and working a decent job which is practically a vocation. I’m getting debt-free and sorting my life out. There are worse places and ways to do it than this.

It was a kind of flippant comment for the woman in question to make but she underlined it by saying ‘no seriously’… seriously… Okay lady. Seriously. You go out there and find some eligible guys for me, club them over the head a few times and convince them that they have to marry me in order to save western civilization... Because I’m not going to be chasing anyone. Goes against my everything.

Oh, and I read the linked article, I found it hilarious in its unimaginativeness. There was a line in there that said something about ‘People waiting into their twenties and thirties- what do we tell them, keep waiting?’… Duh.
Ooh…and my other favourite line was a quote from a subject matter expert who was talking about how in biblical times people married young and didn’t really play the field prior to marriage due to that.

So…marry young hm? Setting aside for a moment the (for some poor unfortunates) insurmountable obstacle of NOT KNOWING MR/MS RIGHT, at what age should people be getting married?

And this is what really gets under my skin and burrows around like a creepy horrible bug… This line of thought ‘Better to marry than to burn, quick marry ‘em off before they disgrace themselves/us’ is unpleasantly familiar sounding. Now where have I heard that before? Oh right. From crazed ayatollahs. From people who say it’s okay to marry an eight year old as long as you promise not to consummate the marriage until she’s 12….

Now, no Christians would do something crazy like that, right? … Right? …

I feel as though there is a distant but shrill and hysterical chorus of people chanting an angry chant at ‘heretical’ successful young single women of the faith. “Misguided Women with Feminist Leanings! Marriage and babies! Western Civilisation depends on YOU! Marriage and babies! Repent and be married and have lots of babies!”
Not quite as distant/shrill/hysterical is the burbling of newly-marrieds “We’re pregnant! Life is awesome when you’re married! We’re awesome and happily married! Did we mention we’re pregnant? Life! Maternity! We’re pregnant again!”

And realistically I know that these women are artfully leaving out the messy/squick moments of marriage/pregnancy/childrearing. And I know that. But they are in the enviable position where the segments of society that we actually care about- ie friends/family/Church-at-Large approve of them. The working single women are looked upon by the same segments as a bit unfortunate and secular coworkers are apt to mistake ‘doesn’t do casual relationships’ for ‘never gets out and don’t bother trying to get to know her’.

Marginalized by one and ignored by the other. Lovely.

Thankfully I know some sane marrieds with sweet kid/s and they are awesome. There aren’t as many of them as there are of the other type, but nonetheless, they are awesome.

End Rant...

So, me not posting anything for a long time isn't AT ALL unusual, although I have a rather better than usual excuse for this particular six months of absolutely nothing on this blog. And I was going to write this awesome post because I just got inspired standing in line at Panera but unfortunately I didn't manage to pack MacAlister's powercord... go me... I packed _sunscreen_ and not the power cord. But seriously if it's the only thing I forget this weekend, I'm doing pretty darn outstanding!

So right, inspiration in line at Panera. A post elsewhere entitled 'Can't Even Go to the Park' by a homeschooling mom talking about PDA in the park has been ticking over in the back of my brain. I was trying to think of where I was on the spectrum. I don't have kids yet so obviously my POV on PDA levels is quite different. And the PDA I couldn't help but see in line at Panera was obviously het. It still made me throw up in my mouth a little, which, right before a good meal is seriously suboptimal.

It wasn't gropey making-out or anything terribly obnoxious but it still provoked a reaction from me. It was hand holding, body holding, hand kissing, shoulder-kissing(??) and it made me think about what was and what wasn't acceptable PDA in public. Prior to this evening I had thought that I was pretty much okay with everything up to kissing in public. A peck on the cheek, okay. And these were just pecks but there were a LOT of them. And before I get any accusations of being some kind of voyuer I will repeat, I really couldn't help but see them. I did eventually stare at the sign over their head and roll my eyes theatrically. I did manage to stop myself from sighing audibly but it was a near run thing.

I realise acceptable PDA levels are different in different cultures, but sometimes I think it's just incredibly insensitive of couples to be so wrapped up in themselves and expressing their LURVE for each other at all times and in all places. I'm starting to think I've been in uniform for too long- if you SHOULDN'T do it in uniform you probably SHOULDN'T do it in public at all....

And on that, note that I said 'shouldn't' not 'can't' because I realise there are dumb people out there who 'do' anyway... and at least in my tiny corner of the world they can get masted for it.

Am I an evil grumpy single? Yup. Don't inflict your coupleness on the world, couples of the world!

(Sidenote: Would I be happy in an Islamic theocracy that prohibits PDA on pain of pain? Hell no. Because I believe that being able to choose to do the right thing is far superior to being FORCED to do the right thing...)
(Additional sidenote- link to the homeschooling mom's post will be provided at a later date and time when I have a powercord...)
Dedicated to: The couple in front of me in line at Panera that I will quite likely never, ever see again.
Coming soon! Catholic-bashing conversation overheard at Panera! Praying for infidels instead of overturning their soup bowls on their heads! (Why is it that the correct thing and the thing that would be entertaining are rarely the same?)

With Proper Precautions

So no pics as of yet, I still haven't betaken myself over to Best Buy to acquire the necessary cable but I REALLY have to because this 'entire memory card is full' thing is getting very old. And I have at least one friend who is patiently waiting for photos from over a year ago...
But back to the title of this post. Auntie Seraphic, of Seraphic Singles fame (buy her book, read her book, read her blog, she is awesome), recently posted about her experience of being locked out in the cold and the dark in a foreign country without means of contacting her husband. She brought up some very good points about preparedness and how she was more prepared as a Single than as a Married, or perhaps that her preparedness skills were slipping due to complacency.
I'm thinking about my ideas of preparedness and trying to see if they could use work. You see, I'm feeling very proud of myself due to a recent solo accomplishment. Can I get more cryptic? Yes. Will I? Maybe.
At any rate though, while on the whole I think I did well on this solo jaunt there were a few things that I would of course change if I had unlimited resources etc. For one, if I had any way to avoid it, I wouldn't go alone again. I know now that I _can_ go alone. Bad, terrible, horrible and nasty things will not happen to me simply BECAUSE I'm alone. They might, but my venturing out alone would probably not be the sole factor in it. Well, maybe.
At any rate, I found that by myself- and I mean, completely by myself, out of earshot and eyesight of strangers with an open and empty world around me- I talk to myself. Out loud. I'm pretty sure that's not great. I don't think it's a sign of the 'lock me up now' crazies, but I started to get irritated by my own need for constant audio commentary. It's just that even with signs of civilization around, and not _too_ far away, some part of me needs to be reassured that I'm still connected with the world at large or with some kind of society.
Occasionally, when I wanted to take a picture of a cool place with myself in the picture, I would get depressed because I have realised the misery that is taking a picture of oneself. It really isn't easy. You tend to end up either taking a picture of yourself blinking, or a picture that largely features scenery with half of your face in the picture on an edge.
All in all though, I only had a few really bad moments, the worst of which was once when I got a bit disorientated. I knew where I was when I started off, and I knew where I wanted to go, but somewhere along the way I missed a turn and ended up somewhere unfamiliar and more than a little scary. It was getting dark too, and that was the worst part of it. In daylight, I know the exact same place wouldn't have been nearly as frightening, but at night, on my own, I was really scared. I was especially scared because I had been doing so well. It was like... like riding a bike when you're still a bit wobbily. I'd been doing really well on straight bits and got the hang of corners, but all of a sudden I was pelting down a steep hill (ala Monterey) fraught with intersections with other streets, streetlamps and pedestrians.
Actually if there had been some more people it wouldn't have been so bad. I just had the feeling that I'd fallen off the edge and there was nothing. Finally though I came across some help- and found out that I'd been going pretty much exactly 180 degrees the wrong way. So I had to go back the way I'd come, and that was something I didn't like very much. I was so relieved when I found my landmark again and headed off in the correct direction, watching vigilantly- making sure I wouldn't make a similar mistake again.
So what are the proper precautions I'm talking about? Hmm... Still not really sure myself. I mean, the ones I took were 'blend in in every way possible', 'research' and 'stick to well-travelled areas'. What would I do differently? I honestly don't know. Did I have a wonderful time? Yes. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. Would I recommend it? Yup. What would I change? I still have to come back to the fact that 'alone' is not my preferred mode, for all that I'm capable of doing it. I've learned some very valuable things about myself and the world at large, but in the future... who knows?

Resa-whatnow?

No. I'm not going to do it and you can't make me.
No resolutions will be posted on this blog. I won't say that there is no point in resolutions because they tend to fall apart after the first month (if it even takes that long). Resolutions work for some people and not for others. And some resolutions don't work for anyone. Anything incredibly drastic or life-altering is pretty unlikely to end up fulfilled at the end of a year. Anything vague enough can be wiggled out of. And honestly, when you don't even know if you're going to wake up in the morning, it seems a bit presumptuous to go around making resolutions.

Okay. Those are my thoughts on resolutions. I realise I'm probably in the minority on all of that. But whatever.

I hereby resolve one thing though- before I go on any transatlantic jaunts, I will make damn sure my room is clean. I am coming back to a clean, orderly, well-put-together room. This will happen if it kills me getting there and sometimes it feels like it just might.

In other news, I saw Tron tonight. It wasn't spectacular. It was very flashy and I believe that was 95% of the point.... so much for the other 5%. I wish someone would pay me to write a movie script...

What class today felt like

Sweaty palms, clenched toes (of all things), sloshy stomach, aching head, ringing ears, knotted chest- no deep breaths, hyper-awareness of every sound, smell of fear, stiff back and neck.
Worse than thesis semester? Yup. Worse than previous school? Yup. 4-5 weeks left to go, three tests next week? Yup.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving sort-of snuck up on me this year, but I have to say so far it's been amazing! For breakfast today I had sweet-potato pie (one of the few regionally southern things I appreciate so far). I then proceeded to clean the bathroom and do two loads of laundry. It felt very productive for a holiday so I had to make up for it by watching Dr. Who while folding the laundry.

Then I went to the command Thanksgiving party. It was an experience! Next time I won't get there quite so early. It's weird to be somewhere too early because you thought they might need more help and they don't but you're standing there awkwardly looking for something to do while people much older than you with much more energy run around doing a million and two things and won't let you help out... Tasty, tasty food and lots of it- turkey, ham, casserole, mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, more pie and cake than you could shake a stick at. The guy who put it together was a professional chef prior to Navy life and it showed. The Important People showed up and shook hands all around, and despite them the mood was still festive though sadly non-alcoholic.

After the festivities, I volunteered to join the group taking the leftovers to the watchstanders and that was nice. It was awesome to be able to surprise people with plates of still warmish food. There were even a few whole leftover pies. They had leaf decorations on them made out of crusts- detailed to include lines on the leaves. Really magnificent presentation.

On a more personal note, on Thanksgiving I am particularly thankful for:
My family (near/far, sane/otherwise)
My friends (the family one gets to pick!)
My coworkers (peers and superiors- don't have any subordinates)
My domicile (which will be even cleaner by the end of this four-day weekend)
My roomie (who has the patience of one of the beatified if not a saint)
My job (hurrah for gainful employment)
My car (which will also be cleaned this weekend)
My health (which aside from another round of shinsplints couldn't be better)
My faith (which praises the often forgotten virtue of gratitude)

All in all, it has been a wonderful day.

The hiatus

So... yep. It's been almost a month since I've posted on this blog. And I have a perfectly good excuse- class has been trampling me into a fine paste. Well, that and the unfall. Seriously not cool.

So what's happened in the past month? I had my birthday- a midweek birthday so not a whole lot to shout about. I didn't even have a drink on my birthday as I'm prepping for the upcoming PRT on Tuesday- probably.

And the accident... I'm not going to forget that in a hurry and I wish I could. I really wish I could. It wasn't my fault, I wasn't hurt and Roderich's still driveable, but...

But every time I have to hit my breaks, or every time a driver on these stupid roads around Ft. SINYF fails to indicate/rides my rear/does something incredibly stupid, I break out in a cold sweat and start to think my time may have come- again. It was really bad, the week of the incident. I couldn't drive. Thankfully it was my carpool's turn anyway, but I couldn't have driven if my life depended on it. Even now, I can still remember what it felt like. The feeling first, the noise of it second, the terror throughout.

But I have good shipmates- they found me after my hysterical phone call once all the cars were safely off the highway. Greg7 and BigScaryJ showed up and I'd never been so happy to see them before. Greg7 hugged me and told me everything was going to be fine. I hugged him back. I was so upset and scared and unhappy and just knowing that there was a friendly person right there that I could hold onto was very comforting. The police actually asked if we were married and made some comment about my ring and I made a shaky, angry comment back about being married to the Navy. There were a lot of phone calls to/from chain of command people, but the most important thing was that Greg7 and BigScaryJ were there when the cops wanted to throw me in jail for driving without insurance. Needless to say I DID have insurance, but my insurance company had failed to communicate adequately with the DMV. Without Greg7 and BigScaryJ there, I don't think I would have had the presence of mind to ask the police to call my insurance company- which they did, and immediately found that I DID have insurance, just like I said.

BigScaryJ drove my car somewhere safe and Greg7 gave me a ride to the party I had been going to- the one that he had left to come find me. I drank some horrible tea that was surprisingly enough a pretty good remedy for shock, and spent the whole party in a daze on the couch- not really asleep but not really there. Not concussed, just really, truly freaked out. But I have good friends. They made sure I got home and everything was fine. I don't think Greg7 really will ever know how helpful he was and how glad I was to see him. He can be a difficult person to deal with/understand sometimes, but I am glad that he is one of my shipmates.

A Mess of Contradictions

Because I'm human. I'm a Trad who wears pants. I'm a Gregorian chant lover who listens to metal. I'm spiritually aware enough to know that I was at the back of the line when awareness was being handed out. I'm right handed but I do random stuff left handed.

I will not be put in a box and classified according to someone else's definition of who or what I am. I will not compromise. I will not lower my standards. I will not be consumed with regret about the past or with fear about the future. I was created by a loving God Who has a good plan for me. To Him, I am beautiful and special. That should be all that I need. I will never forget my dreams, even if I have to put them aside for a while. I will strive to keep a clear head in the present and to do my job to the best of my ability at all times and in all places. I will accept my current limits and love myself while striving to improve myself. I will learn from the past, but I will not allow it to hurt me. I will seek to know God's will in my life and to carry it out.

Y-M-C-A!

So I signed up at the local Y. You might ask, doesn't Ft. SINYF have something like nine gyms? Why on earth would you pay money for another one? I would tell you- because the PRT is coming up. And sometimes I don't feel like driving all the way back to Ft. SINYF just to PT. Speaking of which, I have set myself the laudable-but-we'll-see-how-it-goes goal of going to the gym every single day until the PRT. I already know it's not going to happen over the long weekend. If I'm especially good, I might get up early on Friday morning, but they'll probably be closed anyway so it doesn't really matter too much.
Also talked to the parental units today about upcoming trip. They're disappointed it won't be for longer, of course. I tried to explain, but it wasn't good. I understand that they love me, we just can't be around each other for any length of time.
Maybe some day I'll be able to tell myself that it just doesn't matter any more, that holding on for any longer to a bad memory of the past is only going to hurt myself more.
But I can't stand it when people who know me and say they love me can think the worst of me with no remorse and no memory of doing so.

Letters to a Younger Me

Saw this on another blog, thought it was interesting so here goes. I might do letters _from_ a younger me sometime. Oh, and I also figured out back-dating on this so I'm doing that. And it's not cheating because when I wrote it I didn't have internet access but fully intended to post this. So there.

Dear Five Year Old Me,
Just because there are other kids around doesn't mean they'll be your friends. Kindergarten is not as neat as you think it's going to be. Dinosaurs are dead so don't worry about them. TBro isn't going to go away. I'm proud of you! You're the youngest kid in the class and you're doing just fine!
Love,
Me in 2010

Dear Eight Year Old Me,
You're right- you won't ever be like the other kids, so don't even bother trying. Some stuff is going on that you don't get, but that's okay. The chronic nightmares should go away in a year or two. I think you're adorable when you try to make friends with the big kids! Try and return some of your library books on time, okay? Or at least remember where you put them if you don't remember what day they're due! And just to let you know, your future self still loves the Air and Space Museum!
Love,
Me in 2010

Dear Eleven Year Old Me,
You'll meet someone very special soon, just when you're starting to feel like you're completely alone in a foreign country. Enjoy Guides! Earn badges! Go for walks! Eat toffee! I don't have to remind you to do that last one. And hey, try and behave for Mom. You really don't want to go to school in this country. Trust me! And buy more Biggles books! Your future self still doesn't have all 94.... Above all, don't fall into self-conscious behaviors! You don't need them!
Love,
Me in 2010

Dear Fourteen Year Old Me,
I know you think you're the coolest thing since the fridge since you've discovered you can fall asleep listening to heavy metal. Just keep a low profile on that or Mom is going to smash all your CDs. The theme you want to go for is low profile altogether. Otherwise you're going to run into trouble. I know, you think your profile couldn't get any lower, but some people are watching you and they're concerned about your friends or your lack thereof. I wish I could tell you more. Just please, please watch what you say and who you say it to! Right now it seems like everything's going more or less okay, but if you're not careful, things are going to come unstuck- horribly. Also keep writing fanfic! You'll be a better writer sooner if you practice more!
CAVU,
Me in 2010

Dear Seventeen Year Old Me,
Told ya so. But that doesn't really help right now. I know you're feeling miserable right now so that's the first and last time I'll say you were warned. Take care of yourself! Take long walks! Work hard on scholarship applications! Don't let anyone see you cry! Get involved in volunteer stuff... like Civil Air Patrol. That's a really good idea. You'll like it lots, I promise! You'll meet new and interesting people! You'll go to cool airshows! I can promise you the pain and misery won't go away overnight. You're going to have difficulty dealing for a long time. But keep active and keep your chin up! Keep writing too, but try and open up some new genres! Work on original stuff!
Hang in there!
Me in 2010

Dear Twenty Year Old Me,
Well, you're finally at your first choice college! You're finally meeting great, interesting people who share your values! Isn't this awesome? It was worth it! Don't worry about boys- in fact, I know I'm asking the impossible but try not to think about them either...
And on an unrelated note, here's a warning you absolutely have to take to heart. Trust no one. Especially don't trust the people in your life who say that they love you. because they'll say that and then knock your feet out from under you.
Keep your eyes open and get things in writing,
Me in 2010

Dear Twenty Three Year Old Me,
See what I meant? Of course you do... Things will get better- kinda. At least you'll soon be out of the house and making money. Those are very important things. You're not going to get over that shit any time soon, just so you know. I think that's normal. You won't forget any time soon that anger and helplessness you felt. Anger, betrayal, helplessness, despair, hatred, apathy, exhaustion, frustration, sadness, fear, self-pity and claustrophobia will all take their turn on the spin-cycle from hell until you get out. Quite the range, hm? It wasn't what they thought, but that didn't matter, did it? Just to let you know, your current self is still not over the whole damn thing and has no plans on that changing any time soon.
On a more positive note, nice B-day party in Old Town! Wasn't that fun? Just so you don't forget, the year before (22) was the year you got Porfiry who can't say 'grapefruit'. The 21st was pretty unforgettable in Ireland and the one before that was a step up from a pity party courtesy of TexasTara
Um... to return to a difficult to understand subject. With regards to a certain individual (hereafter referred to as CI) You had unreturned feelings of CI. CI was special. And just so you know, you still haven't let go of CI. You've got to work on that. Let the dead bury their dead. You've got a cross to plant on that hill.
Taking the long route,
Me in 2010