So here I am

I finally got the reset to this account. I have to figure out how to link this with my Google account so I can get to it easier.

So, lots going on. Moving in February, which I am looking forward to. 3 years was plenty here, 4 is too much, I think. We are supposed to move to Wyoming, if all the paperwork goes through. I just hope that doesn't take too long, I can't stand to be kept in suspense.

I stop working 16 December, the day of Ziggy's Christmas party. I can hardly contain my excitement. the environment I work in is tense most of the time, hostile in varying degrees. I am ready to be done there.

I started 2 graduate programs, yes I am a glutton for academic punishment.

So a few months ago, I was having wine with some girlfriends, and we were all telling stories about our husbands (4 women, 6 bottles of wine, do the math, lol). And I told a story I instantly regretted telling. I still regret it. It was about Ziggy, and I think he knows I told that story, as the event that it was about, hasn't happened since that day. I'm not a complete fool, and I know my husband that well, at least. I can't take it back, and I am exceptionally embarrassed to the point I can't begin to apologize to Ziggy. But I feel horrible about it.

So BullRder, I am still here, if you are still reading...

2011 is NOT my year.......

Well, they say that bad things happen in sets of 3, and if that's true (And it's sure living up to that so far), then I've already hit my quota of bad happening to me for the whole of the year.

I count my mother's death as the first one. The second would be the suicide of my favorite uncle. The third is probably a far worse blow to me than the second.

The words 'Napalm Gel' bring anything to mind? Yea, well, Google it....or the Anarchist Handbook. I should NEVER know what the recipe is for Napalm Gel, nor the name of the 'cookbook' that holds the recipe for it. And yet, here I am, knowing what both of those things are. Ignorance REALLY is bliss.

The story that brings such knowledge to yours truly is a sordid one, I'd have to say. And it's told with a great deal of sardonic irony, sarcasm, and humor. I'm told it's bloody hilarious. Believe me, it wasn't so funny as it was happening to me. And yet, I digress..

Picture it, January 24, 2011, a lovely clear, sunny, cold, crisp day in Eastern England. My oldest child's 15th birthday. I walk to work, as we have only one car, and Ziggy takes Her Highess the Princess MiniMachine to daycare in it. Well, I am walking out of the building I work in, when I see the figure of my oldest child sprinting across the parking lot towards me. The thoughts going through my head are of teh general birthday variety. He's running towards me because he got something cool for his birthday, a great grade on an exam (it was examsweek at the high school), ANYTHING except what he said to me.

Fire. In my house. Yea, not what I was thinking was going to come out of his mouth. I did the motherly thing of freaking out promptly. My next actions I have been ridiculed and condemned for. I called 911. Comments as to my taking that act have ranged from 'Don't you love your son? Why would you call 911?' to 'Damn, you're a mean mother!' with a 'If there were parental controls on his computer, this wouldn't have happened.' thrown in for good measure. We'll get to my reaction to that last one a little later.

So I called 911, and was told that the fire trucks would be on their way to my house immediately. My son is rambling his version (we'll get to the truth later) as we are speed walking, then running to the house in order to beat the fire trucks to the door. The Deputy Fire Chief, bless him, had only been on station a total of 3 weeks, and looked like he was old enough to be my son's classmate at school. Literally. Anywho, the story my son has told me is that something caught fire in his room, on the floor, randomly. I was born at night, but it wasn't last night. Well, the fire department on base didn't buy that line of bull either. (Mom, 1 point.....kid, -20) They take him upstairs and show him the marks on the floor, the residue of the fire extingusher and they tell him....you're fulla crap, and we know it. They give him the opportunity to change his tune. He sticks with his random combustion story. For now.

Well, we go outside and look at the items that were on fire, and in the garbage bin. The fire guys go to leave and the kid looks at me and says, 'Mom, you promise not to beat me?' Yea, how'd I know that was coming????? So I ask him what he lit on fire. And the words Napalm Gel enter my vocabulary. Apparently he'd googled it, set out to build it, and it went horribly wrong horribly fast. He assembled the ingredients in a cookie tin he'd gotten from Christmas and lit the contents on fire, seeking the find out how the 'gel' was made. It caught flame rather quick, grew rapidly and then he went to get the fire extinguisher and put it out. Then he took the items down to the garbage bin, and aired out the house. The carpet in his room was burned, as was the ironing board.

At that point I demand he go tell the deputy fire chief this information. And then ensues the madness that has been my last 3 weeks. The British have graciously decided not to prosecute him for bombmaking. However the base that Ziggy is assigned to is doing a review to setermine whether or not to ban him fromt he base, and kick him out of the country. I half hope they do it.

Meanwhile the kid is now Ziggy's personal bitch. And he's even slacking at that. He appears to have no comprehension of what he's done, nor the consequences. as evidenced by his tweaking of the actions he took (while thinking out loud in front of a British cop that's recording his utterances, I might add). Yea.....not helping the image there, kid.

So, yea.....it's been an eventful few weeks.

Conversely, I picked up a book at the shoppette the other day that had my attention as soon as I read the title. See, I'd heard utterances of the military dabbling into the psychic research, and other paranormal type things, but had never read anything was considered legitimate. I dig the paranormal, by the way. Not so much the aliens side of stuff, but the remote viewing, psychic ability, clairvyant stuff I lap up like milk. Love it. Why? Well....I don't know any of you well enough to tell you that, sorry. Hell, Ziggy looks at me like I have 3 heads whenever it's mentioned, so I tend to keep quiet. But just know I get into it. It's by Major Edward A Dames, he's a retired Army military intelligence officer (legit creds to me) and well, it's called "Tell Me What You See". A real page turner. I'm loving it. So toss that onto your reading stack, courtesy of yours truly.

Bullrder, I hope you're still reading. And I hope you'll understand the reason for my lacking post over the last few weeks. I am trying to do better. But yea...it's been busy.

Bull Rider

Yes, it's been ages since I updated this. And Bull rider2 keeps looking for an update, so I'm sure sure it's time I gave him one (I'm assuming it's a guy).

So....since July...well, I can say this....my job is underpaid. Really and truly, the requirements for being able to hold this job. And really and truly, that's pretty typical, in my experience, for the government. I'd have to say that atleast the lower 7 grades of the GS system aren't anything that you really have to have alot of higher education to perform. High school education, willingness to put up with BS(that's a high priority), and an overwhelming capacity to deal with more than the job description entails...yep, that's a government job. Maybe I should have been a contracted position. Not all the same perks, but hell, the pay is fabulous.

So my September sucked immeasurably. As in my mother died 5 September. She had a heart attack in the garage, and the best that they could determine was that Daddy (Alzheimer's mute) tried to help her..the phone was left off the hook, there were indications in the house that Daddy had been knocking things over, etc...so they think that Daddy tried to help her, but in his capacity, he couldn't. So I had to come back to the US for that. And believe me, putting up with my older brothers and my sister in law was not the best thing I wanted to do right after my mother died.

So to Georgia I went. And from the get-go, my brothers were off and running about treating me like I was 14 all over again....don't tell her the full story about Mom (like that was going to make it any better that she'd died? Yea, smart brothers I have)...they got upset that I wasn't 'properly' reacting to my mother's death by crying all day, going through her stuff, talking to my Daddy, otherwise making a complete ass of myself in front of the family. Totally not my style, frankly. I am not a public mourner. Never have been. However, I will say that I cried like a baby at her funeral, and for good reason. The handkerchief that my sister in law handed me on the way into the church had been my Daddy's, and Daddy always has a handkerchief in his pocket. I cried and cried during that service, listening to people talk about my mother, and how wonderful she was. People I hadn't seen in 25 years showed up to celebrate my mother's life, and to mourn her loss. And just when it looks like they're gonna leave me alone????????

I get the 'I don't know you and I don't approve of your life and the way you live it' speech from my brother. Yea...way to encourage me to get to know you...and by 'get to know' my brother means that he'll approve of me and my family if we toe the line he prefers. Um, new flash, I'm 33 years old, I can make my own decisions and do as I please. Yea, he didn't like it much when I said that to him, either.

I mourn my mother's death, believe me, I do. Any time I talk to one of my sisters in law, however, I get the whole 'I dreamed about your mother and she gave me a hug and said to bring you back to church' speech. After the last time she started that on facebook, my husband deleted her off my friends list for making me cry.

October passed, so did November and December...nothing crazy, really.......and then January happened. My beloved favorite Uncle killed himself. Let me tell you it's been a shit 6 months.

So here I am, sitting at 13 months from moving again. Graduated from college. Hating my job, but it's security for pay when I get back to the US. I'm sorry this post isn't my usual wit filled entry, BullRider... My head is a little all over the place..I'll reorganize and come back..

Thursday July 29

So it's Thursday. And work seems to have levelled out in regards to amount of stress that is coming down. All of this will change next week, as it's the beginning of the month and people will need appointments and the books will re-open. So more stress coming next week, happy happy joy joy.

On the job front, I am waiting to find out if I am being selected for another job here on base. I would be doing what security functions I did when I was in my last year on active duty, and the pay is better, less stress, etc etc. I really hope I get it. I will miss the people at the clinic here, but I am trying to set myself up for a good position when we PCS back to the States, and this is a stepping stone to that.

The opportunity to go to OTS has surfaced again, and I think I will decline. I really do feel that for me, and the family, life is greener for me on the outside of the Air Force.

I have a story I was writing....and the characters were voluntarily in the story, but hating what I was trying to get them to do. They didn't like it. Didn't like the flow of the scenarios, told me it was unnatural for them. So I said, ok, if I scrap this, can we start over with a different way to tell the story of what happens with you three? They agreed. So I'll try again. Soon.

On a lighter, more personal note, sometimes happiness comes along and surprises you. People come in and out of our lives regularly, especially those of us who are affiliated with the military. Some folks become a more permanent part of our lives, and for those I am always grateful. A'yo Ak'Nashki. I'm pretty sure I butchered that, but I think the jist of it will get across....

So it's a week later

And my car still hasn't been towed back to Mildenhall Village. UGH. Drives me crazy the lack of speed that the British have. I need things out of my car! Bring it back and decide what the inusrance company is going to do with it!!

GAAAAA....makes me a bit nuts.

60 days

Alright, I've been on the job for 60 days. Ok, almost 60 days. And wow is about all I can say as to the experience.

Let's say that life on the other side of the blue suit (in the civilian world working for the Air Force) is much greener than wearing the suit again. I don't have to drink the so-called koolaid that the military has to swallow, which is nice. I don't have to stay at work til all hours because someone screwed something up and we are all being punished for the sins of the few.

No, life on the other side is better....sure, there's still the headaches of micro-management, but if you stare at the PC like you're really busy with work, that annoying person will walk away when they aren't being paid any attention.

So what's a girl do when she gets the job with the agency she's wanted to work for? She starts looking for the next step....and yes, I am on the lookout for the next job...trying to set myself up for a good position when I get back to the US in a year and a half...

So I'm writing more, sewing more, and otherwise enjoying not being a college student...

Graduation was good....I had Macaroni Grill twice, which is all to the good, as I love eating there. Now, it's been over a month since I officially graduated from college ( I love the term Alumnus), and I STILL don't have my degree in hand. Am I aggravated? Oh hell yea......I WANT MY DEGREE!!!!!!!!

Alright.....I'm off. More to come, as always.

What dreams may come

Well, first off, since the Air Force is currently overmanned....I can't apply for OTS.

I started my job this week. I work at the dental clinic on base. And sure enough, on my second day, I meet Ms. You Took My Job. Apparently she'd applied for this same position (she's a contractor and a veteran) and I got it rather than her, and well, let's say she pointed it out to me. Rudely? Maybe a little. But I've been known to fight fire with fire. So I casually point out to her that I was told at my interview that I was guaranteed the job unless I refused it. Sure, that might have been playing a little dirty. But you know what? I didn't really care at that point in time.

So far, the job is semi-interesting, if not a bit monotonous. But since I don't have computer access right now, there's not a whole lot that I can do. It's fine, because there's a whole boatload of in processing that I have to do now that I'm a federal employee. Fun. but hey, it's decent money, good benefits, and pretty good job security...can't complain about that in these economic times, huh?

My graduation is in a couple weeks, and OMG am I ready to be over with it so I can hang the blasted degree on the wall!