Last night was the FRG volunteer recognition ceremony. We have them every once in a while to ... uh... recognize the work the volunteers of the FRG do. As per the name of the ceremony.
Anyway. This one was a milestone in that we were giving our former leader a (very diplomatic) send off gift for her time served as FRG leader. It was mildly awkward. The commander said she was the most important person to be recognized of the night for all her hard work, then went on to talk about all the awesome stuff we are doing with a new leader and how much better the club is. This was all layered in subtlety of course. Any one of the attendants who didn't know the background may have thought this was just a nice presentation.
But this is the Army. And everyone knows what everyone else's business is. Much like a small town.
Maybe I read too much into it. But I felt just a skitch awkward.
Then, as a surprise, the steering committee got recognized as well. That felt nice. :)
So I'm glad I went. I wasn't going to go at first because of my total body conditioning class. It ends at 4:45. The ceremony was at 5:30. It was all on post, so I could grab a quick shower and head over and made it work without being sweaty and smelly.
Ok, without being smelly. My sweatiness is hard to control after an hour workout and then a hot shower and lots of rushing around. It eventually subsided (thankfully) but I did have to dab my eyebrows on the drive over.
Plus, there was yummy punch and chocolate/vanilla swirl cake! Mmmmmm, caaaaakkkkeeeee.
John is trying (and succeeding, actually) to lose weight, so he was a bit mad that I brought us each a piece of cake home. (He elected not to go to the ceremony as there is a Commander's Conference this week here on the Arsenal. Lots of big names here. Lots of events. Lots of stress for him. He took half an Ambien last night and still didn't sleep well.) Anyway. He ate it and enjoyed it in spite of his initial dismay.
I knew he would. Cake rocks.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
It must be said...
That I love word games.
Specifically, I love word games on facebook. My favorites are Scramble, Word Challenge, Pathwords and Lexulous, which is a bastardized version of Scrabble that was called "Scrabulous" until EA games came in and said "Hey! That's our game! Give it back!" and then EA proceeded to make their own version of Scrabulous, which, in the end, sucked.
I wish I could say that my vocabulary has increased, but really, I'm just learning the spelling of new words without really knowing what they mean. Since most of these games are timed, sometimes I just trying to connect letters to see if they make a word in that particular game's dictionary. Then I think "Oh, I didn't know that was a correct spelling of a word" without bothering to look up what it actually means.
However, I rock at Scrabble now. Online and face to face. I can't say that this was a particular goal of mine, but I'm happy now that I have made progress in my Scrabble playing ability.
Plus, word games are an excellent means of procrastination.
Which is a skill I did not need to make progress on.
Specifically, I love word games on facebook. My favorites are Scramble, Word Challenge, Pathwords and Lexulous, which is a bastardized version of Scrabble that was called "Scrabulous" until EA games came in and said "Hey! That's our game! Give it back!" and then EA proceeded to make their own version of Scrabulous, which, in the end, sucked.
I wish I could say that my vocabulary has increased, but really, I'm just learning the spelling of new words without really knowing what they mean. Since most of these games are timed, sometimes I just trying to connect letters to see if they make a word in that particular game's dictionary. Then I think "Oh, I didn't know that was a correct spelling of a word" without bothering to look up what it actually means.
However, I rock at Scrabble now. Online and face to face. I can't say that this was a particular goal of mine, but I'm happy now that I have made progress in my Scrabble playing ability.
Plus, word games are an excellent means of procrastination.
Which is a skill I did not need to make progress on.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
FRG
Right when I think I am out, they suck me back in!
Over the last few months, our FRG has been undergoing an overhaul. Our defunct leader has been replaced with a high functioning, low drama, responsible, organized, power trip free individual who has really done a lot of good things in the short time she has been working. And in the meantime, the additional rumors that surfaced about our old leader from those that used to work with her just stun me. Twisting words, creating a victim role for herself because of her race and her religion (um, which is Christianity), and threatening physical violence towards others! Oh my! A short list of a very long list of accusations from her entire previous environment, both socially and professionally. And I can now say I'm not surprised. I'm just glad I never have to deal with her anymore and hopefully, they will be moving and he will be retiring.
So, now I have volunteered to help turn this group around. I attend Steering Committee meetings and help arrange special events. Although I am vehemently shunning an actual title like "Special Events Coordinator". I want to help without being obligated to help. Selfish, I know, but I always want the opportunity to say "no, thank you, I can't help this time."
Also, it gives me something to do. The restlessness of not working has gotten worse, but I am also completely shunning any job that does not have to do with my profession. The result equates to me pouting about not deciding on what to do about working here sooner. I am convinced that I am not getting interviews because I am seen as overeducated and overqualified for these jobs.
Which I am.
I probably just shouldn't have been so picky over the summer. But then I tell myself that everything happens for a reason and I was probably being picky as to give myself a little down time after the first part of the year which included planning a wedding, the event of the wedding, moving away from all my comfortable surroundings and closing my business. It's not the most convenient time to not work financially, but I think looking back, I'll understand everything worked out for the safety of my sanity. At least, that's what I'll tell myself.
Now what I do is wait for news on future events and plan to build my career in our new location.
Wherever that may be.
This well awaited job list may be even later that late January, however. Apparently the Army has also decided to rearrange job positions and vacancies, leaving all Branches scurrying and shuffling for any "job postings" to present to people so they can efficiently organize this summer's "PCS season".
You know, I could be talking out my ass and not even know it. I'm trying my best to succinctly explain what John has told me about the organization and procedures of the Army without going into detail so I don't a) bore my readers or b) put information that I shouldn't on the web.
The bottom line is - we have to wait longer for the job list. Which makes it impossible to know how much longer we have here. I have actually thought about getting licensed in IA and doing SOMEthing, even if it wasn't super profitable, but if we're only to be here for four months, it wouldn't be worth it. It we're here for 8 months, it might be. Alas, it will probably not happen.
So I'm left waiting. And volunteering for the FRG.
Over the last few months, our FRG has been undergoing an overhaul. Our defunct leader has been replaced with a high functioning, low drama, responsible, organized, power trip free individual who has really done a lot of good things in the short time she has been working. And in the meantime, the additional rumors that surfaced about our old leader from those that used to work with her just stun me. Twisting words, creating a victim role for herself because of her race and her religion (um, which is Christianity), and threatening physical violence towards others! Oh my! A short list of a very long list of accusations from her entire previous environment, both socially and professionally. And I can now say I'm not surprised. I'm just glad I never have to deal with her anymore and hopefully, they will be moving and he will be retiring.
So, now I have volunteered to help turn this group around. I attend Steering Committee meetings and help arrange special events. Although I am vehemently shunning an actual title like "Special Events Coordinator". I want to help without being obligated to help. Selfish, I know, but I always want the opportunity to say "no, thank you, I can't help this time."
Also, it gives me something to do. The restlessness of not working has gotten worse, but I am also completely shunning any job that does not have to do with my profession. The result equates to me pouting about not deciding on what to do about working here sooner. I am convinced that I am not getting interviews because I am seen as overeducated and overqualified for these jobs.
Which I am.
I probably just shouldn't have been so picky over the summer. But then I tell myself that everything happens for a reason and I was probably being picky as to give myself a little down time after the first part of the year which included planning a wedding, the event of the wedding, moving away from all my comfortable surroundings and closing my business. It's not the most convenient time to not work financially, but I think looking back, I'll understand everything worked out for the safety of my sanity. At least, that's what I'll tell myself.
Now what I do is wait for news on future events and plan to build my career in our new location.
Wherever that may be.
This well awaited job list may be even later that late January, however. Apparently the Army has also decided to rearrange job positions and vacancies, leaving all Branches scurrying and shuffling for any "job postings" to present to people so they can efficiently organize this summer's "PCS season".
You know, I could be talking out my ass and not even know it. I'm trying my best to succinctly explain what John has told me about the organization and procedures of the Army without going into detail so I don't a) bore my readers or b) put information that I shouldn't on the web.
The bottom line is - we have to wait longer for the job list. Which makes it impossible to know how much longer we have here. I have actually thought about getting licensed in IA and doing SOMEthing, even if it wasn't super profitable, but if we're only to be here for four months, it wouldn't be worth it. It we're here for 8 months, it might be. Alas, it will probably not happen.
So I'm left waiting. And volunteering for the FRG.
Otis
John and I have wanted a pet for FOR-EVER. But, with travel and distance and weddings and moving and holiday travel, we decided that after the holidays would be the time to adopt a pet so we would have ample time to bond and get the animal used to his or her new home. He wants another puppy very badly. He had a yellow lab puppy that he had to give away to his commander's son before he PCS'd to Kuwait. It was very heartbreaking for him and he still gets updates on Davis. He now knows that if we get a dog, I will be here to help take care of it if he has to leave again. But again, with so many moves up and coming, we decided that this might not be a good time. We have wanted a kitty for a while too, so a kitty is what we adopted for an overall "lower maintenance" pet. We have been looking at kitties for MONTHS at PetSmart and, as luck would have it, found one we liked on our second trip after we got home from Colorado after Christmas.
His name is Otis. He's a 6 month old neutered male from a shelter about 100 miles away in Illinois. PetSmart hosts different shelters for 2 week stints to help the adoption process. His momma was a stray. Little did we know we ended up adopting the rare squeaking ninja cat.
He's charcoal gray, so in the shadows, he *really* blends in. He also moves fairly silently throughout the house, so more often than not, it happens that we think we know where he is, only to find he has moved. He was in the same room, then he's not. He's under the bed, then suddenly under foot. He's rarely vocal. In fact, when he does meow, it's usually a squeak. I have heard him full out meow, but that was under extreme duress. He had snuck, ninja cat style, under the recliner and quickly let me know of his presence when I was unaware that I was squishing him as I put the foot rest down. Other times, he'll open his mouth as if to meow and no sound comes out at all.
He has adapted very well to his new home and family and now it seems like we have had him all along. This is a good thing, I expect. He also has already earned numerous nicknames.
"Otis McGoatis"
"The Spunkmeyer" (from Otis Spunkmeyer muffins and cookies)
"Squeaky McGee"
"Kit-ten" (must be said in very distinct syllables)
"Crackhead"
The last name refers to habits that have developed. He loves his toys. We got him some feathers tethered to a rod, much like a fishing pole. A fishing pole for cats. We also got him felted mice. He loves to bat them around and run around the house with them. Even the feather bunch on the rod. He'll get it in his mouth and trot around the house with the rod trailing behind him. We usually find these items later "hidden". Under John's desk, in our closet, under the coffee table, buried in a blanket, and most recently, tucked in a pocket of John's ACU pants, which were laying on the guest bed. Anywhere he can put them. But sometimes...he just runs around like a crackhead with a felted mouse in his mouth.
But he's affectionate, he's cute, he's soft, he's purry, he's interactive and loves to play, and he's loyal.
But maybe only because he knows we are the humans who feed him.
His name is Otis. He's a 6 month old neutered male from a shelter about 100 miles away in Illinois. PetSmart hosts different shelters for 2 week stints to help the adoption process. His momma was a stray. Little did we know we ended up adopting the rare squeaking ninja cat.
He's charcoal gray, so in the shadows, he *really* blends in. He also moves fairly silently throughout the house, so more often than not, it happens that we think we know where he is, only to find he has moved. He was in the same room, then he's not. He's under the bed, then suddenly under foot. He's rarely vocal. In fact, when he does meow, it's usually a squeak. I have heard him full out meow, but that was under extreme duress. He had snuck, ninja cat style, under the recliner and quickly let me know of his presence when I was unaware that I was squishing him as I put the foot rest down. Other times, he'll open his mouth as if to meow and no sound comes out at all.
He has adapted very well to his new home and family and now it seems like we have had him all along. This is a good thing, I expect. He also has already earned numerous nicknames.
"Otis McGoatis"
"The Spunkmeyer" (from Otis Spunkmeyer muffins and cookies)
"Squeaky McGee"
"Kit-ten" (must be said in very distinct syllables)
"Crackhead"
The last name refers to habits that have developed. He loves his toys. We got him some feathers tethered to a rod, much like a fishing pole. A fishing pole for cats. We also got him felted mice. He loves to bat them around and run around the house with them. Even the feather bunch on the rod. He'll get it in his mouth and trot around the house with the rod trailing behind him. We usually find these items later "hidden". Under John's desk, in our closet, under the coffee table, buried in a blanket, and most recently, tucked in a pocket of John's ACU pants, which were laying on the guest bed. Anywhere he can put them. But sometimes...he just runs around like a crackhead with a felted mouse in his mouth.
But he's affectionate, he's cute, he's soft, he's purry, he's interactive and loves to play, and he's loyal.
But maybe only because he knows we are the humans who feed him.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Christmas
I have yet to blog about Christmas. I blame my busy schedule and all I have "to do" but that's quite the laughable excuse! I have nothing BUT time and am not very good at using it. I am only good at time management when I have lots to do.
So forgive me if I have lots to say today. Orrrr, maybe over the next week. I am procrastinator extraordinaire!
So, Christmas.
Isn't it funny when the fuzzy warm memories of our past taint the present? With the weather moving in the week before Christmas, I was anxiously pulling up The Weather Channel website and looking at the forecast for our long drive across I-80. What was once clear was suddenly showing snow in every GD town across Nebraska and Iowa on the day we were to drive. We thought about taking off Wednesday night and staying a night somewhere along the way to break up the drive and get ahead of the precipitation. But instead of the half day John had to work, it turned into a full, exhausting day due to a visit from a new Congressman. Many posts (but this post in particular, due to it's size...or lack thereof) aim to please our law makers as they also heavily influence our funding.
So, I was a bit worried. I was anxious that we wouldn't make it! What would come of our holiday if we didn't make it??? Oh, the travesty! I had all the presents wrapped and packed! All the baked goods baked! There was so much joy to share!! What if we didn't make it????
Well, we made it just fine. (A bit of snow in IA, but not much else. Just a long and boring drive.) But, it was just not the warm and fuzzy Christmas I remembered of years gone past.
Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that sometimes our memories of warm and fuzzy Christmases past are somewhat over romanticized and we don't remember how hectic they can actually be...often leading to disappointment. Well, there is truth in that. But there are a few years, when the whole family is together, and we are at my parents house and it's snowing and there is game playing and hikes, and playing in the back yard, and a general over consumption of food and drink...and laughter. There are a few years in my memory that really stick out as some of my favorite Christmases. 1995, my senior year in Highschool. 2002 with all of us in Mexico (ok...not with the snowing and hikes, but with diving). 2004 when everybody was in town and I met Kelsea (at 8 mos old) and we had a great New Years as well. That was also the year of the Turducken. And 2006 for the twins' first Christmas...when it was the first of 4 blizzards that would sweep through Colorado that winter. These are all in my (relative) adulthood. Of course I don't expect anything like in my childhood.
But, alas, it was not to be. Grandma forgot her hearing aids and rather than be perplexed by the conversation we were having, she opted to turn up the basketball game to full volume so that a) she could hear it and b) it would drown everyone else out. Which, in turn, did not allow for conversation between us unless we were shouting. One member of my family, who shall remain unidentified, insisted upon monopolizing the conversation so much that it was hard to get a word in edgewise. It was all just very loud and stressful.
The only tradition that was really observed was stockings and Swedish Pastry and standing rib roast. No Scotch Eggs, as I had promised John, as Mom wanted to try an Amish egg casserole. It was OK. I was in charge of the ribbon salad (jello type dessert) and between the fat free cream cheese, the stale marshmallows and the half recipe it just did not turn out well.
I guess I really wanted to show John what a McClurkin Christmas was like and how much I adored them. The rest of the trip went well, however. Much more like I had imagined it, but with fewer people - just my folks and my aunt and us. We drank, played games, went on hikes, had lunch with friends, and ate snacks. Yes, I brought too many snacks. Yes, I gained a MILLION pounds. Yes, I'm surprised my heart didn't give way under the load of butter I shoved down my gullet. (In the form of baked treats and side dishes.)
At the end of Christmas, I just looked at him and said "Next year, if you're here (meaning stateside), we can do whatever you want." We can go to Chico, we can stay home, we can go to Houston (as Joel and his fam is much more fun to hang around and no longer travel to my parent's house for Christmas because it's just too much trouble with small twin children). I don't care.
But, after all my excitement of sharing our family Christmas with the newest member of our family, I suddenly realized things will never be like it was again. I miss it, but am excited for when we have our own Christmas. And we can make the parents choose where they want to be for the holiday. For the first time, I really really empathized with my sister in law. She was the one who started putting her foot down when it came to "coming home" at the holidays with the kids.
But I just get it now.
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