Week 28

The day before yesterday was a great day. I spoke to Joe three times. He surprised me by calling early in the morning when I was leaving for work, he then called at his usual time in the afternoon, and then, after he was woken up in the middle of the night, he called me in the evening. It made me feel as if things were normal. To be able to talk to your spouse multiple times per day is normal.

But it is still hard when the line goes dead and the silence sets in. Hanging up the phone is always hard. For me, it’s like landing in an airport and knowing that no one is there to pick you up. It's lifeless, right when you expect life to be there the most.

Yesterday was a bad day for my husband. His frustration set in and somehow how explains the trouble he experiences is always humorous. War has already become so detached. In the future we see the Facebook Wars: The Battle for the American Soul. Despite the seriousness of the situation we can still amuse ourselves. That is valuable in a relationship that is constantly under the stress of deployment.

Fatty Fatty

Another way that I am turning into my mother is that I now stand in the closet screaming, "I have nothing to wear," while trying to get my pants over my thighs. At least she was thin until she was 50. Here I am at the ripe and round age of 26 finding that all of my new cells jiggle and wondering what in the world I am doing with cellulite.

Food has been pleasure and comfort. It is also inner evil that ridicules for every bite of indulgence. You are disgusting.

I blame America. This certainly has to be the fault of my collective culture and not of my individual behavior. Like everyone, I watch The Biggest Loser while lying on the couch eating ice cream.

I am waiting for the summer. I don’t like to eat in the summer.

January Blues

I am sick and tired of deployment. I feel as though I have reached my end and I am beginning to rot from the inside out.

As much as I hate that I am afraid to be alone at night and can't sleep alone, if I haven't gotten over it in six months I don't know that I ever will. I am ready to feel safe again.

Joe reminded me that he is the one sleeping in a cargo crate. This made me feel worse for him, the same amount of bad for myself, plus guilty.

As a little child and then again as a teenager, when feeling this frustrated, I would kick and scream and break things. I now feel like kicking and screaming and breaking things, however some things have changed. First of all, I am not as ornery as I use to be, secondly anything I could break is mine and thirdly, no amount of kicking and screaming is going to bring my mother into my room to give me what I want.

I feel so angry I don’t want to have anything to do with myself.

Sometimes I feel as if I have reached the end of my rope. Then I realize at the ropes end is just more annoyed and lonely and wishing that the ropes end was synonymous with the deployment's end.
I laugh when I realize that I am turning into my mother. I think "How can I go on like this." She says it dramatically out loud and mostly in reference to another pile of cat vomit on the floor.

It goes.

Week 29

We are now in the 20ies, which is very exciting. In just three weeks we will be half way done with the deployment. While it was 70 degrees and sunny yesterday, today is chilly and raining. The weather is very confusing and I much prefer a January with 70 degrees than 50. I know, I'm spoiled.

My other neighbor is now pregnant, so in a few months we will have two infants on the block. Like my other neighbor with the one-month-old it seems that the pregnant neighbor's husband will also miss much of the pregnancy due to deployment.

Tonight is board orientation and the thought of staying at work until 7:30 tonight makes me tired.

Week 30

Yesterday I woke up to a clump of my hair on the pillow and when I looked in the mirror realized that my kitten decided to give me bangs while I was asleep. I now have a sizeable chunk of hair missing. I look like Alfalfa, except my little one-inch stub of hair sticks up in the front along the middle of my hairline rather than at the crown of my head.

I had a great weekend. My mother-in-law, her sister and best friend came down from Philly to visit me. First, I received an amazing surprise gift from my husband which made me cry. Joe spoils me rotten. As an amateur photographer, my husband has always known that I would love to have a real, professional grade camera and that was my surprise. The rest of the weekend was spent eating, drinking and carrying on.

This morning I stepped out of the house and into a delicious 60 degree morning. The sun on my face felt amazing and has been much missed during the deepest parts of the winter. As I pulled away from my house and waved goodbye to my in-laws, the glimpse of Spring gave me hope. I just might make it after all.

Talk to me

I think I must have a sign on my back that says, "talk to me." I feel as though strangers are always coming up to me and striking very strange conversations. I was in Lowes again looking at thresholds trying to figure out why all of the thresholds were 10 feet long when most doorways are more like three feet wide, when a nice older gentleman offered to help. Sure thing gramps, lemme have it.

Did I get the lecture on thresholds or what? Did you know there are a zillion different types including the T-shape, the triangle, the slope, the overlap, the underlap etc. It's really quite amazing.

Somehow this conversation turns to the man's inability to feel in his left calf. Hmmm. I will listen, but I will most certainly not rub it.

After another 15 minutes of conversation it is revealed that Agent Orange in Vietnam was the culprit. It caused nerve damage, which was somehow related to a hip replacement. The man eventually gave me the moral of the story, "if your husband so much as sneezes, you take him straight to the VA and make them pay him $1,000 a month like they do me for my Agent Orange." Yes sir.

I truly love people.

Sewing 101

My mother-in-law gave me a beautiful sewing machine for Christmas. I eyed it for about a month before I got up the nerve to take it out of the box. This past weekend, I cleared the kitchen table and placed the gleaming white machine in the middle of it. "I have big plans for you Mr. Singer."

I am a fairly crafty person; however the last thing I sewed was a washcloth that my mother gave me to practice on when I was five and even that was not without supervision.

The first project was a success. I altered my shower curtain by adding 8" of maroon material to the bottom in effect creating the world's best shower curtain if such things were based on their length and ability to match my bathroom tile. Straightness of stitches was not included in judging categories.

Well, the first success made me a little over confident and over zealous. "I will now hem dress slacks," I announced while holding my right index finger in the air.

Ha. Easier said than done. Not only is it very difficult to figure out whether or not you folded the legs the same amount (Note: ruler), everything else about the project is difficult as well. The truth is I sewed one leg closed three times before I was finished - fuckaduck (my mother's favorite swear).

Week 31

Sometimes I wish I could leave myself alone. Today, CNN announced that there was a bomb in the town of Hit, Iraq. Rather than leave it alone, I google Hit to determine how far it is from where Joe is stationed and found out that it is just the next town over. Then I missed Joe's call this morning. Deep breathing techniques help.

In other news, my chiropractor is very good-looking.