I’m back at it again with this military stuff. Fourteen days of having to leave the area where I sleep and having to go to another building just to be able to use the shower and restroom (it could be worse, we could be in the field, and I could be doing my business in the woods *shudder*).
I’m not going to say where I am, but will just say I’m not too far from home. I remember two years ago we took a bus from Georgia to Upstate New York, that took 22 hours. Last year was slightly better with a 10-hour bus ride to Arkansas. Even though the drive to New York was hell, the accommodations were pretty awesome: 2-man rooms in a shared suite shared restroom and full kitchen. This place…eh…not so much. But at least we are indoors.
Even though I can’t wait to retire, I really appreciate being in the Army. It has made realize all thing things I take for granted on a daily basis, like indoor plumbing and not having to shower with 10+ other people. I’ve learned a lot being here, especially about myself and the kind of person I can be. I’ve learned to prioritize my life, coordinate, lead, follow, plan for the future, and take my career goals more seriously (in the civilian world as well).
But anyway, I’m here for the next two weeks, which always feels like months to me. I knew that being in the Reserves was the best option for me because even though it is only once a month, the times we train for 3 days instead of 2 I feel like they take forever. So when we have these 2+ week events, I feel like I’m going to die (figuratively speaking). I like the people I work with, but after about 4-5 days I get sick of looking at people, and I want to go home. It happens on vacation too. Four days seems to be my max when it comes to being away from home.
I’ll take more pictures while I’m here and post them at later time.
Adulting is hard. There are some days where I am cool with adulting, but then there are other days like this past Wednesday (or was it last Wednesday??) where I am ready to give it up all up, quit my job, cash out my bank accounts and 401K, move to another country and live out of a backpack for the rest of my life. When I wasn’t traveling, would either be writing or some in shape or form documenting my experience. I even found an article on Twitter about couples who’ve done that very thing. Trust me, I almost had a plan.
I’m not sure if Lorenzo would go for it, but he does surprise me sometimes. I think if I present it just right, I might get him to go through with it. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I started school again a few weeks ago and Lorenzo and I are still in the process of trying to purchase our first home. His mom has been in town for the past few months and he’s had a few sudden death’s in family so he’s been traveling for those as well. I see my husband every day, but I always feel like I don’t get to spend any time with him. His commute is longer now so that means he leaves earlier, gets home later, and with everything else we both have going on (school, military, family), the only time we spend together is the few nights a week we have dinner. Now imagine if we had kids!
Even though I’m new to this whole “marriage” thing I assume that spending “quality time” together is important, even if you don’t get to do it often. We have married friends who come home to each other and don’t even kiss and ask how each other’s day was. Its just a verbal recognition of “Hey” and that’s it. Lorenzo still makes an effort to come in and kiss me when he comes home, but I’m dreading the day he stops. Time has been flying by so quickly that I had to schedule an afternoon with him- just for me- and even that day we both had errands to run.
I’m not sure how people do it. I blame Daylight Savings for taking that extra hour away from me; I kind of need it back. I’ve been wanting to write for weeks now I just haven’t had time to do it (I have 4 drafts just sitting, waiting to be finished). Can I retire now? There are books I want to read and I think my novel is waiting.
I’ve been trying to figure out for the past few weeks how to write this in away that won’t be held against me later on in court, in the strange event that something does actually happen to my husband and for some reason it looks like I did it. Let me preface by saying: I don’t ACTUALLY want to kill my husband. I think that sometimes I get so irritated with him that I think I want to kill him, but I don’t. He’s just happens to be irritating me at that particular point in time and I don’t know how to handle it.
Is this what marriage is? Dealing with someone whom you love so much, yet at the same time can’t stand the sight of, but yet if they weren’t around you’d be sad? Just me? Probably. Lorenzo irritates me sometimes. Half the time I don’t know why, but I just really understand why some women keep cast iron skillets in the house. They are not just for grilled cheese sandwiches. I don’t even know if he knows that I want to strangle him sometimes. I think he does though…I can’t hide my facial expressions.
I asked my sister if she ever felt this way with her fiancé. She agreed. She said she really wants to kill him sometimes, but then she knows she’ll be pissed at him for actually dying so she doesn’t chance it. I remember having dinner one night with another couple, I am not even sure what happened but one minute everything was cool and then the next thing I know my friend is calling her fiancé annoying. He asked what he did, she said, “You’re breathing. You breathing annoys me. Ughh, you’re so annoying.” After a minute, Lorenzo laughed. I looked at him like he was crazy and said, “What are you laughing at? You’re annoying too.” I had to ask my friend who’s been with her husband for a total of 20 years how she doesn’t kill her husband every week. Her answer, with no hesitation: lots of prayer.
Am I just crazy? Seriously, that’s a real question because its like, one minute I love, love, love him, he’s #BAE, and he can do no wrong; and the next I want to throw things at him. Or vice versa; he’ll purposely do things to get under my skin then turn around and be super sweet (usually in the form of getting me food). Maybe I’m just hungry. I don’t know. And I’m about 175% sure I get on his last nerve as well, but if I ask he’ll probably feel like I’m trying to set him up or something, so I’ll never get an honest answer. On a good day.
I had military training this past weekend and one of my friends was bothering me. When we arrived to our barracks we had to wait for someone to get keys. A friend of mine walked over to me and said:
“The females have to sleep outside” To which I promptly responded, “Fuck that.”
He laughed and said that he can never quite get used to me cursing because even though he knows that I do, that I don’t look like I do so it always throws him off.
I use profanity and I like to use it quite often. I’ve been doing it (properly) since I was 18. I’ve tried to quit in the past, and even had a swear jar at work for a few months (yes… MONTHS)…twice, but I can never seem to kick the habit completely. Why? I guess because deep down I really don’t want to. One of the biggest annoyances I have about it is that when people turn to me and say, “Its not ladylike”, especially coming from someone in the military, because dude…really? If I’m dropping f-bombs like nobody’s business, the LAST thing I’m trying to do is be a “lady”. I don’t know if I ever really was one, but that’s another story for another day.
Now don’t get me wrong, I do have some self control. I don’t curse around children or my elders (mother-in-law, my father, older family members/friends), professional settings, etc. so its not that I don’t have enough words in my vocabulary to express what I’m trying to say without cursing, its just something I choose to do. Its something I like to do. Most of the people in my life curse as well, including some coworkers so I am almost surrounded by people who are fellow profanity users. Which probably doesn’t help…
I think for me that swearing is one of those things that I will just stop doing when I’m just tired of doing it, like when people smoke for 30 years and then just quit cold turkey and never go back. I think for now I still do it for shock value; I get a kick out of the faces that people make when they hear me curse for the first time…or the 70th (some never really get used to it). I always say that if I had my own kid I would finally quit, but then I think about all my friends who curse their kids out on a regular basis. I mean, I learned profanity from MY parents…so there’s that. Oh well.
Growing up I had a really bad case of diarrhea of the mouth. I literally didn’t think before I spoke which always prompted my father to say, “P, think before you speak.” I didn’t know what he meant by this. Other adults in my life just dubbed me as a “smart ass”instead of just either engaging my curiosity or just telling me they didn’t know; I think it was just easier for them to get angry and make it seem like something was wrong with me for asking questions. I realized later on that some of the things I used to say were kind of hurtful and overly opinionated, when I just thought I was being honest.
Even though I’ve never been one to sugar coat, I have learned that not every action deserves my reaction. Just because someone is venting to me, it doesn’t mean that they are asking for my opinion on the matter (I’ve actually gotten to the point that I don’t even offer an opinion unless it’s asked of me). Some of my friends and I have had disagreements because of my “direct” and “honest” approach. I just don’t feel like I should validate your feelings just because we’re friends- if I think you’re wrong, then I’m going to say that. People really don’t get much sympathy from me when they complain about things they can’t control- and its even worse when they complain about things they CAN control but choose not to do anything about it. Like…what?
So now, I just let people talk. I let people say crazy things while I just blink and stare because: A) it doesn’t directly affect me, B) I’m not going to do anything about it, and nor do I want to, or C) they really don’t know they’re talking about and its a complete waste of my time to try to persuade anyone’s opinion. So I don’t say anything when people tell me their crazy weight loss plans of starving themselves for a few weeks, instead of eating foods that are actually good for you and exercising; or that they are “too old” to learn to eat better. I say nothing as people tell my husband and I how we should plan our lives, spend our money, and how many potential children we should have. I keep quiet as people get extremely emotional about things that will have zero effect on them, like how celebrities choose to spend their money (Lorenzo actually laughs at people who do this on social media).
Even though I’ve learned to control my brain-to-mouth filter, I’m still secretly judging some of you. Just know that. I think most people are full of it and don’t know how to practice critical thinking skills. Some people need to learn to look at the bigger picture, others need to do research before spewing out half truths mixed with personal opinions as if they’re actual facts (Seriously, just because someone is loud or aggressive about a point doesn’t mean they’re right). It all just reminds me of a quote by Abraham Lincoln-
Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt.
I swear that my husband is the most patient man on the planet. He has to be. He’s always calm and even when he is frustrated he doesn’t raise his voice. He’s never overly emotional and he so far above any pettiness that its inspiring for me to stop worrying about things and opinions that don’t matter. But of all that, most importantly, he puts up with me. Every. Single. Day.
Sometimes I feel like I am a walking train wreck. Other times, I feel like I have it all together and I’m the shit and you can’t tell me otherwise. There are days when I get so caught up in my own madness that Lorenzo will stop and ask me, “What are you thinking about?” because my emotions ALWAYS show on my face. Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I never met him. Would I have ever giving up this ridiculous pattern of dating men who obviously didn’t want the same things I wanted? Would I have ever fallen in love again? Would I have ever gotten married?
Honestly, about a month before I met Lorenzo I’d decided that I was just going to be single for the rest of my life. It wasn’t that I was refusing to date, I just didn’t think there was a man out there for ME-someone who could be compatible with me and my personality that I actually wanted to spend my life with who didn’t get on my nerves. I was even super skeptical of Lorenzo when we met, and it didn’t help that the first 8 months we were dating one of my co-workers almost had me convinced that he was going to kill me (she’s since given up on that idea but I haven’t, he IS a Marine for crying out loud).
Anyway, I’m grateful and blessed and happy to have my husband. He’s taught me so much about who I wanted to be, just by being himself. His maturity level is on 98 (he has his petty moments), he taught me what it feels like to have someone take care of me without wanting anything in return. He holds me accountable, challenges me, and doesn’t tolerate any of my crap. He’s never disrespectful and his communication skills are immaculate. Having a chance to know the people in his circle has helped me pick better friends- his friends actually help each other in times of need, there is no drama, and they all take care of each other. Its really something to strive for. He’s always really warm and he massages my scalp if I ask. He knows how to cook and doesn’t get all bent out of shape if I want to go shopping.
Don’t get me wrong, there are times where we end up on the wrong side of each other’s attitude, like when we went to Pappadeaux and bought gumbo and he took mine to work… (*sigh*) but, so far, its nothing we can’t handle. So…shoutout to him.
So I was having a conversation with my father a few weeks ago, and he just reminded me of all the reasons why I always thought he was so cool. My parents had me pretty young; they were barely out of high school at the time. I didn’t realize how young my parents were until I entered college and all of my friend’s parents were 10 and 20 years older than mine. Anyway, I was talking with my Dad about if he would let me take care of him if he’d ever gotten to the point that he couldn’t take care of himself. I asked him if he would trust my decision-making skills when it came to his health and his affairs. He said, “P, I’ve trusted your judgment since you were five years old. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me so yes, I would let you take care of me.”
He says this now, but I remember a time when we almost got into a fight when I wanted to take him to the eye doctor to get his vision checked. He acted like I was taking him to get a seeing eye dog when it turned out all he needed was reading glasses…but I digress. One thing I’ll give him (and my mother) credit for was that they always just encouraged us to be ourselves, whatever that might be. They never tried to force their personal agendas on us. All my parents wanted for us was to accomplish certain things: graduate high school, go to college, don’t have kids, stay out of jail. Pretty simple list.
Dad and I (early 80’s and 2015)
My father’s direction growing up was all about school. Up until I entered college all I heard from him was, “Books and boys don’t mix,” and “You don’t need any friends, you need to know your school work,” When I started dating, like for real dating, he pretty much left me alone. I was with a guy for about five years in and after college. My dad never really said much about the relationship, and he was always nice to my ex, so I found it a little surprising when I told him that we were having problems and he basically told me I didn’t have to put up with it. That’s when I knew he was only nice to my ex because he thought I was happy. Once it showed that I wasn’t, he was completely supportive of my decision to break up with him (and he took it as a personal opportunity to roast my ex- yes, my father can be very petty at times). I knew then that I could talk to him about anything.
Because he’s a pretty simple guy, my siblings and I try to take him out to different places to do and try different things. He isn’t very accepting of change; up until about 2009 he still walk around with a cassette player until my sister got so fed up she bought him an iPod. We did the same thing with a smart phone and a tablet. The only high tech stuff he likes is music equipment and video games, so we always pitch in and buy him tech related gifts for his birthday (much to my step-mother’s protest). My next biggest challenge is getting him to visit me here in Atlanta. He hates to fly, and I’m trying hard to convince him that it’ll be so much easier to spend less than 3 hours on a plane than spending 15+ hours in a car.
Wish me luck.
Dad and I (on a random outing)