The other side of the fence

Okay, it is time to come clean.

I'm that girl. The one who volunteers for everything. Who never met a raffle ticket or bake sale that she wouldn't volunteer for. The one who made meals whenever she was called, put her name on the list to organize, volunteered to organize and decorate for events...and felt superior to everyone else because of it.

Or I should say, I used to be that girl.

New base + new squadron + new job = I've become the girl** I used to disdain- the one who says "Look, I'm busy! And what has the squadron done for me?" I used to hate that attitude of entitlement; I had a hard time with people who just showed up to social things, and never put their name down to volunteer. If you wanted something from the squadron, you should give back to it!

But seriously, I can't. I just can't. I've got obligations at work and in our parish and voluteering in the squadron is something that I want to do, but I just can't. And I hate that I used to judge people like me... and I'll be honest, I'm still sort of judging myself. I find myself hesitating to take advantage of squadron resources (or to show up to any events at all) because I haven't volunteered for a single thing, and I'm probably not going to any time soon.

** I would use the gender neutral term here, except I've never met a male spouse who was involved in the squadron spouses groups....lots of great male spouses who were supportive, awesome gentleman who go out of their way to help their friends, yes...but the people decorating for the kids Christmas Party are always women.

Dinner for one

Quick question:

Would you rather go out to eat by yourself or cook for yourself at home?

I hate cooking for myself. I did it by necessity when I was living by myself and broke. Now? Well, I don't technically live by myself. And we are not technically broke.

But I feel that same loathing rising in my heart, nonetheless. I keep making myself eggs, because that is all I can bring myself to cook. Luckily, our house is inconveniently located to nearly all local restaurants, both sit down and fast food, otherwise I would drop a lot of coin on dinners out. Unfortunately, I can also spend a few hours after work shopping and then head to dinner before driving all the way home. Which is also a lot of coin, but at least I got 2 nice sweaters, some curtains and a few candles out of the deal.

When I do this, I generally go to Buffalo Wild Wings (shut up, I like them). By myself. With a book. Because that is how I roll.

I always sit in the same section (the only one with decent lighting, so I can read my book). I always get the same waitress. And she always calls me honey/sweetie/etc which somehow makes me feel even lamer than being in what is essentially a sports bar reading a book.

But I do love their wings.

one thing I love about the air force

My husband is okay with making cookies.I'm not saying Navy/Marines/Army aren't...but...

I know that some branches (our friend T who is Navy) think that the AF is a little out there, but Einstein is making cookies for me right now, which is pretty sweet. And I'm with my sis, and talking about a million things. Seriously, though, I love our new location, and our base, and and and...my baby sister is here, which is better than anything.


nomad.

One is silver, the other is gold

One of my mother's favorite refrains when I was growing up was "Make new friends but keep the old; one is silver, but the other is gold." While I generally prefer silver to gold (and silver vs. gold insignia denotes the higher rank, haha) I definitely agree with the premise of what my mother was trying to say.

The problem is that I'm not sure how to put it into action. I'm fairly decent at making new friends, I think. I'm not like other people I've observed, who seem to make best friends with the first person they meet at a new base, and remain BFF's for the rest of their lives. Nonetheless, I do find it easy to be friendly with people, and from there, to develop real friendships as I get to know them better.

Unfortunately, I am horrible at long distance communication. This is ironic, since Einstein and I maintained a long distance relationship for 4 years, and still have what I would affectionately refer to as a "commuter" marriage. Although I've never struggled with calling/emailing him, I am horrible at it with the rest of the world.

My most frequent email correspondent is my mother-in-law, mostly because I would feel pretty guilty if I ignored her emails, and also because our communication styles mesh: short, to the point, with a little humor thrown in for good measure.

I am horrible at long, chatty emails, and I am even worse at the telephone. I loathe the phone. I prefer email and texting. I often let my phone go to voicemail and rarely return voicemails once I listen to them (which can take an embarrassingly long time). I star blogs in my reader to comment on them, and then never do it. I star emails for later reply, archive them, and forget all about them. I intend to send cards and letters and never do.I remind myself of birthdays and forget to call/text/facebook whatever.

While some friends are fine with this, others clearly hate me for not communicating more efficiently. Also, as more of my friends become long distance friends, it gets harder and harder to keep up. I wonder if my expectation are too high, or if I am just a crappy friend? I don't know. I do try, especially for people I know value certain types of communication, but there are some friends that I have grown apart from and I'm not sure if that is inevitable or if it is my fault.

I guess I just have to do the best I can, and try to find some way to balance the silver and the gold.

Trip down memory lane

The other night, Einstein and I were discussing a system for getting the dishes done.

I like to set up systems to do the dishes so that I can avoid having to actually do them.

I was reminiscing about my system for doing dishes in our old apartment, and Einstein mentioned that he couldn't picture our old apartment. Which surprised me, because I still think of our apartment as home. Based on past experience, it takes me at least six months to start to forget the details about wherever I lived before.

Other than my parents house and my college campus, I've never really gone back to places I've lived before. We have friends who really enjoy visiting old postings, driving past old houses, staying on base, eating in favorite restaurants, etc. I think I would enjoy it, too, but we haven't had a chance yet to go back and visit any of our old haunts.

Really, really good friends

I know that people in the milspouse blogsphere talk a lot about how civilians don't get it. And sometimes, they just don't, like LAW's coworkers. I've blogged before about friends who don't understand the basics of military life and family members who are truly oblivious.

But there are some friends who, while they may not "get" it, are always willing to offer a listening ear. I have one friend, in particular, who is fantastic about this. She truly wants to understand what is going on in my life (and Einstein's). She asks intelligent questions, remembers acronyms (!!!!), and is always willing to lend a sympathetic ear.

I don't know what I would do without her.

Although she lives 1,000+ miles away right now, I've been relying on her a lot lately. I love my military friends, but it can be difficult to support each other when we are all dealing with the same frustrations. I feel petty complaining about my own apprehension over not knowing what Einstein will fly in the future and when and where we are moving next when all of my friends here are in the same boat.

I just spent 5 minutes trying to think of a way of expressing that thought without using the word "boat", since it sounds so Navy... ;)

So my far-away friend has been a godsend lately. I hope she knows how much I appreciate her sympathetic ear and understanding emails. They mean the world to me!

I hate waiting to find out what is coming next. It is driving me CRAZY. I'm a planner, and not being able to plan out the rest of this year is driving me up the wall. I guess I'd better get used to it, though, huh?

I don't understand

My mother has made a very strange request.

She wants a picture of Einstein and I for the family Christmas letter.

She wants a picture of Einstein and I where he ISN'T in uniform.

Uhm?

I'm trying to understand this request. It wouldn't be a problem, except for the unfortunate fact that other than pictures where he is in uniform, the only pictures we have of the past year are ones where either one of us (or both of us) is inebriated or where I look hideous. Truly awful.

So I told her I didn't have a photo of us that fit her requirements, and asked if I could just send her one with him in uniform.

She said no, she wanted one that was about "our" life and not "his" life.

WHAT? This IS my life. This is OUR life. The military is not some strange hobby of his; it is our life. Yes, I have my own career, my own hobbies. But seriously...I just don't get it.

My mom is not anti-military. She has never seemed to have a problem like this one in the past. I know she is frustrated because most of the pictures that I send are of him with planes, but honestly, that's what we take pictures of! Sorry! That and cheesy shots of my Christmas tree, but whatever.

I don't know if anyone has any insights; I'm not sure what to think.

Pilot Training, Part III

As I've mentioned before, I got a ton of unasked for advice about how busy Einstein would be, how much my life would suck, etc.

Before I move on to the subject of today's post, I am going to go ahead and say, yes, Einstein is busy. Yes, some nights (like tonight) I come home and make dinner and know that he won't eat it with me. Boo hoo. I don't think pilot training is anyone's ideal of newlywed life, but it is not horrible. He gets weekends off, even if he does spend most of the weekend studying. We live amongst a super close community of people our age all dealing with the same issues. Also, the noise of jets overhead is just plain (plane?? haha pun!) cool. But yes. The rumors are true. Expect that of the 13 months of training, your spouse will spend at least 6 of them (if not more) working full 12 hour days, and studying most of the other 12 per day. Accept the long hours, see "Pilot Training, Post II", stock up on Lean Cuisines, and move on.

Now, on to address what I consider to be the most difficult part of pilot training. The emotional work. And I do mean work. Pilot training is mentally and physically exhausting, but the emotional exhaustion that the students struggle with is harder. The always hanging overhead knowledge that you are in direct competition with the other students in your class. The "tough love" or really, just tough, teaching methods of some of the Instructor Pilots. The fact that the pace never lets up- there is always something coming up that must be studied for and prepared. I thought that Einstein had the market cornered on mental (and emotional) toughness. I still think he does, in comparison to some of the dudes we know here.

BUT. It is so hard to find the emotional reserves to be his supporter and cheerleader. Especially on days like today, when I would like a little attention myself. It is hard to maintain the "Hey, you can do it!" attitude when you know that your location and lifestyle depend on how well he does in training. His frustration, mostly with himself, can be hard to deal with. The pressure is intense, and emotions run high.

So that is what I struggle with the most: keeping my own emotions on an even keel and helping him deal with the ups and downs of UPT. I've come to accept the highs and lows, and mostly just focus on reminding him how much I love him and how much faith I have in him.

Absent friends

Earlier this year one of our friends died. I posted about it then, and then took the post down because it was too soon, and it hurt too much and I just....didn't feel like talking about it.

It was a very different sort of grief then I had ever experienced before...unlike any loss I had known before.

For a variety of reasons- people moving on and feeling ready to talk about him, Einstein being at the same place in training, talking about things that we did with him, hearing songs on the radio that make me think of him, whatever- our friend has come up in conversation more and more in the past few weeks.

And suddenly, it's like it just happened, all over again. It scares me. I've never felt this before; always before, when I've lost some one, I've gone through all the stages of grief sequentially and neatly, like a good little girl.

The other night, lying in bed, I asked my husband if he had noticed it too. I asked him if it was causing the same fears it was in me; fears of plane crashes and knocks on the door. He said it was. I still don't know if I'm relieved or horrified that my husband is just as scared of that as I am.

But I do know that we miss you, my friend.

So I propose a toast: To absent friends.

Does this bother anyone else?

If you listen to country music, you've heard them. What I like to call the "death songs". They never fail to make me cry.

They're about men and women in uniform dying. (Usually men, but we'll save the rant on sexism for later.) "If You're Reading This" by Tim McGraw. "Bagpipes Cryin'" by Rushlow Harris. You get the idea. The other day driving to work I heard "Just a Dream" by Carrie Underwood.

If you've heard the song you know its about the same as all the others, with the difference that it is a woman singing. Anyway, a few days later I was working out at the gym, watching CMT. The video for the song came on. Objectively, it is a pretty good video, other than the crappy computer graphics when they are turning her wedding dress into a black mourning dress.

Subjectively, it pisses me off. The whole feel of the video is "old"- definitely very forties/fifties- and it makes me feel like they (whoever they are) are trying to deny that people in the military are dying today, while still trying to cash in on public awareness and sympathy for those killed in action. Maybe I feel that way because I know for a fact that most people in the US have no real sympathy for the military and their sacrifices; I often feel like the articles in PEOPLE and songs like the ones above are the manifestation of an obsession much like the one with Britney Spears:

People are willing to watch, and chide, and offer opinions and condemnation that do not one single helpful thing. They want to see each gory detail played out; see the tears on each widow's face, watch endless video of a soldier hugging her kids as she leaves on her third deployment in five years, sigh and shake their heads sadly at the Memorial Day newspaper with photos of young widows crying in Arlington. What they DON'T want to do is take any responsibility for the situation. Nor do they want to do constructive things to help.

Now, I'm not saying everyone is like this. But I honestly think that the vast majority of people like to pretend they are entitled to be voyeurs and users of military grief without ever giving back. It is sort of like when people come up to Einstein and thank him for his service. This drives him crazy, because he's never been deployed. Also, because right now the Air Force is paying him to do his favorite thing in the world: fly. While he is busy trying to come up with a coherent response ("You're welcome" is usually what he settles for, but we both agree that it feels a little brusque), I'm usually trying really hard not to ask that person if they ever do anything for our troops. Do you write letters? Send cards to deployed service members? Take a casserole to the house of that National Guard wife? Fine, you saw my husband in Walgreens or whatever and thanked him, but do you ever go out of your way to do something for military folks?

Ditto to those folks with the little yellow Support Our Troops magnets- I used to joke with Einstein that I was going to go around with a little pre-printed note with real ways to support the troops to stick under the magnets every time I saw them in a parking lot. But I decided that the paper waste would be too much for the environment to take, so I nixed the idea.

Wow. This turned into a huge rant. Sorry about that. But it still pisses me off.

Unending Anticipatory Grief

Okay. I spend enough time on Spousebuzz to realize that anticipatory grief is a pretty normal thing in the milspouse world.

My problem is that I can't turn it off, and there is no end in sight. Any day that Einstein flies is one where I fear for his safety. This isn't a problem with rational thought; trust me when I say that I know flying is safe, that Einstein is a good pilot (for a student, anyway!), that really pilot is a pretty safe job when all things are considered, and that in a training environment everyone is on their toes, etc etc etc. I get it.

I think about his death every single day. Several times each day. On the way to work. When I get to work. On my lunch break (what if they were looking for me while I was at McDonald's???). When I get home. While I wait for him to come home. I rehearse the knock, how it would happen if I was at work. It is to the point where I pick up the house before I leave in case he dies while I'm at work and I have people all over our house that night. I think about my clothes, and whether that is what I want to be wearing when they tell me my husband is dead.

The past few nights Einstein has gotten home later than anticipated for various reasons. I go into panic mode immediately, calling other wives to see if any of his flight mates are home. I'm not a wreck...it is just always there.

And I can't live like this for the rest of my life. If he were deployed, I could rationalize it. I would expect this level of obsession. But he is going to be flying nearly every day for the next ten years (hopefully! he's a grouch when he doesn't fly!) and I can't sustain this that long. I really can't. And I can't turn it off.

Seriously, how do other people cope?

I forgot how much this stinks

When Einstein and I were living a thousand miles apart, I came to a very deep understanding about how I reacted to him being gone. I actually wrote it all out on a sheet, so that I could look at it and be reminded that I wasn't crazy. My emotions had happened before and would happen again. Years of living apart taught me that I could pretty much handle it without tears, tremors or overwhelming loneliness, except for three points in our separation:

1) Immediately after we were apart. The first 2-4 days suck, no matter what.

2) The space between 2-3 weeks post separation. This is when I start to argue with him and snipe at him (if we are able to call eachother) or just start to plain resent him. I know it is just a defense mechanism; I'm angry with him, yes, but my reasons are ridiculous. Usually. There was this one time...but honestly, I pick fights (real or only in my head) in an attempt to make myself miss him less. Too bad it never works. I usually end up missing him AND being angry.

3) The last two weeks. I know from reading other folks' blogs that this isn't true for everyone. And while I feel the relief that this separation is almost over, I am too impatient! I want him home NOW! I get fidgety and uncomfortable and if we are talking on the phone our conversations become peppered with awkward pauses.

Einstein will be home in less than a week, now! So I am in full "try not to flip out" mode. My short little TDY to-do list is no where near done, and I've accepted that it is not going to get done. This is fine. I am trying to concentrate on doing a few things that will make it a little more homey around here...hopefully it will work!!