The Blogosphere has been on fire over a Marine Wives Blog. I was not able to read the post that started it all, it has since been taken down. However, I did read the imo heartfelt and genuine apology. The gist of it seems that a milspouse was very frustrated with OPSEC and this policy's resultant effect on this milspouse's inability to obtain information on her deployed Marine. Furthermore, this milspouse felt she couldn't adequately talk about her feelings in part due to OPSEC. It seems that the blogosphere ripped her a new arsehole to put it mildly. The vitriol that spewed in the comments section was down and dirty. We all have opinions, but this seems to have crossed the line beyond simply trolls and haters. The entire blog, which was a gaggle of Marine Wives blogging, has been erased.
Do I always like paying my taxes? No not always. Do I complain about paying my taxes? Yes. But do I understand and appreciate the reasons behind taxes? Yes. Do I always pay my taxes? Yes, extensions and all. And while many of you may attack me for comparing troop safety to taxes, give me some latitude here. It's an analogy folks and the only one I could come up with in this vile heat. Analogy for understanding and abiding by the rules, but from time to time getting frustrated by them.
What do most sane people do when they are frustrated? Well at least what do women do? We talk about it. Sometimes with a bit more emotion than others would deem commensurate with the situation. It seems our dear fellow blogess was blowing off emotional steam. She did not divulge any info that compromised troops. She ranted about her frustrations over a military policy. Come on bloggies, how often do we do this? Ask yourself have you ranted to a friend or on the blogosphere about: Tricare, housing, PX, Commissary, PCS, TDY, FRG, WTF? We all have.
The beauty of the blogosphere is that it has provided a home for our feelings, whether they be joy, fear, or frustration. We owe it to each other to respect each person's feelings. To not judge. To disagree respectfully. To shame a fellow milspouse who was clearly having a bad moment is disturbing. We are better than that. We can do better than that.
So dear Semperfi spouse I am formally apologizing on behalf of others out there that were perhaps also having a bad day. To those that left hateful comments; let's hope they have had some time to reflect. Like you, I make mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes. Like you, I get fired up. Everyone gets fired up from time to time. I am sorry that this week it took a pound of flesh from you. The blogosphere may roast me for what I have written. Okay. I can take it. It won't be the first or last time I have taken dog poo for standing up for something I believe in. I believe that big store we all love so much was possibly named after me. I love you Target.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Losing Control
Being a part of this whole Army life has been quite the education. If I could sum it up easily what has been the most jarring to me is the loss of control over certain aspects of my life. Having been a single career woman for my 20's and most of my 30's, I called the shots. Things were the way I wanted them. Where I lived, the job I took, where I got health care, were all within my purvey. I mean life had its own ideas from time to time, but I got to decide how I was going to deal with the messes in front of me.
When the Army sent persons to pack all my crap and move it across country I pretty much lost it. I pre-packed. Meaning I packed everything into tubs, and labeled them and then directed the packers to put each tub in one box. They thought it was great, but I pretty much know they also thought I was insane. But heck everything arrived in one piece and unpacking was relatively smooth. So I am adjusting.
My latest "choose-your-own-adventure" chapter is the health care system; TRICARE. I have always worked for the state government and had top notch health care. Blue Shield PPO. Now I have been pretty much healthy, so it has worked out well. Well things have changed. Now when I want to go to the doctor I call and get assigned to a doctor who is available. What? No patient-doctor relationship? I actually choose the wrong TRICARE option that would allow me to go off post to a civilian doc. The option I choose was more affordable. Dumb me! But I found a loophole! If you live over 30 miles from the post hospital you can go to a civilian doc. And you can keep your affordable option. I live 31 miles.
Yup I am taking back the control one system at a time. HA!
When the Army sent persons to pack all my crap and move it across country I pretty much lost it. I pre-packed. Meaning I packed everything into tubs, and labeled them and then directed the packers to put each tub in one box. They thought it was great, but I pretty much know they also thought I was insane. But heck everything arrived in one piece and unpacking was relatively smooth. So I am adjusting.
My latest "choose-your-own-adventure" chapter is the health care system; TRICARE. I have always worked for the state government and had top notch health care. Blue Shield PPO. Now I have been pretty much healthy, so it has worked out well. Well things have changed. Now when I want to go to the doctor I call and get assigned to a doctor who is available. What? No patient-doctor relationship? I actually choose the wrong TRICARE option that would allow me to go off post to a civilian doc. The option I choose was more affordable. Dumb me! But I found a loophole! If you live over 30 miles from the post hospital you can go to a civilian doc. And you can keep your affordable option. I live 31 miles.
Yup I am taking back the control one system at a time. HA!
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Nothing is going to happen in my living room
Especially when I have managed to disconnect the Cable and Internet for several days! Just when I get the balls to blog I FUBAR everything, but it was fixed and the Hubs was very understanding.
However what I am really about to go on about is getting my social life going here in the Deep South. Being single forever I once had a good friend advise me that "Nothing was going to happen in your living room", so I better be proactive and get out there. Well, I had been proactive. I had done every imaginable dating enterprise around; Jdate, Match, eHarmony, OKcupid. I had done forced activities; speed dating, art walks, scavenger hunts, mixers, volunteering, kayaking, protesting for singles, you name it. However, while I would meet some nice people I never really met anyone special. In part I blame this on the over-abundance of metro-sexuals and douche-bags in the San Francisco Bay Area. At least that is what I told myself during my bitter moments.
I also began to experience attrition in my friendships. As my friends got married, had kids, they would leave the City and head to the 'burbs. While we would remain friends, understandably the friendships would change. I found myself thinking that I had something in common with senior citizens. They too must experience attrition/dying off of their friends. They too, like me, were being forced to make friends with younger folk. So in my mid-thirties I was becoming friends with some mid-twentysomethings. I admit it, at first I was a bit embarrassed. However, when people would exclaim they couldn't believe I was the age that I was, (I do look young due to being a bit chubby which pushes out your wrinkles), I began to feel like a bit of a rock star. Albeit an aging one. But I did seem to fit in just fine. There were some moments when younger person's drama was a bit tiring, but I was equally invigorated by their fresh outlook on life (cliché but true) and ability to party all night long. I had a shitload of fun and made some truly wonderful friends. Ultimately my proactive efforts to get out of my living room, led me to meet my husband. WIN!!!
So here I am today forcing myself to get out of my living room and make some friends. Here in the sweaty south in a military community has proved to be quite different than the big City. I am very fortunate that one of the Hubs' besties' wife is freaking awesome!!! We have the beginnings of a truly solid friendship. That makes me happy. But I know myself and know I need more than one friend, I am someone that runs about, and I need multiple partners in crime.
So I went to my trusted friend, craigslist, and found a Meet-up group for Army Wives. So far I have been to two events and have indeed enjoyed myself. But wow, it is different. Before ya'll jump down my shit and call me out for being a snob, this is not about snobbery. At least I don't think it is. I went to a salad luncheon, like bring your favorite salad, cool! For over three hours the discussion covered the following topics; helping our husbands find their equipment, recipes, what we pack in our husband's lunches and coupons. While I was thinking snarky thoughts, I realized that the above pretty much summed up my daily life. Everyone was perfectly nice and I will continue to hang out with these very nice ladies.
But dang has my peer group changed! Yes in many ways for the good. And yes I have changed as well. In many ways for the good. I am calmer, way way happier, enjoying life so much more. But I do miss my friends who had weathered many storms with me. I miss my friends whom I could call at a moment's notice and go play with. I miss sitting on my couch (fondly referred to as Big Purple) drinking wine and giggling nonstop. I ran with a group of incredible peeps. I miss the depth of the conversations we had about politics, science and The Hills. And I do miss the intellectual stimulation and challenge of my career, even though I was approaching burn-out. I miss feeling on top of my game. I miss being special because I could help a child. I wrote amazing reports. Now I pat myself on the back for composing witty Haiku's on the napkin that goes into his lunch.
I think I need to think about trying harder to find a job. Let's hope I do not fall prey to the military-spouse curse. But I am going to be positive. At least try.
However what I am really about to go on about is getting my social life going here in the Deep South. Being single forever I once had a good friend advise me that "Nothing was going to happen in your living room", so I better be proactive and get out there. Well, I had been proactive. I had done every imaginable dating enterprise around; Jdate, Match, eHarmony, OKcupid. I had done forced activities; speed dating, art walks, scavenger hunts, mixers, volunteering, kayaking, protesting for singles, you name it. However, while I would meet some nice people I never really met anyone special. In part I blame this on the over-abundance of metro-sexuals and douche-bags in the San Francisco Bay Area. At least that is what I told myself during my bitter moments.
I also began to experience attrition in my friendships. As my friends got married, had kids, they would leave the City and head to the 'burbs. While we would remain friends, understandably the friendships would change. I found myself thinking that I had something in common with senior citizens. They too must experience attrition/dying off of their friends. They too, like me, were being forced to make friends with younger folk. So in my mid-thirties I was becoming friends with some mid-twentysomethings. I admit it, at first I was a bit embarrassed. However, when people would exclaim they couldn't believe I was the age that I was, (I do look young due to being a bit chubby which pushes out your wrinkles), I began to feel like a bit of a rock star. Albeit an aging one. But I did seem to fit in just fine. There were some moments when younger person's drama was a bit tiring, but I was equally invigorated by their fresh outlook on life (cliché but true) and ability to party all night long. I had a shitload of fun and made some truly wonderful friends. Ultimately my proactive efforts to get out of my living room, led me to meet my husband. WIN!!!
So here I am today forcing myself to get out of my living room and make some friends. Here in the sweaty south in a military community has proved to be quite different than the big City. I am very fortunate that one of the Hubs' besties' wife is freaking awesome!!! We have the beginnings of a truly solid friendship. That makes me happy. But I know myself and know I need more than one friend, I am someone that runs about, and I need multiple partners in crime.
So I went to my trusted friend, craigslist, and found a Meet-up group for Army Wives. So far I have been to two events and have indeed enjoyed myself. But wow, it is different. Before ya'll jump down my shit and call me out for being a snob, this is not about snobbery. At least I don't think it is. I went to a salad luncheon, like bring your favorite salad, cool! For over three hours the discussion covered the following topics; helping our husbands find their equipment, recipes, what we pack in our husband's lunches and coupons. While I was thinking snarky thoughts, I realized that the above pretty much summed up my daily life. Everyone was perfectly nice and I will continue to hang out with these very nice ladies.
But dang has my peer group changed! Yes in many ways for the good. And yes I have changed as well. In many ways for the good. I am calmer, way way happier, enjoying life so much more. But I do miss my friends who had weathered many storms with me. I miss my friends whom I could call at a moment's notice and go play with. I miss sitting on my couch (fondly referred to as Big Purple) drinking wine and giggling nonstop. I ran with a group of incredible peeps. I miss the depth of the conversations we had about politics, science and The Hills. And I do miss the intellectual stimulation and challenge of my career, even though I was approaching burn-out. I miss feeling on top of my game. I miss being special because I could help a child. I wrote amazing reports. Now I pat myself on the back for composing witty Haiku's on the napkin that goes into his lunch.
I think I need to think about trying harder to find a job. Let's hope I do not fall prey to the military-spouse curse. But I am going to be positive. At least try.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Showerhead Moments
I do realize that we are still in the honeymoon period so waxing poetically about how fantabulous living together has been, may well simply be a post-wedding fallacy. However, I choose to be the optimist and since I have been around the block a few times, I do think our easy transition to living as a married couple could be a harbinger of happiness to come. But, alas there have been some fun moments that when they happen now we just say “showerhead” and move forward.
Basically the hubs is about a foot taller than me. We have this crappy fiberglass tub/shower combo. Every time one of us would take a shower we would adjust the shower head, and in a sign of great sensitivity neither one of us would move it back. One morning as I was reaching to move it back, I am considered short, I lost my balance, ripped the shower head off the pipe, got tangled in the shower curtain and came crashing down in a tangled heap in the tub. It made a god awful noise and of course I screamed like I had just been bludgeoned (I can be a little dramatic). Mr. Fish comes running panic stricken and finds me silent in a pretzel position and then I started laughing. I mean hyena laughs. So much so I wet the tub, which was convenient I have to say. Hubs was still concerned that I was not okay, but I was demanding that he get a camera. He refused, sigh. So I took a shower from the pipe, the shower head was completely busted and changed my clothes.
Then in true milfamily fashion, we completed an after-action report. We are realizing that living together involves some basic pragmatic kinks that we need to work through. Nothing major. Seriously after a series of horrific roommates in SF; roomie got pregnant and wanted us all to live with her kid and husband in the apartment, another got hooked on meth and tried to kill himself, several stole from me, one was embroiled in a jealous rage when Fish was on R&R, and finally one blew up the toilet (true). I was honestly expecting worse. But so far things have been limited to a shower head scale.
I’m pretty amazed. In general my adjustment on all fronts; living in the south and away from all I have ever known, not working, living with 8 snakes (yep) has been way easy. The only thing that has proved to be a ginormous challenge has been taming my Jewfro. I never knew such frizz could exist!
Bestxo,
Hil Fish
Basically the hubs is about a foot taller than me. We have this crappy fiberglass tub/shower combo. Every time one of us would take a shower we would adjust the shower head, and in a sign of great sensitivity neither one of us would move it back. One morning as I was reaching to move it back, I am considered short, I lost my balance, ripped the shower head off the pipe, got tangled in the shower curtain and came crashing down in a tangled heap in the tub. It made a god awful noise and of course I screamed like I had just been bludgeoned (I can be a little dramatic). Mr. Fish comes running panic stricken and finds me silent in a pretzel position and then I started laughing. I mean hyena laughs. So much so I wet the tub, which was convenient I have to say. Hubs was still concerned that I was not okay, but I was demanding that he get a camera. He refused, sigh. So I took a shower from the pipe, the shower head was completely busted and changed my clothes.
Then in true milfamily fashion, we completed an after-action report. We are realizing that living together involves some basic pragmatic kinks that we need to work through. Nothing major. Seriously after a series of horrific roommates in SF; roomie got pregnant and wanted us all to live with her kid and husband in the apartment, another got hooked on meth and tried to kill himself, several stole from me, one was embroiled in a jealous rage when Fish was on R&R, and finally one blew up the toilet (true). I was honestly expecting worse. But so far things have been limited to a shower head scale.
I’m pretty amazed. In general my adjustment on all fronts; living in the south and away from all I have ever known, not working, living with 8 snakes (yep) has been way easy. The only thing that has proved to be a ginormous challenge has been taming my Jewfro. I never knew such frizz could exist!
Bestxo,
Hil Fish
Saturday, July 10, 2010
How did I know this?
At the ripe 'ol age of 8 I wrote in this book:
I had thought I first realized that I wanted to be a psychologist in High School. However, I guess it was earlier than that. Good to also see that my inability to spell has endured. I do not have a friend named Christine, everything else spot on.
I had thought I first realized that I wanted to be a psychologist in High School. However, I guess it was earlier than that. Good to also see that my inability to spell has endured. I do not have a friend named Christine, everything else spot on.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Howdy y'all
Nice to meet ya’ll. Thanks for stopping by. Here’s a bit about the person behind the drivel. We’ll call me Hil Fish. I aim to be honest on this blog, so I will tell you I am 38 years old. I don’t look it, act it in some ways but in many ways NOT! The hubs is 9 years younger than me, GO ME! I liked to joke that I had kissed so many toads, I had drained the pond, and was sipping pond scum through a straw. But then it just happened, I actually fished my wish. The whole story is a post for another time.
So I lived in San Francisco having never left the Bay Area, had a fog pasty tan, and a thriving career helping children. I had a private practice, I had friends and a stoopid good time with them, I had a pretty great life. But, I was lonely. Dating d-bags, hooking up, and spooning with my teddy bear (true), was resulting in some deep sighs. But then on 8/13/08 it all changed.
Today I find myself minus a career (for now), my family and friends, and hometown. Today I find myself happier than I could have ever imagined. I fight a daily battle with my swoosie. I have several moments every day, I pinch myself often, and that gags me. The hubs and I are growing together, figuring it all out. We have good days and a few bad days. But in the end, we are winning.
My goals for this blog are few:
• Stop being a lurker and to actively join the community whom I owe so much
• Have a place to record my thoughts, and be authentic
• Give me a creative outlet and something to do
•Provide my rotting SAHW brain some stimulation beyond figuring out how to get the most dishes possible into the dishwasher
Comments are welcome, just keep it nice, dirty is fine!
So bloggies, we are off. And I still sleep with my teddy bear, working on it. : )
So I lived in San Francisco having never left the Bay Area, had a fog pasty tan, and a thriving career helping children. I had a private practice, I had friends and a stoopid good time with them, I had a pretty great life. But, I was lonely. Dating d-bags, hooking up, and spooning with my teddy bear (true), was resulting in some deep sighs. But then on 8/13/08 it all changed.
Today I find myself minus a career (for now), my family and friends, and hometown. Today I find myself happier than I could have ever imagined. I fight a daily battle with my swoosie. I have several moments every day, I pinch myself often, and that gags me. The hubs and I are growing together, figuring it all out. We have good days and a few bad days. But in the end, we are winning.
My goals for this blog are few:
• Stop being a lurker and to actively join the community whom I owe so much
• Have a place to record my thoughts, and be authentic
• Give me a creative outlet and something to do
•Provide my rotting SAHW brain some stimulation beyond figuring out how to get the most dishes possible into the dishwasher
Comments are welcome, just keep it nice, dirty is fine!
So bloggies, we are off. And I still sleep with my teddy bear, working on it. : )
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