This week I have realized that there are some routines that are a joy to fall back into.
A few days ago I finally made it back to the gym for the first time since before I left for the Army. I was pleased to see many familiar faces, and was happy to be greeted by Don at the desk, who later stopped to chat with me while I was kicking my own ass on the elliptical. I fell into my normal gym circuit without really having to think about it. Forty minutes on the elliptical, mat work consisting of ab and core work, and some body-weight resistance work on the upper body. And the next morning, I groaned as I sat up in bed... my sore abs a testament to my work. It was the first time I'd really been sore since I left Ft. Leonard Wood, and oddly, I'd missed that too.
And work... I've been awarded my new bid spot, and as Relief Officer I'm busy all night long. It makes the shifts fly by, and when I get home, I'm pleasantly tired. And as a Relief Officer, I'm too busy to get caught up in the drama that plagues my co-workers. It's nice to just focus on the job -- to do my eight and hit the gate, so to speak.
And last night, I got home, changed, and met Scott at the bar... another pleasant routine of bullshitting with the group of regulars that I had forgotten I was a part of, dancing and shaking my ass (which last night was cutely clad in a denim mini skirt, navy blue tank top and my Sox cap... and my plaid heels, of course), and enjoying the music of some of my favorite boys in the business, Emily's Toybox. It was a good night.
So... routines... before I left they were the bane of my existence. But the Army has made me appreciate them far more than I ever expected. It really is good to be home.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Sparked a Memory
Fire, as my roommate Scott so adeptly pointed out this evening, makes me thoughtful. So, as I sit here on the patio swing in front of the fire pit, I find it fitting that I indulge the desire to write.
I have successfully resumed work at the prison, and this last week has been... well, it's been interesting. On the one hand, it's so nice to start falling back into a routine. I missed these people. Well, most of them at any rate, lol. And the work I missed. Doing the Army detainee training reminded me of that. I like my job. I had forgotten that before I left. I got so caught up in the bullshit and drama that I had forgotten that I liked what I did for a living. But, my return to the prison reminded me that I hate who I work for. The manipulative, hypocritical administration is... well, it didn't take me long to remember why I was so anxious for a break, lol.
Life outside of work has been crazy as well. I've been trying to no avail to get a loan to buy a new truck. It seems that someone under the age of 30 that doesn't have a huge mortgage is considered a high-risk loan candidate, even if they have decent credit. Asinine. I'm not giving up on it yet. But it's still frustrating the hell out of me.
But, despite the madness that is my life of late, I find myself completely in awe of how lucky I am. And that, will be the focus of my writing tonight.
Scott joined me for fire time and wine earlier, and as we enjoyed being outside in what has turned out to be a perfect night for a fire, we talked about our lives and the people in them... specifically family. And as always in such conversations, my mind drifted to memories of home.
I was ten, and I was excited. Camping was a huge adventure, and I was getting to go -- without my parents, or my brother, who at that age was the total bane of my existence. My maternal grandparents were taking me to Wells, Maine to spend a few weeks in their old pop-up camper, in a campground just minutes from the beach.
When we arrived at the campground, we settled in, and made it to the beach in time to watch the sunset. As the sun went down, I played catch with my grandfather on the sand, while the surf rolled in, and my Nana watched from her beach chair, laughing. I can remember thinking then that they would be around forever, and that we would spend every summer for eternity playing catch on the beach. It would be several years before I would understand mortality.
A few days later, Gramp started the evening tradition of building the camp fire after dinner. I had watched this process every night, and thought I had it pretty well figured out.
"Gramp, can I help?" He stopped crinkling up newspaper and smiled.
"Well, I guess you can, dear. Come on over here." So, I crouched on the ground next to the fire pit, and meticulously made the log teepee that I'd watched him make every night. It wasn't perfect, but he didn't touch it. Instead, he handed me some newspaper, and together we crinkled it up into little balls and tucked it inside the teepee, and placed a few slivers of kindling on top of it. When we were done, we sat back and looked at our handiwork.
"Well, I think that's a mighty fine looking setup we've got here. What'dya think?" Downeast Maine was thick in his voice. Looking back it's one of the things I remember most distinctly about him. And one of the things I miss most.
I smiled. "It's great!" As his laugh rang out into the twilight, he handed me the matches.
"Well, do the honors, then." As I struck the match off the stone of the pit like I'd seen him do dozens of times, and would see him do countless more, I felt a tangle of emotions that at ten years old I had no hope of understanding. But as the fire lit, and the flames rose, I knew that moment was special, but I had no idea that it would be a memory that would stick with me well into adulthood. Nor did I care, as I was handed my skewer for marshmallow roasting. A young girl had to have her priorities, after all...
My summers that I spent camping at the beach with my grandparents are some of my favorite memories from my youth. As I got older, though, and life took over, I grew apart from my grandparents, and two years ago, my grandfather passed away. With his death, I found myself remembering more of the little things about him, and regretting the loss of the closeness we had shared in my childhood. Hindsight truly is 20/20.
Tonight, as I meticulously set up my teepee of firewood, I smiled, and thought of Gramp. I can't recall a time when I haven't made my fires the way I learned from him. Some lessons stick with you, even without realizing it, and those lessons keep the people that imparted them with you long after they're gone. So, tonight as I sit here, I think of Gramp and the other colorful characters that have imparted lessons in my life, I realize how truly blessed I am to have so many wonderful people that have shaped the person I am -- and how blessed I am that they stick with me, even when I'm unintentionally neglectful because life gets in the way.
I have successfully resumed work at the prison, and this last week has been... well, it's been interesting. On the one hand, it's so nice to start falling back into a routine. I missed these people. Well, most of them at any rate, lol. And the work I missed. Doing the Army detainee training reminded me of that. I like my job. I had forgotten that before I left. I got so caught up in the bullshit and drama that I had forgotten that I liked what I did for a living. But, my return to the prison reminded me that I hate who I work for. The manipulative, hypocritical administration is... well, it didn't take me long to remember why I was so anxious for a break, lol.
Life outside of work has been crazy as well. I've been trying to no avail to get a loan to buy a new truck. It seems that someone under the age of 30 that doesn't have a huge mortgage is considered a high-risk loan candidate, even if they have decent credit. Asinine. I'm not giving up on it yet. But it's still frustrating the hell out of me.
But, despite the madness that is my life of late, I find myself completely in awe of how lucky I am. And that, will be the focus of my writing tonight.
Scott joined me for fire time and wine earlier, and as we enjoyed being outside in what has turned out to be a perfect night for a fire, we talked about our lives and the people in them... specifically family. And as always in such conversations, my mind drifted to memories of home.
I was ten, and I was excited. Camping was a huge adventure, and I was getting to go -- without my parents, or my brother, who at that age was the total bane of my existence. My maternal grandparents were taking me to Wells, Maine to spend a few weeks in their old pop-up camper, in a campground just minutes from the beach.
When we arrived at the campground, we settled in, and made it to the beach in time to watch the sunset. As the sun went down, I played catch with my grandfather on the sand, while the surf rolled in, and my Nana watched from her beach chair, laughing. I can remember thinking then that they would be around forever, and that we would spend every summer for eternity playing catch on the beach. It would be several years before I would understand mortality.
A few days later, Gramp started the evening tradition of building the camp fire after dinner. I had watched this process every night, and thought I had it pretty well figured out.
"Gramp, can I help?" He stopped crinkling up newspaper and smiled.
"Well, I guess you can, dear. Come on over here." So, I crouched on the ground next to the fire pit, and meticulously made the log teepee that I'd watched him make every night. It wasn't perfect, but he didn't touch it. Instead, he handed me some newspaper, and together we crinkled it up into little balls and tucked it inside the teepee, and placed a few slivers of kindling on top of it. When we were done, we sat back and looked at our handiwork.
"Well, I think that's a mighty fine looking setup we've got here. What'dya think?" Downeast Maine was thick in his voice. Looking back it's one of the things I remember most distinctly about him. And one of the things I miss most.
I smiled. "It's great!" As his laugh rang out into the twilight, he handed me the matches.
"Well, do the honors, then." As I struck the match off the stone of the pit like I'd seen him do dozens of times, and would see him do countless more, I felt a tangle of emotions that at ten years old I had no hope of understanding. But as the fire lit, and the flames rose, I knew that moment was special, but I had no idea that it would be a memory that would stick with me well into adulthood. Nor did I care, as I was handed my skewer for marshmallow roasting. A young girl had to have her priorities, after all...
My summers that I spent camping at the beach with my grandparents are some of my favorite memories from my youth. As I got older, though, and life took over, I grew apart from my grandparents, and two years ago, my grandfather passed away. With his death, I found myself remembering more of the little things about him, and regretting the loss of the closeness we had shared in my childhood. Hindsight truly is 20/20.
Tonight, as I meticulously set up my teepee of firewood, I smiled, and thought of Gramp. I can't recall a time when I haven't made my fires the way I learned from him. Some lessons stick with you, even without realizing it, and those lessons keep the people that imparted them with you long after they're gone. So, tonight as I sit here, I think of Gramp and the other colorful characters that have imparted lessons in my life, I realize how truly blessed I am to have so many wonderful people that have shaped the person I am -- and how blessed I am that they stick with me, even when I'm unintentionally neglectful because life gets in the way.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Training's a Whirlwind... Literally
::Whew:: This AT is flying by.
I couldn't believe it was already Monday today. We've got practicals all week... then we're done. Then its home to weather that makes sense to me... though im kinda getting into the swing of this desert thing.
But God, its windy here... and wind + sand = ouch. Sandstorms are definitely a new experience, and we're supposed to have them for the next like 36 hours. It certainly makes things interesting. Your visibility is cut down to just a few feet in front of you, and the sand particles pelt your skin and leave it raw. Not so much fun.
I happily survived OC... and was told by all the training NCOs that I was the most motivated person they'd ever seen go through the OC course. I guess I smiled when they sprayed me, and went through the task course without incident. I was also told that I was still smiling while I was getting deconned... and doing my happy dance all over the place. Why? Because I love this shit :)
So... AT is fun. Im loving it. Tomorrow is STX running the detention facility... looking forward to it :)
I couldn't believe it was already Monday today. We've got practicals all week... then we're done. Then its home to weather that makes sense to me... though im kinda getting into the swing of this desert thing.
But God, its windy here... and wind + sand = ouch. Sandstorms are definitely a new experience, and we're supposed to have them for the next like 36 hours. It certainly makes things interesting. Your visibility is cut down to just a few feet in front of you, and the sand particles pelt your skin and leave it raw. Not so much fun.
I happily survived OC... and was told by all the training NCOs that I was the most motivated person they'd ever seen go through the OC course. I guess I smiled when they sprayed me, and went through the task course without incident. I was also told that I was still smiling while I was getting deconned... and doing my happy dance all over the place. Why? Because I love this shit :)
So... AT is fun. Im loving it. Tomorrow is STX running the detention facility... looking forward to it :)
Saturday, May 7, 2011
"But it's a dry heat!!"
And while that statement is true, the sentiment is total bullshit, lol.
Here in the New Mexico desert, it hit 101 degree... that's hot no matter how you cut it. And when you're wearig full body armor, its borderline miserable. BUT... when you add shooting fun toys at the less-than-lethal firing range, its all worthwhile. Have I mentioned how much I love things that go "boom"?
Tomorrow we get sprayed with OC. Oleoresin Capsicum. Pepper Spray. That, with your pores open in 101 degree heat is totally going to suck. How twisted is it that I can't wait?? EMBRACE THE SUCK!
Hey, my sinuses and lungs might finally clear up from the sickness I've had for over two weeks :)
BRING IT :p
Here in the New Mexico desert, it hit 101 degree... that's hot no matter how you cut it. And when you're wearig full body armor, its borderline miserable. BUT... when you add shooting fun toys at the less-than-lethal firing range, its all worthwhile. Have I mentioned how much I love things that go "boom"?
Tomorrow we get sprayed with OC. Oleoresin Capsicum. Pepper Spray. That, with your pores open in 101 degree heat is totally going to suck. How twisted is it that I can't wait?? EMBRACE THE SUCK!
Hey, my sinuses and lungs might finally clear up from the sickness I've had for over two weeks :)
BRING IT :p
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Getting Back to It
WOW. To think I've been out of training for almost a month. And no blog post?!?! Time to set that to rights :)
My time home since graduation has been... colorful. Tumultuous. Inspiring. Heartbreaking. I've crammed a lot into the last month, really. Let's start at the beginning...
My graduation was marked with a much needed weekend to Myrtle Beach. Scott and Dustin and I tore it up down there, and it was the perfect transition to civilian life for me. I ran the beach every morning, and God did it feel good.to.feel the sand under my bare feet :) There was much drinking at night... good God did we drink, lol. And there was catching up with my boys that I'd missed so much while I was away.
The night before we were to drive home, as I was truly relaxing for the first time in 20 weeks and vegging out in front of the TV, my phone lit up. I had a new text message. I smiled when I saw it was from Josh. I hadn't had much opportunity to talk to him that weekend, and I was so excited to go home and see him the next day. I stepped into the next room to read the message, and had to read it several times before it sank in.
He dumped me. By text message. The night before I was coming home to him.
My heart broke. And as I paced the beach that night in the dark, tears running down my face, it was my battles I called first... those wonderful ladies that I had endured the last several months of hardship with... and they saw me through the hardship that night too. I'm a lucky woman.
The next few weeks were... rough. Josh and I got together for drinks and to talk a couple times. He apologized. I couldn't forgive. The trust was gone for me. I still don't understand how I can love someone I don't trust.
To get my mind off of Josh I did a number of things over the next couple weeks. I went out and danced my tail off. I ran. I went truck shopping. I spent a lot of time getting my civilian life back in order. And then... then I left for the Army again.
And that's where Im at now. I'm going through Guardian Justice training at a sub-camp of Camp McGregor, inthe middle of the New Mexico desert.
AND I'M HAVING A BLAST.
Life is good. My new battles are the bomb. Yeah... Im still a lucky woman :)
My time home since graduation has been... colorful. Tumultuous. Inspiring. Heartbreaking. I've crammed a lot into the last month, really. Let's start at the beginning...
My graduation was marked with a much needed weekend to Myrtle Beach. Scott and Dustin and I tore it up down there, and it was the perfect transition to civilian life for me. I ran the beach every morning, and God did it feel good.to.feel the sand under my bare feet :) There was much drinking at night... good God did we drink, lol. And there was catching up with my boys that I'd missed so much while I was away.
The night before we were to drive home, as I was truly relaxing for the first time in 20 weeks and vegging out in front of the TV, my phone lit up. I had a new text message. I smiled when I saw it was from Josh. I hadn't had much opportunity to talk to him that weekend, and I was so excited to go home and see him the next day. I stepped into the next room to read the message, and had to read it several times before it sank in.
He dumped me. By text message. The night before I was coming home to him.
My heart broke. And as I paced the beach that night in the dark, tears running down my face, it was my battles I called first... those wonderful ladies that I had endured the last several months of hardship with... and they saw me through the hardship that night too. I'm a lucky woman.
The next few weeks were... rough. Josh and I got together for drinks and to talk a couple times. He apologized. I couldn't forgive. The trust was gone for me. I still don't understand how I can love someone I don't trust.
To get my mind off of Josh I did a number of things over the next couple weeks. I went out and danced my tail off. I ran. I went truck shopping. I spent a lot of time getting my civilian life back in order. And then... then I left for the Army again.
And that's where Im at now. I'm going through Guardian Justice training at a sub-camp of Camp McGregor, inthe middle of the New Mexico desert.
AND I'M HAVING A BLAST.
Life is good. My new battles are the bomb. Yeah... Im still a lucky woman :)
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