THE CHIP ON MY SHOULDER

When I started this blog I promised myself that I would  not just post things that painted me in a positive light, and that if I'm an ass, well, I should write about that too. This is real life here after all.

This weekend I was kind of an ass.

There's not a lot to do around Fort Rucker. I very badly wanted to go out and meet people, which is hard to do because it's not like there are a lot of opportunities beyond your husband/boyfriend taking you to parties or other social situations. I suppose there might be, but I don't spend a lot of time there, I don't have kids, and I have no idea how to go out and find people to even start a conversation with.

On Saturday we found out there was a party, so we had a few drinks with another couple and went over. I was ecstatic because hopefully I'd make some friends. I wanted to have a group over for a cocktail party in a few weeks, and I wanted to branch out and make it more than the usuals.

For whatever reason, within minutes of arrival, I immediately went from happy-go-lucky to being a sour brat.

Usually I find drinking games really fun. Usually crude humor is entertaining (I mean, I'm a Hash House Harrier. Our Names themselves are not for the easily offended. Not to mention I'm in advertising. Normal people would be caught off guard just in our meetings). And usually I can write biggots off as idiots and laugh.

For whatever reason, I couldn't though. I became increasingly introverted as the night went on. I suppose I had expected something different, where I could have conversations with people, find common ground, and maybe exchange phone numbers of a few of the girls.  Instead I sat there annoyed and judging everybody.

Normally, I rate myself below others, and although I've worked hard at learning to be confident I'm naturally insecure. That night though, I was better than everybody. I looked down my nose at the women because they became useless army wives in my brain and wrote off the guys as fools.

When we left, Dear Husband asked me what the girl who threw the party's name was, and I couldn't remember. I hadn't even tried. She had become just another "Army wife" to me.

I put her, and everybody in a box that I've been struggling to avoid being put in myself,  and I'm pretty ashamed of that.

Instead of going to a second party, we left, because I wasn't exactly being the best company to Dear Husband. This was the second opportunity I had blown, the prior being in a dingy dive bar where a few couples had come and I sat quietly at the bar, feeling homesick for prior good times and pitying myself.

In the morning, Dear Husband and I both talked it over, and while he agreed that I sucked, he also agreed that I clearly had a chip on my shoulder and my "friends" and "Army wife" issues are really just my fear of losing my identity, and trying to adjust to being this new person with a new life was much harder on me than I had anticipated.

That's not something I know how to fix, other than the therapy of a blog and just trying to be more thoughtful on a daily basis.

However, this weekend is the Marine Corps Ball, and I intend on using it as practice to pull my head out of my ass and be more open minded. As well as being the Bell of the Ball in my gorge new dress. :D