WLC DAY 14- LOVE DOES NOT EQUAL HAPPINESS

Today I was talking to my friend about my 30th birthday this June, and she was surprised to find out I would still be in Seattle and not back with Hubs in NC yet. My reasoning for this was that I don't want to turn 30 with only him and our cat. Sure, I've made a few friends out there, but compared to the party I'll have in Seattle a NC bash would have a depressing turn out. In the last ten years, I've moved so much often I'm in a new place on my birthday, and I rarely get to celebrate with people who I've known more than a month. This year, I'm ready for something less... intimate.

At the core, my decision to stay in Seattle, while based on a party, really has nothing to do with a birthday and everything to do with happiness.

Hubs and I have been in a relationship for almost four years, and during that time I have learned this: Loving someone can change your life, it can fill you up and make you a better person- but you cannot be happy on love alone.

It's not all on Hubs to provide me with ultimate happiness either, it would be impossible and it's simply not his job to. He is an addition to my happiness, making my life better exponentially simply by being who he is and supporting me. Together we can travel, be active, take classes. He can laugh as I spend too much money at sephora, go to breweries with me, and all of the things. He can be a perfect, loving husband that makes me feel safe and wonderful, but he himself cannot fulfill me.

This is where things like my career come in. Staying busy, feeling accomplished, and the stuff money provides like trips, adventures, fitness, being on a sports team and all of that. These are things he can support me with, but not give me, and unfortunately these are not things that are possible in certain places we have lived...and thus why I moved to Seattle during his deployment, and stayed when he got back early.

The response I get to that is you make your own happiness. My place is with my husband because otherwise what's the point of being married. I could have any sort of shit job to make money, volunteer to feel accomplished, get a hobby to feel creative, and the ever popular have kids.

There's nothing much else I can say to that, except that it's hard to understand if you're not a career person. I don't mean you have a career instead of a job, or that you enjoy your work. I mean you LOVE your career and it defines who you are. My greatest struggle since leaving Chicago has not been loving hubs or even his deployment. It was figuring out what my new identity would be if I was not to be a creative, a MadMen if you will, any longer.

Over a year ago I started studying to be a personal trainer. It's something I enjoy, something I'm good at, but I haven't finished yet because of one thing: At my heart, I'm still a MadMen, and I continually search for ways to stay on that path. Being a personal trainer would be fun, but it lacks luster and edge. Most of all it lacks all the struggle, drama and heartache you go through to create, and the straight up euphoria when it comes to life.

But love conquers all, right? And a job is just a job. As a co-worker once said, we're selling shoes, not saving lives.

Of course, he's right. It's just advertising, and he punches in at 9 and out at 5 every day. He doesn't drive home thinking about headlines or spend his showers wondering up ideas. For him, it's an on-off switch. There's a lot of people like him who have zero passion for what they do, and if you aren't passionate about something, well it's pretty easy to forget about it and move on. If you are, it's going to be like cutting off your arm very slowly.

While I love Hubs more than anything, I guess in some ways I don't love him more than I love me. There's certain things he can only trump so far. And, he's not any different. Flying helicopters for the military is his dream, and when we were dating he made it clear that he would go after that with or without me. I don't believe that makes us selfish people, and I don't think that means he's not the one for me or we're a terrible married couple. It means the opposite. Quite frankly, we are a power couple.

Over four years we have thrived, loving each other more each day. Nothing can tear us apart. Thousands of miles, months in separate states, even war has not put a dent in our relationship. We know what we want and are never idle, constantly working towards new goals. We know each other better than any two people should. Each moment together is precious, and each phone call is the highlight of the day (even though I call him three, if not more times).  I am the absolute neediest of wives, and he is the most patient of husbands. I love our cat, he pretends to hate our cat but secretly cuddles with it. I make sausage on a fork, he mades seafood chowder from scratch. My complete and total insanity somehow compliments his complete and total insanity.

So, I'm going to stay in Seattle for a few more months. I'm going to work my butt off, hike, climb, taste beer, hang out, watch epic mountain sunsets, and have a blast. I'm going to miss Hubs every moment, but I'm a tough kid and we'll be together again soon. For now, there are places to go, things to do, bad ass shit to conquer-- and I challenge all naysayers to give our lives a try and see how they come out on the other end. It's not the most ideal life, but it works, and not for any other reason but because when you love someone, you make it work.  You compliment each other.  Above all, you make that extra effort to exponentially increase their happiness.

That's what makes a marriage, not the lack of miles between you or the days you spend apart.

-------------------------

WHOLE LIFE CHALLENGE THREE THINGS I'm GRATEFUL FOR
1) For the phone. For talking to Hubs on my way to work, during lunch, and before bed.
2) For my flannel comforter from my mother in law. It is the best and worst thing to ever happen to me in the morning. I am so damn lucky.
3) For bread. God I want bread so bad. I also hate God for making bread bad for you. It should have the nutritional value of a carrot.

RUNNING AWAY FROM RUNNING

Yesterday I sat in the hotel room watching a 1000lb+ person in bed  on TV and feeling just as large and immobile. Even though I worked out I felt lazy and gross because I didn't run.

Running used to be my happy place, and my solace. I looked forward to it every day. During marathon training when I did those 16-22 milers it was tough but I was always happy once I got going.

For some reason I just can't get up the motivation anymore. 3 miles feels like freaking forever. When I used to do 10 a few times a week no problem, it makes me feel like a pansy.

The thing I like about running is the ability to constantly improve and see the progress. With Personal Records, there are things to conquer. And conquering is something I like to do. I'm a competitive person and in my brain I compete in almost everything. When I run on a well traversed path I call it "Lions and Gazelles" and consider everyone in front of me prey, counting the people I pass and silently laughing evily inside as I go by.

Weird? Yes. Nice? Probably not. Whatever. It's motivating! What happens when I get passed on the path you say? Well that doesn't happen often. Because that's what it's like to be AWESOME. BWHAHAHAHAHA.

This is me. At work. In a snuggy. Now there is no reason to doubt my awesomeness. 

Anyway, Lions And Gazelles doesn't do it for me anymore. Especially since, do to lack of practice, I've become slower and being someone else's Gazelle doesn't appeal to me.

I need a new activity. The problem is that when you're almost 29 years old, it's hard to pick up a new sport. It's not like I can join a soccer or LaCross team. Imagine all the swearing directed at me. I can barely walk without falling on my face and now there's a ball I'm supposed to hit with my feet?! Even if I wanted to play soccer, that would take decades of practice that frankly I don't have.  It'd end up like 2nd grade when my parents enrolled me in AYSO soccer and I sat as Goalie or defense picking flowers/getting hit in the face with the ball.

Because at 7 I didn't know swear words yet. 

Unlike running, sports like soccer and lacrosse take a team to help you get better, and it's harder to see improvement. There's not really "milestones."

Right now I do Crossfit, which has PRs and you can see a lot of improvment- but while I'm interested in getting strong I'm not interested in getting bulky. Also, it's not a competitive sport, it's a tool that helps me run and swim faster, and not suck at the bike so much. I find it enjoyable, but it's not the end all be all and the Crossfit Games are never something I'll do.

Recently, drinking by our fire pit at 3am with a friend of hubbys, it was suggested that I try rock climbing. The great thing about the military so far is the free gym, and now the free climbing wall. I already have a harness from my first and last mountain climbing expedition, strong legs are key, and it's something I can work to get better at on my own or with a friend.

I'm going to head to the climbing wall this friday and check it out. Maybe this will be the answer to my problem- not to mention with all the climbing around El Paso it'll give me something fun to do, and a way to make friends outside the military (which is something I always look for).

The second thing I'm looking into is Muah Thai which is essentially kickboxing. I once dated a boxer and those work outs are TOUGH. The only problem I foresee is that I once did Karate and I didn't do so well. I tend to be very passive aggressive and it takes a lot, or alcohol, to get me going. Also fighting is not something I'm good at.

Sadly I'm not even kidding. Although I'm not afraid to bite. 

Senior year of high school this girl wanted me to leave a party because I was talking to her ex-boyfriend (even though my boyfriend was at the party too). She threatened me and said to leave but I'm a stubborn pain int he ass and I didn't. She made good on her threat and punched me. We were split apart immediately but if nobody had grabbed her I would have ran away. Also, I'm a pansy, and I cried (later, out of sight- I have a little bit of dignity).

Getting punched and kicked doesn't seem fun- but punching and kicking of course does. It's something to try and who knows, it may come in handy one day. After all, I'd rather get a punch in the face than be involved in a hair pulling cat fight.

If anybody else as any ideas, feel free to add!

STABILITY AND STRENGTH- DURING THIS COMMERCIAL BREAK

So far in my personal training studies one of the most valuable things I've learned has been stabilization.

It was something I didn't even think about- whether doing squats, snatches, running, or just naturally falling down a lot because I'm clumsy- stabilization has a big part in how much and how well you can do.

For instance I was doing dumbbell snatches in the gym and I was tired. The dumbbell got almost above my head and then I lost my balance and almost fell over.

It also works the same in running The better stabilization your core has (strength too), the less energy you will use while you run.

I can't always fit in a work out, or I'm just too lazy and unmotivated. However, when I can work out in front of the TV, I find that I don't feel as crappy. Here's some stuff I do in my hotel room and at home- usually during commercials-- and then you won't feel so shitty about that glass of pinot noir you're drinking during the show!

Do these all in HIGH REPS. I like to do 12-15.

I apologize for the bad photos. I originally wanted to take ones of me doing it but with my crazed schedule lately I haven't had time. 

CORE

Ball Bridge: Instead of doing a regular bridge, do it on a stability ball. While it's 

harder to do, by increasing the challenge it'll strengthen your posture over all (and also, if

 you do it in a circuit, help burn fat!)

Ball Cobra: This isn't all that difficult but it feels get and when you do it in high reps you'll feel it later. Plus I like to pretend I'm a cobra snake ready to pounce. HIISSSSS! EFF YOU FAT! I WILL POISON AND KILL YOU WITH MY AB VENOM!

Side Plank: Often we forget that our core is more than just the front abs.

 It's glutes and diaphragm and side abs too!

BALANCE

Single Leg Windmill: This shit is hard. It just is.

Reverse knee lunges: This is technically balance "strength" not stabilization but they are great. 

And it gets difficult after awhile. I always find myself thinking really hard about these.

Single Leg Hops: This is balance and power. They are relatively easy 

to do but after a little bit the difficulty adds up.

CHEST

Ball Push-ups: I am TERRIBLE at these. I tend to let myself drop down and just try to 

push myself up. I'm pretty bad but I'm going to be excited the day I get it right. Don't 

get discouraged if you can't do them, just scale down and try it from your knees. 

SHOULDER

Single Leg Overhead press: I just think these are fun because I feel like

 I'm getting some strength in even though the load is light.

LEGS

Ball Hamstring Curls: You WILL feel this in your butt!

Source: Photos from NASM Essentials of Personal Training Fitness, Fourth Edition revise

BURSTING THE "HAPPY HOMECOMING" BUBBLES

On Veterans Day websites like BuzzFeed, Oprah, and every news channel over flowed with videos of Soldier reuniting with their wives, dogs, and children. They were truly touching moments, and in past years I've shed a few tears. But not this year. Because this year I understand it.

Here's your reality check.

It lasts about five minutes.

Then you go home. Thats when the awkward kicks in.

Think about it. You've spent months building up this reunion in your head, and your first night back together. But the truth is, it's awkward. You haven't seen each other in months. Touched each other in months. Had a natural conversation in months. Have lived almost as if the other person hasn't existed in months, because even though your thoughts are with them and you love them with all your heart, it's necessary to be normal.

Not to mention hubby probably has jet lag, and if there are kids its another story. He's got to be daddy too.

And he's different. You don't know what he's been through. You can't possible begin to understand it.

It takes days, sometimes weeks to get used to each other again- everything from conversation to being sexual. Remember the first time you kiss somebody and it's just a little weird because you've never kissed them before? Who goes right, left?

 Just like that, back to square one.

If you've been in a long distance relationship, going months without seeing each other, you might understand this.

About a week ago, I read this article about how the homecoming is not the fairytale you see on TV, and it really resonated with me.

Though my experience hasn't been as hard as those with spouses overseas, I've gotten a taste.

While Dear Husband was in training, we spent three months apart. Not only did we not see each other, we weren't allowed to communicate very much. I wrote him one letter every day during that entire period. I received 4 in return. Forget skype, texting, emails, and phone calls. I was told he was going to get to call me on Sundays and Wednesdays, and for 5 weeks on those days I'd sob onto my poor cat when I realized, once again, no phone call would come. Eventually, I had to pull myself out of the funk. I had to move on, keep him a very warm memory, but act almost as if he didn't exist.

When we finally saw each other again, it was that magical TV reunion.

I flew to meet him. The entire four hour flight I sat rigid in my seat. On the tram ride I shook violently and felt like I was going to vomit- a sickening combo of nervous, excited, and fear. I expected him to meet me outside the terminal in his car, and I almost walked right by him in the baggage claim because I was so focused on keeping myself together.

When I noticed him standing there I dropped everything and ran, jumped up, and wrapped my legs around him. We had a mini make out sesh right there in front of everybody while I cried and shook in his arms. If he'd been in his uniform I bet people would have clapped.

But then life moves on. Things seemed normal. We went to dinner, I had a thousand questions. I couldn't put my finger on it, but he was different. We were different. It wasn't a bad thing, we just were.

Shortly after we spent almost two weeks in a car driving across the country, and at one point I realized, I didn't know what to say anymore. I didn't know what to talk about and I even felt a little weird. Even kissing felt weird. After several days cooped up in the car things returned to normal, but I'll never forget that unsettling feeling when we first got into the car and I didn't know what to say.

When I look at all the videos on buzzfeed, all I see are months of pain, a five minute fairy tale, weirdness to come, and feel incredibly misunderstood by the non-military community.

It was the first time I really understood what it means it be an army wife.

I guess that means I've had a breakthrough :)

Brooch Bouquets: The biggest, most worth it pain in the butt

Since I posted my gorge wedding photo thanks to Endless Expressions Photography By Beth I've gotten a lot of compliments and people who were interested in making it.

The brooch bouquet, in theory, was a fantastic idea. We were having a sort of last-minute wedding with only 11 people while we waiting for the right time to have a big bash. I was really sad I wouldn't get to have all my friends and family there, so I asked everybody to send me a brooch so I would remember them on my big day. And it looked easy (which it was) but also crazy time consuming.

Things you need:
Glue gun
A crap ton of brooches (I picked up a kit off etsy)
Styrofoam Ball
Spray Paint (Metallic of any color)
Wooden Dowel (Bouquet holder)
Ribbon
Tule
Extra pins

Things I also got:
I went to Michael's and went wild in the Bridal section with all things pearls.
A "3d" ribbon of vitage flowers
Ivory fabric for the flowers
Pearl topped pins
Glitzy buttons

1) You need a theme or it'll look like a mess. Pick a color scheme, or the beach, etc. I chose vintage flowers and pearls to match my dress, jewelry, and hair.

2) I spent several hours in front of the TV making "vintage flowers" of different size.
This is how I did it - after I glued it I attached them with pearl-topped pins to a piece of Styrofoam
Here's another way if you're boring and don't like fire. 

3) During the days that was going, I took a big ball of Styrofoam I got at Michael's, and used metallic silver spray paint. I went over it 3 times.

4) I took my wooden dowel I got at michael's, stuck it into the ball as hard as I could, then determined the proper length for holding it. Because I have a husband with a lot of tools, I asked him to saw off the excess. Then I put a ton of glue in the hole, and stuck in the wood (that's what she said).

5) After the wood dried for about 10 min, I pinned down the flowers along one side.

6) Whoever sent me the brooches on etsy took off the backs because she said it would make it easier, all I had to do was got a set of pins and glue it to the back of the brooch and then stick it into the ball. This proved time wasting and frustrating, so I just picked out a brooch, fitted it in the area, and glued the whole thing down. Sometimes I had to unglue it and move it around, but that was rare and it didn't muck anything up too much.

7) As I glued, I worked in the brooches from my family and friends. Most of the time I tried to put them over the "brooch base" of the brooches I got from etsy, but sometimes they were pretty big so I gave them a space of their own.


8) I wrapped light blue ribbon around the stick twice, gluing it as I went. Once that dried, I wrapped the  feeling, "3d" flower ribbon around it.

9) In the wedding section at Michael's I got long strings of pearls and attached them to the base, so that when I held the bouquet it looked like a pearly waterfall.

10) The tule I bought ended up coming in many round sheets, so I bunched them up and used the pearl pins to put them in place by the base and over the start of the "pearly waterfall." Then I glued the sparkly buttons going down the stick on top of the ribbon.

11) Lastly, I took pearl pins, and pinned down pearl embellishments all over. Then, I filled in any holes the brooches left with the pearl pins.

It took a lot of hours, and one awesome Man of Honor to help get it done. But Phew, we got there and despite it all I was so happy with the result, and I can't wait to use it in our big wedding!

Pretty Photos of the bouquet and the photo of myself and patient hubs done by Endless Expressions by Beth Photography. Call her up if you're ever in Pensacola!

WHY I DON'T HAVE TO APPLAUD AMERICA

During a week like this, with Veteran's Day and the Marine Corps birthday around the corner, Americans everywhere show their unbridled patriotism and support for their troops. Even I changed my Facebook profile picture to that of Dear Husband in his dress blues. Why? Because I love him, I support his decision to be a part of the U.S. Military, to defend  the people of our country, and I couldn't be prouder  because he works hard to make his dream of becoming a pilot come true, and he is truly a good man.

But, just because he's in the military doesn't mean I have to toot the Go America! horn everywhere I go, every second of the day. I don't believe that was stated in my "contract" aka Marriage License.

I might be proud of Dear Husband, but right now I am not proud of this country- and I've been getting in trouble lately for vocalizing that. Mostly for joking that I'd like to move to Sweden because they have the system down (Ok, half joking. Sweden is cold!). What I am told is that I'm an Army Wife, how could I not be proud of my husband, or his friends and co workers? How could I say such terrible things about a country they defend? Or the worst I've been told: what if they are reading your blog, they control where you and your husband go (which is just utter BS).

Well these days, it's pretty easy to be upset with America, isn't it? We have a government that is so focused on winning arguments for their own party just because it's their own party, and not for the good of the people. It seems like almost every day there's another public shooting in a school, a mall, at an airport, or a movie theater. Not to mention I used to live in Chicago, let's not get started about the crime rate there.

We live in a country where not everyone is equal. Where you have to fly to another state to get married to the one that you love. Where a woman can get raped, pregnant, and then chastised for not wanting to have the baby. Where the gap between the number of rich and poor grows larger by the day. Where it's growing harder and harder to pay for an education, pay off the loans, and get a job afterwards. Where people believe that if you don't have enough money to pay for health needs, you should be left dead in the street because otherwise it's "socialism."

Don't get me wrong, there is  a lot  I love  about this  country too. The fact that I can even write this blog and post it on the internet without getting arrested is something to be desired in a lot of countries in the world.

But that doesn't mean I have to be stoked about the state of things- most especially our government. That doesn't mean, because I'm an Army Wife, I have to put on a plastic face, sit back and quietly vote without ever using my voice.

I mean, hell, being an Army Wife means I should make my voice LOUDER. If my husband is putting his life on the line for a country and it's people, then I had better do what I can to make it worth fighting for. Everything counts.

With that, I leave you with the slogan from Dear Husband's old unit in the Marines.

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

Fart Noises: How to Find Friends Part 1

One of the things I've had the most anxiety about becoming an Army Wife is making friends. For years I've been surrounded by a lot of other like minded weirdos, so it's been rather easy for me. Between advertising and Hash House Harriers, we're a relatively young crowd  physically if not mentally--and our humor is of a special sort.

Just look at this group of nut jobs I enjoy hanging around with.

I needed a full proof plan to find people who embrace my wacky ways, and I don't want to waste time on anybody who's easily offended or grossed out. And I found my answer in my last few weeks working in Chicago.

One day when walking by my senior art director's desk I dropped a pen on the ground. As I bent over to pick it up he let out a big, disgusting THHHHHHHPPPPPPPP and everybody around us, including myself, busted into laughter.

And, apparently I'm not the only one who's fallen victim to Mr. S. He preys on anybody who has to bend over to pick things up, and picks out a fart noise that is absolutely the opposite of what he thought would come out of them.

That night, I couldn't help thinking about the magic of the fart noise. When it happens, you have no time to react. You either laugh or you are disgusted, and it's impossible to hide. It's a perfect way to instantly figure out someone's sense of humor. I just need to find the perfect venue to try it out. And no, Dear Husband, I promise not to do it at the Marine Corps Ball, as funny as it would be with everybody dressed to the nines.

It might seem rather crude and un-ladylike, behavior not becoming of an officer's wife, but I'm not looking for friends to sit around at a ball with, sip tea, or gossip with. I'm looking for people who are light hearted, funny, intelligent, adventurous and a good time. Fart noises might not figure all that out, but it'll definitely weed out all the tight-asses.

Hi I'm Jessica, Army Wife....?

I've put off starting this blog because it's supposed to be about my life as an Army Wife- how I perceived it would be, and how it actually is-- but to tell you the truth, I haven't felt like an army wife at all, and I'm having an identity crisis.

In the two weeks I've been married, I have mostly lived in a hotel room with a crap of a gym three hours away from my new husband and cat. I still work in advertising (freelancing). And I still am more rowdy than an Officer's wife should probably be (I really need to work on my Sailor's mouth).

This is not what I envisioned.

I can't say I'm totally sad because a lot of what I pictured had to do with me being shunned and gossiped about by other women, and having virtually no friends.

But, I also saw myself refurnishing furniture and DIY projects, cooking new Paleo dishes, creating cocktails with Joel, training for races, lifting weights, studying to be a personal trainer, and falling asleep by my husband every night--all of which I had been very much looking forward to and what I planned on basing this blog off of.

Instead, I'm half a state away living a totally separate life 4 days a week, and "vacationing" at home for 3. Not super army-wifeish to me, and besides the weekend not much different than living in Chicago. It seemed like there was no point in writing the blog.

Then I was reminded I had never planned on being the typical Army Wife, which was why I had wanted to start this blog in the first place-- I wanted to define myself, not by what my husband's job is, but what I do. It doesn't mean that I don't respect the military and their spouses, or I'm unappreciative and don't think this life isn't tough. I just fear my life revolving around only that.

I never want to be one of those people who writes "Works at U.S. ArmyWife" on Facebook because that feels insignificant. Like my husband and his job are all there is to me.  I want, when I introduce myself, to belong to me.

Hi, I'm Jessica. Crazy writer lady.

Hi, I'm Jessica. The loud girl with the hair.

Hi, I'm Jessica. Amazing trainer that made you lose 10 pounds and toned your butt.

Not...

Hi, I'm Jessica. Wife of the awesome blackhawk pilot.

Though I could deal with

Hi, I'm Jessica. Wife of the dude with the awesome bar with four homebrews on draft.

That I can do. Because I can say "Have you tried the Apfelwein I made? IT'S FREAKING DELISH and 11% alcohol. You wouldn't even know. Careful now, it'll knock you on your ass."

So, it's time to start the blog. No matter where I'm living, or what I'm doing, because this is what an Army Wife is to me- because right now, I big part of who I am is still a Copywriter, a Creative, and an advertiser-- and it's important I remember that.