WLC DAY 10- THE NEW NORMAL

Recently I've been thinking a lot abut the N word.

Normal. 

It's a dull world, but weirdly one most of us spend a lot of time aspiring to be. There's two parts of it: one is sticking out but only in the good ways, and the other I can only describe as a feeling of home, of comfort, of our standard. 

Right now I'm having a whole lot of trouble figuring out what exactly that is to me, but I'm getting the feeling that my current life is it. An ever changing bedroom, belongings that fit in my car, an overly-outgoing attitude partly based on survival, and a relationship on the phone- all cut up in spurts of physically being someone and trying to figure out what it means to be married.  My normal seems to be a roller coaster, never taking the same loop twice and never stopping with enough time to get off and put my head on straight. Most days, I think that's a good thing. 

A few months ago I had a pretty interesting conversation with some ladies I work with. Here's some background on them:

C's husband lives and teaches at a prestigious college in New Mexico. She works with me for a great company in Seattle. For three months each summer he moves to Seattle. She seems him on all the school breaks and, like me, work allows her to go and work from New Mexico on occasion to spend time with him. They've been doing this for three years. 

L's husband is a firefighter. He has one of those one for days, off for days schedules. When he's on, he'll be gone for 1-3 days at a time. I don't recall how long they've been married, but I get the feeling this has been awhile. She likes the days when he's gone. It's Me time. She doesn't have to keep the house super clean, can watch trashy TV and do whatever she feels like. When he's home, it's together time. 

When I told these stories to my friends, they all had the same reaction- especially to the husband in New Mexico. First: Wow, that must be hard. Second: I could never do that. Third:: Well that's not really a marriage, how could they feel that way, and most especially pertaining to New Mexico relationship- how could you not figure that out to be together? How could you let your jobs rule your relationships? 

I didn't share any of those reactions, most especially the last one. In fact, I understood these women and connected with them in a way that I don't with most people, even other army wives and especially with the last sentiment. After all, Hubs is back from overseas and living in North Carolina, and here I am 'selfishly' working away on the west coast. When I mentioned that to my friends, every single of one of them felt that I was different. Military is different. It forces choices on you. 

I don't really believe that- I very much made my choice to be and to stay here for the same reasons C hasn't moved to New Mexico and L enjoys her time watching trashy TV and truly enjoys her alone time. I love working. I love that my career is a culture, not a job and I don't want to give that up.  I love exploring. And if I'm honest with myself, I love a little bit of chaos. 

Despite all of that, I've found myself yearning for Normal. I see my co-workers leaving for dinner with their spouses, to pick up their kids from day care, calling them to say they'll be home late from work. I wonder what the heck that is like. Today I was telling my mother-in-law how this is the first time in four years we will spend a cheesy Valentines Day together. That we've only actually spent one anniversary together if you could both marriage and "dating" years, out of a total of 5. We've had more birthdays and Christmases than other special days, but half of those have been spent driving across the country to the next destination, and if I'm lucky, with me, him and our cat. We don't fight over normal couple things, but stupid stuff like "You didn't call me before bed" or "you send me too many pictures of the cat and not any sexy ones." 

When I've mentioned as much to C & L, that some days I wonder about Normal, they tell me "You are normal. This, this is your normal." The scariest, and I suppose most comforting part is, they are absolutely right. And when I think about it, what scares me more IS normal. There are days we talk about him getting into a certain unit, and that would place us in one city for five years. Five years. And then after, we'd spend his last 5 in Washington and retire there. Those last two sentences sound like a death sentence. The idea of staying in one place, of giving up a revolving bedroom door, that is truly scary. 

So, this is my normal. This is my comfort zone. I'm always telling Hubs that I'm afraid of pretty much anything, and the difference between being a regular person and a compelling person is doing all of the things you are afraid of, so that's why I do things- so maybe, maybe "normal" is something I need to give a try some day. 

In the end, I guess I'm still finding my normal, but days like today, I'm not sure right here and now is the normal I want to be, because ultimately, I don't want normal to be a country between me and the one I love most. 

Le sigh. 

WLC DAY 3- HANGOVERS AND VALENTINES

Football ruins everything.

Even though the day started out well with touch-rugby, it quickly disintegrated into a blur of green, blue, chants and too much beer.  It was a fun time, but all in all, I didn't need that one last drink, or the last one after that, or the last one after that. And today I felt like crap. Maybe I'm just getting old, but I'm starting to get sick of that feeling. I'd rather wake up, feeling good and ready for the day. I woke up this morning at 530, went to the gym, and instead of getting a run in I ended up back in bed feeling like I was going to throw up and accidentally missing a 9am meeting.

This weekend I'm going to a snowshoe hash, and I'm pretty much dreading the 5 hour sunday drive back to seattle, because I'm a little afraid I'm going to get carried away in all the madness, chaos, and fun. I don't think I'm an alcoholic, but I'm starting to find victory in the nights I can go out and hold back. Not sure if that's a good feeling or not.

Today I also woke up to an email from the FRG- for those of you who don't know what that is, it's the Family Readiness Group. In the military, it can be generalized as a bunch of gossipy women with too many kids and not much else to do with their time. Anyway, they are having a "valentines day party" on Valentines day from 6-9. At first I scoffed at this, because why the heck would I want to spend Valentines day with a bunch of other military people, and my husband. But, I forgot. I was lucky my husband came home early, but half of his company is still deployed and they are spending Valentines day on their own.

Not that, if I was there, I would want to go spend V-Day with a bunch of other lonely women. It sounds like the saddest place on earth. However it did strike a cord with me. In the 4 years hubs and I have been together, we haven't had one V-Day together. We've always been in separate states, and this is really starting to get to me. Even though this is the first year we're going to actually be with one another, it makes me wonder about future valentines days. I know he's going to deploy again. I know coming back doesn't mean home for good, and I wonder if I can hack this for another 12 years.

Some days aren't so bad, but some days are- and the days that are bad, well, they are just happening more and more. Sometimes I wish he stayed deployed,  because the fact that he came home and we're living on completely opposite coasts makes it worse. Now it's not mandatory, it's a choice we made.

And, I suppose to bring it back round to feeling hungover today, days like this are the worst. Days like this are the ones where I'm supposed to wake up with a bowl of goldfish crackers and bottle of gatorade next to the bed, with a packet of alka seltzer for my tummy and two extra strength excederins and he's humming in the kitchen making breakfast. Half the time, I expect that still, and then when I crack my eye only to find a cat hovering over me giving me the death stare, a cold bedroom, and the bachelor-style condiments only in the fridge, well it's a pretty depressing feeling.

So, I suppose I'll start acting like a good grown up again, if only till North Carolina again. And by then, maybe it'll stick.

MY JOB EXPLAINED: MAD MEN VS REALITY PART 1

A lot of people don't understand what advertising people do.What they do understand is the show MadMen, which is how I usually explain my job.

But nobody really wants to know about my work. They want to know if the alcohol, sex, and craziness are all true. Fortunately, and unfortunately, it is.

DRINKING AT WORK

 TV:

This is what I get asked them most. In almost every episode everybody is drinking whiskey or beer during all hours of the work day.

REALITY:

100% true. At one agency I worked at, 3pm was beer 30. At another it was usually around 4. Whiskey and hard liquor were reserved for later in the night. And there is ALWAYS free beer. I loved one particular agency because we always had a cooler of really nice micro brews. At another they filled the fridge every Wednesday with Coors, High Life and Miller. My current agency has a keg going at all times.  If it was a late evening, we might go through a half a bottle of whiskey. There was one night my partner and I went out and bought bottles of wine and just drank straight out of those. We might sound like alcoholics, and we probably are, but at least we're functioning.

DO YOU THINK PANDA'S LOVE: PHILOSOPHICAL CONVERSATIONS

 TV:

Roger and Don have a lot of drunken, philosophical conversations. Their's usually revolve around work and women and it doesn't get more out of hand than that.

REALITY

Our philosophical conversations are a lot like what you think a teen age boy pot head would talk about. They are often random and get disgusting fast. Two of my Art Directors and I had a reoccurring one where we discussed our plan for the end of the world. We had a boat and the three of us had jobs. The guy would captain our boat and grows the weed and farms food on a secret island which we will use to barter. I'm heartless and would take care of the killing. The second girl on the boat would get pregnant over and over and her "magic power" would be a constant supply of breast milk, which since we clearly wouldn't have a fridge we would keep in a bag nestled within an old alligator head in the water to keep it cool.  Because pregnant people have out of control hormones we'd keep her in a cage at the top of the boat, with a stripper pole because we hear that's great exercise.

ACCOUNT VS CREATIVE

 TV:

Everybody on the show hates the account dudes, especially Pete Campbell. Why? Because they deal with clients who, most of the time drive creatives insane. Pete's job is to make the client happy, which pisses off everybody else on a regular basis.

REALITY

We fight alllll the god damn time. We might like each other out of work, but at work is a different story. Account people think Creatives are babies, we're drunks, complain about everything, don't care about what the clients wants and just what we want and are hard to deal with. Creatives think Account people are just working for the client, they don't care about the work or creativity, are uptight pains in the asses and zero fun. I've been in places where I've hated the account people, but I've been at places where I have loved the shit out of them and it's been amazing. But there're ALWAYS fights. 

Ex 1: A head account guy didn't like the creatives wearing snuggies. Especially to meetings. They were no longer allowed on the "meeting/account" floor so the head creative director told everyone to wear their snuggies to every single meeting possible.

Ex 2: A Creative Director and Account Guy got into a fight. The Creative Director told the account guy work would not commence until he left the floor and never returned. He never returned. 

Ex 3: An account person asked for a creative director to increase the logo by 10%. The CD yelled at her to get out of 1985. 

Ex 4: A head account guy flipped out on a creative team because they were completely off strategy. A notoriously drunk art director tried to clear the mood with a snarky comment and told the account man "John your suit looks nice today"  and he responded "No it doesn't. It's a shitty fucking suit. It doesn't even fit right" and left. 

Ex 5: I once told an account person I don't care about "the target audience" and to "fuck their face"

Nobody has every gotten fired because of any of this. 

THE SUITS

TV:

Ok, it's the era where everyone wears suits. Even the Creatives look nice in their fully buttoned up flannels and slicked back hair!

REALITY

The above photo is of me, at work in the lobby, in my snuggy. I wore this every where. We are not a very groomed crowd. At least the creatives aren't because we don't usually deal with clients. I've known Creatives who keep nice shirts folded in a drawer just in case a client comes in. At an agency I interned at we once got an email that said "even if you are at the office for 2-3 days straight you NEED to bring a change of clothes and at least shower."

Also I have a dollar pinned up by my desk from when I was sleeping on the subway in the morning, curled up on a seat wearing a ragged hoodie hungover. Someone thought I was homeless and put a dollar in my lap.

SLEEP? I'LL DO THAT WHEN I'M DEAD

 TV:

There's constantly tired creatives at the office. Peggy and her partner are always there late at night, being either bribed or yelled at by Don to get it done because that's their job.

REALITY:

100% true. At one point I realized I had worked almost 100 hours in one week. Weeks like that are insane and rare, but working till 2-4am isn't unrealistic. Neither is sleeping at the office. At one agency my partner and I made bunk beds out of my desk. At 5pm we'd turn off the lights and nap for an hour. He slept on the top of the desk and I slept underneath, George Costanza style with pillows stolen from various couches. 

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 :)