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.

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.

The Bad Ass Ladies of Bravo Company...And Beyond.

I've had a long absence from my blog for several reasons, all of which can be discussed at a later date.

This is much more important.

Last night my husband asked me what my dream was, and I told him I didn't know anymore. It used to be invading "The 3%" - which is the percent of women who hold executive, creative positions in advertising. Now that I'm half out of the biz, it's not really possible.

Hubby asked me what I wanted to be instead. After thinking about it, I decided I at least wanted to be what the 3% stood for. To be smart. Creative. I wanted people to look up to me. To be able to solve problems. To have people look at me and think "damn, that girl does some cool shit. I wish I could do that."

As I was saying this, I realized I knew women that had those traits, ladies other than female creative directors and ECDs. In fact, one of them had been sitting at our backyard fire last night. And it wasn't just her, there were several of them I counted among my good friends.

They are the bad ass lady helicopter pilots of the Army.

It perplexes me that I never really thought about them before during my time down in Alabama. We watch movies like Divergent and The Hunger Games, in awe of the female heroines, wishing they really existed. As it turns out, a lot of those ladies are more than real.

These ladies fly Apaches, shrieking into the middle of the fight guns blazing. They fly Blackhawks, landing through a tidal wave a bullets to pick up the fallen. And have you seen Act Of Valor when that boat goes flying out of the back of a Chinook hovering just above the water? Jeebus!.

And have you SEEN a helicopter hover? The pilots themselves have told me they don't actually know how it works. They fully believe it runs on magic, and somewhere there are unicorns and leprechauns sitting around drinking beer willing these things into existence.

By all rights these things shouldn't even be airborne. An airplane's natural state is soaring like a bird with it's wings open. A helicopter's natural state is upside down and on fire. That is where it wants to be.

Despite all that, women get in these things every day and take to the air. I know guys do these things too but let's be real. Men are stupid and do things for stupid's sake.  But ladies, we are smarter than that. I don't know what's wrong with you, but you do things I am incapable of.

Come on. How could you not want to drive that. 

So when it comes to all those traits I desire to have, I can find it in all of those women. Smart. Problem Solvers. People looking up and respecting them. Doing cool shit other people wish they could do.

It's even more bad ass than drinking whiskey and writing superbowl commercials at 3am.

When you think of the world they work in, it gets even more amazing. Working in any male dominated industry can be hard. We have to tougher, smarter, constantly proving ourselves, all while trying to stay feminine and be respected as one of the guys. I mean come on, you put a set of boobs in a guys face and sometimes all that shit you work for goes out the window.

Take it up a notch as a chick army pilot:
Can you imagine staying emotionally centered when Aunt Flow is visiting and all you want to do is cry, pass out and eat a damn brownie but instead you're trying not to crash a billion dollar machine/kill yourself while some asshole is yelling in your ear and bullets are flying? I feel for ya gurl. That's some stress.

My favorite story about a female pilot is of a Marine Corps CH-46 pilot in Iraq. Her helicopter was shot down on her last flight. When they spoke about her, they said when the alarm would sound and everybody would run to their Birds, she was the fastest. She'd always get there first out of that whole crew of dudes. As she went down, she was calm and collected over the radio, doing everything she could even though inventible death was staring her right in the eyeballs.

The decisions these women made every day are astounding. I envy their ability to make tough calls in the heat of the moment, to go into battle like a modern day Lagertha  or Breanne of Tarth, and to not run from fear but towards it.

So after the next Game of Thrones episode you watch, instead of going on and on about how you'd do Daenerys or think about learning archery because you're certainly going to learn to kill and skin a deer like Katnis then make out with the hot but oppressed guy who appears out of the woods, stop and think a minute. Instead imagine those ladies doing epic feats from 10,000 miles up in a machine that even the pilots think is run by magic.

Thank you to the ladies of Bravo Company here at Fort Rucker. It has been a pleasure getting to know you, be your friend, and to have felt your influence. You might not have felt like you taught me anything, but I have learned much. I am looking forward to annoying more of you in Fort Bragg. You are way cooler than army wives.



SOME FUN TID BITS:

There are only 10 women for every 100 US Helicopter Pilots in the Army- and funny story- they only account for 3 out of every 100 accidents (Where's that ALLSTATE voice over guy when you need him? 

The first female helicopter pilot graduated in June, 1974.

2013 is the first year they allowed female helicopter pilots to try out for the 160th SOAR (Special Ops Helicopter Unit). 2014 they accepted their female candidate.

One woman trying out for the 160th kicked her fellow dudes asses during pull ups. She did over 20 when they told her to stop. The other guys topped out at 10. How cool is that. BEAST MODE!

SIEZE THE DAY/ I FAILED TERRORISM 101

The military, for whatever reason, makes everybody and their Mom take an anti-terrorism course before they move out of the country. In theory, it's a good idea. In time-wasting-practice, it sucked.

You know, except for this super cool certificate they gave me. Perhaps I should frame it?

I enjoy they put "A T." It makes it sound more mysterious. 

*****This isn't to say that terrorism isn't a big deal or a terrible thing. People are affected by it each day. It goes beyond the U.S. to engulf thousands of people all over the world. *****

What the military does is boil it down to a sad attempt to make you more vigilant and strike fear into your heart. What I took away from this course is that I get a house on Base and never, ever leave. 

If you think about it though, staying home is probably just as bad for you. 

A lot of it just seemed incredibly over protective, and when I got a questions wrong I was confused because I thought I had answered with common sense. 

Oh, so THIS is how we walk down the stairs! My bad! 

Here's just a small taste (and these weren't even the most ridiculous ones): Did you know you should avoid staying on the 3rd and 5th floor, etc,. of a hotel? Floors with pools or gyms on them? Anything with an adjoining door? Alright, so I don't feel totally comfortable with rooms with adjoining doors, but we talking about terrorist, not serial killers here. They aren't going to pop up in your bathroom. 

Next you should not use showers without locks on them. 

Also, avoid largely populated places, especially known places Americans congregate. How many places does that get rid of? Clearly I should never have attended school in a different country, or gone to the bar after class for a few drinks. Forget the Louvre, tours, and meet up groups. The Hash House Harriers, my drinking running club, would absolutely be out. 

The army sides with Fred. Let's split up, gang! 

And don't forget all protestors. Even if they are hippies. If you see one at a train stop you planned on getting off at, get back on the train and go to the next stop. Walking past them could prove dangerous. 

That friendly looking clown is actually a zombie unicorn robot loaded with C4. 

I can't help but scuff about this because some of the most fun I had when I lived in Hamburg, Germany was not on the list of to-dos. I couchsurfed (If you aren't familiar with this, it's a great way to travel. You stay in people's homes for FREE! And they would show you around. If I stayed several nights or had a great host, I'd often make/buy them dinner).

Besides, after hearing about how scary hotels can be, I'd rather stay in a house anyway. 

I hitchhiked, stayed in hostels, explored every nook of cities, and went for runs when I deemed it safe- it was an amazing adventure. 

I was going to put a GIF from Hostel here but looking at them freaked me out and make me want to throw up. Enjoy this scary skull from the back of my friend's motorcycle helmet.

Here's the thing people- if a terrorist wants to get you, he's not going to hide under your bed. He'll blow up the whole building. It's not likely he's not looking for you specifically.

Unless someone I've pissed off comes to get me, and does it ironically. 

The only point of the war on terrorism is so we can live without fear. Giving a  half thought out online "course" about random events isn't helpful. 

Yes, it's good to be vigilant, and yes we should be aware, especially in a foreign country. But don't waste my time telling me to lock my door and then waste paper on a certificate for it. 

We shouldn't go to new places thinking of threats. We should go in search of opportunity. 

"..And the human race is filled with passion!...Poetry, beauty, romance, love!
These are what we stay alive for!

NEVER-NEVER LAND

For the past decade I feel like I've been waiting for life to start.

No matter what I've done, that feeling hasn't seemed to go away. 

Whether I've accomplished extraordinary things- Climbed a mountain, backpacked across Europe and slept on strangers couches, lived in Germany and 9 other cities, and jumped out of airplanes.

Or, what you might consider "normal" - Finished college, graduate school, had two "big girl jobs," got married and finished several marathons and triathlons. 

I feel stuck. I feel the same way I did ten years ago- like when I went to college I arrived into Never-Never Land and still haven't grown up. 

Perhaps it's all the moving and never settling down. In 10 years I've lived in 7 states, 10 cities, and 2 countries. And always I thought the next place was where life would start. There would be a new job, there would be a husband, there would be an opportunity- but it seems like I'm still waiting. 

It was always the next place. 

For the past 2.5 years I thought life would start when I got married and moved to Alabama, but this seems very much the same. Now the next "real life starting point" is El Paso- where I will finally get to set up and decorate the whole house, finish my personal training certification and start working at that, and settle down for a little bit. 

But some part tells me that three years in El Paso isn't going to make me feel adult, or like life has begun. I guess I'm still looking for something. 

I suppose Never-Never Land isn't a terrible place to be. It's fun, and free,. But it seems like there's an alligator waiting to bite off my hand somewhere. 

CONVERSATIONS WITH MY KIDNAPPER- UNCLE SAM

Now that I've calmed down about being sent to El Paso- and have seen some of the good things about the place - I can write a blog without sounding too ranty.

The absolute worst part about the move and about the military is total lack of control. You don't really know it, but once you get married you're escorted into a limo with a runaway cab driver who won't listen and has his own agenda.

Ok, so I knew before signing up I was going to Fort Rucker- but I was pretty much still in LA LA land. I had gotten into a van with a dude who promised to take me to Candy Mountain and I slowly learned that was not so. 

Alright so I'm starting to feel like something is up. What actually happened was I wanted to have a quick "I Do" sign some papers, etc so we could get started on our life together and then plan a big howdy do a year later. Nope. Here's why:

1) Need to get wedding insurance in case of deployment.

2) Can't get wedding insurance without leave papers

3) Can't get leave papers until getting a unit in March

4) Will find out when we get the unit in March if he will deployed.

5) Can't get leave papers if getting deployed.

6) Can't getting wedding insurance

7) No wedding. Good luck you all! 

Well frack. 

At this point I realize something is definitely weird. After a year of jumping through various hoops we put in our top 3 destinations, which as I learned don't matter. You just sit, waiting, having no real idea where or when. 

Alright so the bend over jokes are crude, but it shows that you are talking to someone without logic who just doesn't care what you have to say. It's like being driven around and handcuffed by a psychotic teen. 

At some point I realized that the military isn't actually listening to me. It can be sort of nice and provide you with organizations to help you out- like the Family Readiness Program, schools, etc- as compensation for the lack of control and you and your spouse get (and in some cases those who actually put their life on the line for the country, which is actually less people then you'd expect. People forget that you can be in the army and work at a desk or in a warehouse- which I'm not saying isn't important it's just different.) 

Some people are cool with the lack of control and going with the eb and flow easily. 

While I love new places, exploring, and making new friends, the inability to go and do things where and when I want will always be hard. 

I'll make the best of El Paso and who knows maybe I'll even love it- but for now I wish my voice would count. 

THE CHIP ON MY SHOULDER (PART 2)

Sorry if this sounds a little distracted. Someone is making WOOKIE noises in my office, and I'm not even wearing my wookie vest.

Anyway.

Two weekends ago we went to the Marine Corp Ball. Dear Husband is in the Army now,  but "Once A Marine, Always a Marine"- which means :

1) I get to buy a pretty gown and get pampered
2) He HAS to dance with me
3) I'm allowed to be drunk and crazy, just not THE drunkest or craziest.

It was exactly what I needed because Fort Rucker, etc, is more boring than everyone who actually likes bowling, and the dive bars are stickier than a computer screen 1 minute into pornhub.

Before the ball we went out to dinner with several couples. I applauded myself for being well behaved, engaged, and almost completely nonjudgemental. I did not once roll my eyes and even enjoyed snippets of conversation.

When we got to the ball I was introduced to one of the wives who'd been on the far end of the table. She started off the conversation with "Ohhh so YOU'RE the one who hates military wives!"

Crap.

Even though she didn't mean it negatively, because she's just as TMI as I am, that wasn't a reputation I exactly wanted to garnish. Not because it matters to Dear Husband's career (Even though people say it does, EFF that.) but because I'd rather be known as the fun, crazy girl and not the crazy bitch.

Then later I met "Jane" - Myself from a few months ago. She lives in San Diego where her boyfriend had been stationed when they started dating, and now she flies down to Pensacola to visit him.

The first thing she told me was how she didn't like military wives and didn't want to be one, etc.

And get this: I was freaking offended. Because I'm a military wife. 

I mean, WTF. Where did that come from?  I've been refusing to be all along and here I am at the Marine Corps Ball playing nice and smiling on Dear Husband's arm and I'm offended.

AHHHHH.  It's happened.

After a few minutes of crazed internal arguments and probably looking insane I remembered how difficult the transition was and still is.  I struggled for months before we even got engaged because I found the idea of being an Army Wife nauseating. The lack of control I'd have in my career, where I'd live, and everyone with babies was enough to make my head reel.

So I told her about all of that, and how now I still have my career (even if it's 3 hours away), and honestly, it's all worth it.

It's sounds gross and goopy but there's few things that make me happier than sitting on the couch with my hubs.

Just don't expect me to get any "Go Army Wife" bumper stickers.

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.