"Approximately", that's army for; "whenever".

Something I didn't know and still don't understand about the army is how they handle travel arrangements.  At least for the one guy I know.  While Craig was in the states travel was mildly straight forward.  I remember he had to fly to Denver for some Run-fastest/stand-straightest solider contest.  As I recall, all that needed to be done was to book a flight.  There was a certain amount of red tape but nothing like the adventure he's had getting to and now coming back from Afghanistan.  I understand that Denver and Afghanistan are a few miles away from one another but somehow I can't wrap my head around the fact that an organization that prides itself on organization and discipline can so often be wishy-washy and haphazard.

When I say approximately 10 days I mean just that.  I don't know when he's actually arriving.  Nor does he.  Nor will he.  For hours or even days into his trip he will not know when he might reach his final destination.  He calls it; "Hitchhiking on Uncle Sam's dime."  I call it crazy with a backwards K. (Sadly I lack the compy to actually spell it that way).  So he leaves on the 19th and could arrive home anytime between then and the 24th.  It was the same getting there for him.  On the first leg of his trip they told him to hang out in an air force hanger.  Literally, hang out.  They had no idea when a flight might be going and he needed to be ready at a moments notice.  Then the army shuffled him from place to place, finally leaving him stranded in Kuwait.  I called it Kuwait-ing (as opposed to what he does now which is Afghanistan-ding around).  In the end he, quite literally, had to hitchhike to Afghanistan.  Thumbing rides from one place to the next on military transport making his way slowly to his base.  I wonder what they did during past wars, shuffle man after man on a train and hope they get to the right place?  Military precision is a joke.  I don't know, maybe I shouldn't speak in generalities.  I know very little beyond my own experience on this subject.  But I digress.  I'm so happy and excited that a few days plus or minus mean very little.  I have so many things planned, dear reader.  I will write about all of them.  But for now that is all.  I will probably write again before he arrives.  Hopefully with more news.  

The seemingly endless suck! PS This one's a downer.

I'm in a very odd relationship.  And while this is not a relationship blog, it is as much about relationships as anything else.  I have nothing to relate this to in any past experience.  Day to day I try to glase it over.  I try to make it sound like no big deal.  I even do it to you, dear reader.  Trying to relate this thing to normal things in life. But it's not normal.  Sometimes having Craig gone just feels like a series of complaints.  The truth of the matter is;

THIS SUCKS, IN STERIO, THIS SUCKS!

I got a big reminder of it yesterday.  I was having a rough day and I was feeling pretty down in the dumps.  I confronted a fear that had been upsetting me for several months.  I sent Craig an email telling about my day and how difficult it felt and blah, blah, blah.  I got it all out and in a way that felt good.  He emailed me back and was very sweet and supportive and said some things I wanted to hear, some things I didn't.  It balanced out to be "all the right things".  He really couldn't have said it better in person but it still felt insufficient.  It's in these moments that I realize how blank this thing really is.  Because, while email is great and phones are available and I hear from him fars more than any of my fore-mothers in war gone by ever did, there is still an emptiness in all this that can't be filled.  Because it's moments like this where words or even actions aren't enough or maybe they're too much.  I realized as I was falling a sleep very depressed that I didn't need anyone to say anything.  I didn't need anyone to do anything.  I just needed someone to be there.  To have someone else's energy there with me to keep me from floating away.  That is when my ability to see the silver-lining ended.

This is a real downer.  Sorry about that.  He'll be here in 3 weeks so there is every reason to believe that he'll be able to revive my ability to hope.

   

Little Boy Blue (this also counts as "This week in Emailing" because it's an email from Craig)

I had no idea what I was going to write about this week.  I started three different blog ideas but was getting nowhere and getting pretty impatient with Craig who I hadn't heard from in six days.  Then this morning I woke up to the following email and not only did he give me the fix I'd been needing he also fixed my problem.

Craig with his friend Lyda.  Aren't his eyes so blue?

A little bit of back story.  Craig has the most amazing blue eyes, like lazer-beams.  I first called him Blue-Lazer, then Blue now it's Little Boy Blue.  He hates them all and I think that's what I like best about them.

Craig sent me the following email in an attempt it get me to think of another.  I'm considering it.

Miss you bunches batgirl. and you really gotta get over this lazer blue thing. really, its beneath you. youre an actress, comedianne, writer...creativity is your whole life. You can come up with somethin better than a poorman's excuse for an American Gladiator's moniker. I understand your stubborn streak and natural sense of defiance. I like that part of you so much. You ain't some bimbo who does what she's told. But c'mon, take a step back from it and you'll realize that no one is called that because it doesn't demean the person who's title it is...it demeans the person who came up with said title. And that simply put makes it the Anti-Nickname.

Nickname rules: 

1. must be either a derision of an obvious physical trait or a subtle inside joke that only close friends are aware of.

2. must have a funny story to back up proposed nickname.

3. must be accepted by friends and/or relatives (subject/victim has little say in choosing but a good nickname is something he/she embraces).

4. shortenings of given and surnames are accepted, but are a worst case scenario (this also includes adding the suffix -y to given names). these are to be used sparingly and only in circumstances where embarrassing examples cannot be applied. see appx. 1.

5. true nicknames are predominately for men. as most women haven't the thick skin and emotional security that comes from years of torture, torment and lets face it, a complete lack of sophistication and intelligence.

6. the final and most important rule: Nicknames ARE NOT the same as Petnames.

Appendix 1: Petnames

The differences between a nickname and petname can be categorized in specific and general terms. In general, the difference is simply between intimate relations (i.e. committed sexual relationships: men/women, women/women, men/men, men/goats, catherine the great/horses, etc.). But that is an unsophisticated baseline categorization. The more subtle tale between Nick and Petnames are as follows: Petnames are usually thought of by girls to separate themselves and their partner from everyone else thereby enhancing the reality or illusion of intimacy (you ever hear a man called pookie or snookums  by their bar buddies? exception includes a 5 minute to 5 day rant by said friends when they hear a given Petname in public, usually on accident - Note: always the girls fault!). A Petname is an approved form of teasing towards women by their significant other. If you were to call a girlfriend or wife 'fatass', say goodbye to your testicles. however, a tactically placed Petname (usually either a half-truth, irony, or satire of a complete falsehood) can be an acceptable way of poking fun at said significant other (i.e. calling your skinny girlfriend 'fluffy', 'plumpy', 'tons of fun') - Note: be warned, not every woman has a sense of humor about herself and her natural insecurities. A Petname is obviously concocted when the relationship has solidified. Any Petname created before this point is null and void, and also a little creepy (or such name could become a candidate for Nickname status, but it must be voted on by a panel of close friends of the same gender as the namee). Finally, a Petname tends to have a minimum of 50/50 percent for the cute to teasing ratio; whereas a Nickname usually has 0/100 percent for the cute/teasing ratio. In conclusion, Nicknames are for public use by guys, and Petnames are for private use by couples.

So where does Lazer Blue (what does the other B stand for anyway?) stand? Decidedly too nice, too obvious and common a physical trait referenced, and too lame for a Nickname. Ergo, it MUST be a Petname. But not a very good one at that. 

Now would probably be a good time to tell you i hate Petnames. But as they go, this one doesnt make me want to vomit. Its just annoying in the wrong way. I think you can do better.

So thats my tirade for the month. hope you enjoy it. and youre more than welcome to sample it for your blog. it isnt book related, but hell, who are we kidding? that blog has as much to do with literature as military has to do with intelligence!

miss ya batgirl (can i comment on how cool it is that I gave you a nickname - it qualifies, even though your friends dont use it - and you like/tolerate it! ive never known a girl that cool, until you.)

until our next email,

Shy...Chuck...Copper...or is it Deadguy?

PS. i really dont care what you call me. i just felt like teasing you and giving you a hard time...for shits and giggles.

Isn't he adorable?

Things I didn't know I'd miss.

Craig and I are still going back and forth about the book but I promise part 2 of "So, maybe it is a book club.  A little." very soon.  In the meantime hear is a little ditty I like to call things I didn't know I'd miss.  Enjoy.

When you know someone is leaving for a deployment you expect a lot of things and you try to prepare yourself.  I read a lot of things from army wives and girlfriends and it's everything you expect it to be.  It helps but it's all pretty much the same.   The same advice passed from one person to the next and with each person it becomes more general.  All you have to do is find someone who's writing style fits your personality and it will make great sense.  

It feels very much a product of the army.  The army takes all these men and women from different parts of the country, with different backgrounds, who all joined for  different reasons and have different expectations and they make them the same as possible because that is how they work best in a war.  That is how they fight best, united in everything.  That's what it feels like happens in army wives (I refer to Wives and Girlfriends but I recognize Husbands too).  You're surrounded by this world of uniformity, you're not OF it you are IN it and IT starts to rub off on you. The reality is that there are things that are true for almost everyone and advice that will help almost everyone and I am grateful to have these resources.  

    That said, here are some things that I never realized and was never told I'd miss.  In no particular order:  

   

Holding hands.  It was never my thing but now I don't have his big mitt to clumsily crush my fingers I find that my hands feel empty.  

Snoring.  He says he doesn't but he totally does.  

Toothpaste.  He uses this Orangey-peppermint crap that tastes like cough medicine.  

Terrible movies.  Craig watches everything and inevitably by the time we would go to the movies together the only thing he hadn't seen was something awful.  

Oppressive snuggling.  He likes to sleep close and he runs so hot.  It's like being mauled by a space-heater.  

Radio wars 2009; KCRW v. JACKFM.  My car, my station!!!    

Foot rubs.  Oddly my friends have no interest in touching my feet. (I know I said no particular order but if there were an order this would be first and most important.  OM gwad!!  I miss it.)

 This Face.

Who knew that Craig's cranky "No more pictures" face would be something to wish for?

     Someone to take the book off my chest when I've fallen asleep reading.  I thought it was the book fairy but it turns out it was Craig all along.

Someone to do the dishes for.  Living alone, the temptation to just let them sit there is too great.  That's actually true for cleaning my apartment in general.

Trying to keep up running with him.  If you had told me during one of our trail runs that I would actually miss trying to keep up with him I would told you that you were crazy.  But it was nice to have someone fitter than me pushing me to work harder. 

Refrigerator Roulette.  Will the pudding still be there when I get back?  You never know.

    All those things and a million other stupid things that only a boyfriend will do.  Maybe my next blog should be things I don't miss because now I feel sad.  Hey that's something I don't miss--feeling sad.  

 

So maybe it is a book club. A little.

Proof that not only can I get the book from the library but I can also hold it in front of me.  

     So I thought I might mention where the name for my blog came from. When Craig knew for sure he was leaving I went through many thoughts and fears. Not the least of which was the fear that we'd have nothing in common for a year. So the name for this blog came from an idea I had to help Craig an I in our separation. We knew that our lives were going to be very different for about a year. Well his life was going to be different, mine was going to be very much the same as always. Knowing that, we realized that we might have a difficult time finding things to email about. Ways to relate to each other beyond, "this is what my day was like." Especially since his would be edited to protect my fearful heart and mine would be edited to shield him against homesickness. So we decided, well I decided, that we would starting reading the same book at the same time so we'd at least have that way of relating.

It hasn't been going well, for a number of reasons. 

1. Craig will read any book you put in front of him and I have trouble focusing on books that don't truly interest me. 

1a. He will burn through books with some speed and I, when given something I enjoy, like to savor it. 

1b. We don't always have the same taste in books 

2. My schedule is very much the same day after day, week after week. Craig's schedule is sporadic. He could be slogging for days at seemingly endless tasks and then have absolutely nothing to do for days. In slow times he can read, lets say, one-million books. At busy times, nothing. So while I'll be reading the same book for a month he'll have read it, forgotten it, moved on to a new book, forgotten that one and so on and so forth. When I'm done with a book he can't remember what I'm talking about. 

3. Our access is...different. When he was in possession of a KINDLE I could read a book and he could download it to read but now that said KINDLE has been stolen I have to wait until he's read something and I can get it from the library. Boo.

All that said we are making an attempt at it. He has read recently "Fool" by Christopher Moore and I am making an attempt to power through it before he's forgotten it or I've become distracted by something shiny. I got it a few days ago and I'm about 2/3rds of the way through. When I'm finished I will enthrall you with transcripts of the emails that gush forth from our "something normal" to talk about. Stay tuned.

"More things I just shouldn't watch."

My heart goes out to this mans family. I'm feeling just plain nut-bags for even watching this stuff.  Craig has the same job as this man.

Staff Sgt. Derek Farley Dies Disarming IED.

   The first time I watched this I got about 10 seconds in before I just couldn't stand the stupid look on the newscaster's smug face.  The second time I watched it was even shorter.  I finally got through the whole thing today.  It made me so angry.  Maybe I'm just an angry person in general.

   It's interesting to me that there was once a time I could think objectively about these kinds of news stories.  I could watch them and think how sad it is for the man's parents, family, girlfriend.  How strong they are all being.  But it wouldn't register for me.  I was completely disconnected from it, as are so many Americans.  I feel like stories like this are evidence of that disconnection.  There they are, the grieving parents, stoic as statues.  Playing the part that they think their son would play.  Acting the way they think he would behave.  And they're probably right.  Soldiers are some phlegmatic motherfuckers.  It serves a purpose in there lives.  Emotion is messy.  When your life depends on focus that mess is a luxury.

     Why do we do this sort of thing?  It seems like torture to put these people's very real grief on display like it's inspirational or entertainment.  Forcing these poor people to recount the last memories and present the last mementos of their son for a viewing audience.  The segment is far too short to really honor the pain.  I guess we really don't want to do it justice, it would make us all feel far too guilty.  I think that is why I hate this story.  It makes those people who have lost a love one relive their sorrow, those like me, who have someone still in danger sick with fear and leaves those without direct connection relatively unmoved.  It's a lose, lose, lose situation.   I don't know what the answer is but with a 24 hours of news a day I know we have the time and resources to do better.

GOOD THINGS

Lately I've been finding myself dwelling on what sucks about this. What I don't have and what I wish I had. Lately the only time I've felt good about Craig being gone is when I don't think about it. But the truth is that it isn't all bad. If it was I wouldn't be writing a blog. I'd be dating some some British Bass player. But I'm not because this person, with all his faults, makes me hope for the best and makes "wait and see" seem reasonable. So, for this blog, I thought I'd take a little time to point out the good stuff. If only to pull myself out of the dumps, which are lame and also for suckers.

Good thing number one. There is something very Edwardian about being in love with a man in far off places. It has been long know about me that I am ever so slightly obsessed with the British Naval Tradition. It has most recently been illustrated in my reading of eight or so Patrick O'Brien books and watching Master and Commander like...I don't know...I'm guessing, approximately...one-million times. It's fascinating!! And anyone who doesn't think so is probably sane and not a dork like me. Anyway, the couples that lived within this world were separated for long periods of time. The distance creates a resonance between them. The way a violin string can be stretched and stretched and as it gets pulled it becomes sweeter and at times, sadder. Sometimes making an aching sound full longing and sometimes one of joy.

Good thing number two. When communication is very limited that limitation makes it valuable. When facebook can tell me what half my friends are eating for lunch a real email from someone who has half and hour of internet access at a time is special. In an age when communication is so instant I still get to have moments of anticipation. Having to wait can be very romantic. And there is nothing quite like a love letter. Now it's not like we're using carrier pigeons or, god forbid, snail mail but even the little bit of waiting is excruciatingly wonderful. And I get gems like this;

"i hope writing helps you as much as it does me. i'm becoming slightly more self aware. i now have surpassed the self-awareness of a sea sponge! look at me, I'm evolving!"

and

" i just have to cowboy the fuck up and sort out my own shit." (PS I have no idea where he got this phrase. He grew up in LA. The closest he's ever been to "cowboy-ing the fuck up" is a horseback ride through Griffith Park.)

Good thing number three. My life is all my own. No answering to nobody. (Except my mother.) It's like I don't have to be lonely a'cause I have a boyfriend and we've got that achy voiliny thing going on. But I also have total autonomy. It's like the best of both worlds. (and also the shit parts of both worlds but we're not talking about that right now.)

Good thing number four. My patriotic duty is totally done. My apathy-guilt factor is knocked down like 25%.

Plus, I'm here, not there. I get to wake up everyday in my own bed and live my boring, but safe, life. I get to sit and traffic in my good-old car and reach over to my passenger seat and remember holding his hand in that self-same car. I get to watch my brother get married and see my family. I get go to bed every night knowing I'm in no danger.

In the end I do get to be in love with a wonderful person who happens to be on the other side of the planet. My life is pretty great.

SOLDIERS SURPRISE or FUCKING FACEBOOK or THINGS I JUST SHOULDN'T WATCH.

There are good days and there are bad days. It's life right? Some days I don't even think about it and some days I burst into tears driving in my car. What sucks is that you can never really predict what a will trigger either and that makes everyday a dice-roll. My alarm went off early this morning and dragged me out of a beautiful dream. I can't remember what happened. All I remember was that Craig was there and we were together. Like in the same country. In the dream I felt great but waking up was a little heartbreak. I got over it with a little help from my morning coffee and jumped on facebook and someone posted this.

(The music is ridiculous but I spent 10 minutes weeping nonetheless.)

I also watched "The Messenger". I know. I'm a moron.

I seems so crazy that anyone can make this sort of thing work. It's so painful, how do you get to the other end. Everyday your thoughts about the whole thing change. Two weeks ago I was fine. Focusing on my life and just getting things done. Today, I don't feel like getting out of bed.

The thing that is getting to me today is the total lack of assurance. There are no guarantees here. There is nothing saying that he'll come back the same as when he left. Or that he'll come back at all. Or that I'll be the same or feel the same. All I can do is get up and hope for the best. Today that feels like an exercise in futility, but it's not like I have any other options.

I don't know how I'm going to do this.

So I guess I'll start

I have no idea what I'm doing. I opened this blog account months ago. Before Craig even left the country and only now am I even starting to write anything.

When this all started I thought it would be fun. I didn't think anything would come of it. Now I'm knee-deep in a cranberry bog of crazy and I wonder how anyone makes a real go of it. I guess I'll should start at the beginning.

I met "The Sgt." on Oct. 3, 2009, his 31 birthday. It was a strange confluence of events that

even made it possible and I get some pleasure out of sharing so here goes.

I was finishing a shift at The Daily Grill, an important shift actually. It was exactly 3 years since I started working a that self-same establishment and wondering, as one often does, why I was still there after so long. It goes without saying but I'll say it anyway. I was in need of a drink. I took my apron off, clocked out and sent a text:

"Need beer. Who's in?"

I sent this message to 10 people and vowed that whatever the response I was going to go out and not succumb to the call of my sweat-pants. On the drive home from work I got 3 bites. Two were something similar to: "I wish I could but have to work in the morning." and "Want to but I'm ironing my hanky's." The third was from Miss Kara Wall. A girl that in hind-sight has changed the course of my current life.

"Where?" She says.

"Snake Pit?" Says I.

And with that, it was off to the Snake Pit we rolled. On my way to this hole in the wall situated in a semi-cozy part of Melrose I received a call from Kara to let me know she's bringing her roommate Bethany.

"The more the merrier." Says I. Then she said something that changed everything;

"See you at The Cat and the Fiddle."

"Um, wha...Okay. See you soon." I replied hanging up my phone.

Did you see it? It was a change of venue. At the time I believed it to be purposefully but sometime later I was to be told that it was merely a slip of the tongue. So I pass Snake Pit in favor of the classier digs at the Cat and the Fiddle. Parking, walking and showing my ID to the nice man at the front I gave no thought to the fact that Kara changed bars without so much as a "hope you don't mind." I got my beer and waited in the courtyard for my friends. I got a call apx 5 minutes later letting me know that they were almost at The Snake Pit and that is where the confusion was hashed out. She had said the wrong name and went to the right bar. Confusion cleared, plans changed and Kara quickly turned around to meet me at the bar on Sunset that I'd ended up in because of her slippery tongue. Kara and Bethany arrived and we began drinking our casual beers in the style to which ladies such as ourselves have become accustomed. After one beer we decided to have another and we removed ourselves to the bar indoors. This is

when I met him, the man I now refer to as "The Sgt."

Ordering a beer I bumped him with my purse. Forcing him to spill part of the birthday beer bought for him by Lyda. A friend of his that I would not meet on this night but would come to appreciate later in a relationship fraught with hurdles. "Sorry. My gigantic purse keeps hitting you." I said. "That's okay." Craig replied. Then I notice how handsome he was. Tall, 6'1" as it would turn out, and Ginger which I had a thing for ever since J.Go at Utah State. He turned and spoke to us with all the hypnotic power a strong square jaw can weald over single women and we all made polite conversation. After, I'm guessing 2 minutes, came the words the would turn my ears deaf and prompt me to walk away.

"What do you do?" Asked Kara.

"I'm in the Army."

"How interesting. I'm gonna...go...sit down." I said in reply.

To Kara's credit she continued to make conversation and didn't instantly lay judgements on him like I did. I was confused by the revelation and I, I'm sad to say, assumed Craig was a Republican and tried to make my exit. As I retreated Kara and Bethany followed like good friend and we returned to our perch by the fountain to continue our girls evening.

Luckily for me Craig took a shine to me and made a point to find us later at the fountain. Though I didn't notice it on the night, Craig was enthralled with me. Kara noticed and pointed it out to me later.

After about 20 minutes he approached us. While I was turned off by his assumed republicanism I was won-over by the sheer wattage of his charm. He was well read, well educated and most importantly, funny. After talking to him my assumptions about him didn't seem to matter anymore. We talked and talked and while he gave polite nods to my friends he always returned to me as soon as possible. I was the thing he couldn't stop looking at and listening to. We talked long after my friends had to get home and sleep and when they closed the bar we were still talking. We were still talked while he walked me to my car. And when my friends called to make sure I got him safe, we were still talking. It was amazing. We sat in my car and talked and talked and talked until 3 in the morning. He had that gift that some people have of making the person they are with feel like the most important person in the world. It was strange to feel so acknowledged.

I wasn't in the market for anything serious or anything anything really. I was three months out of a really shit and destructive three year relationship. But Craig was and is a man who knows what he wants. No embarrassment, no fear. He just goes for things all pistons firing and I happened to be that thing he wanted.

After some less-than G-rated making out I drove him to his car and we parted ways. He asked for my number and I gave it to him. No expectations, just a pleasant end to a good night. He called me the next day and the day after that and the day after that. We've been together ever since.

It's been difficult but not in a way I've ever experienced before. In past relationships it's always felt like in a storm there was something wrong with the ship. The relationship has a leak and even small storms were too much to navigate. With Craig the relationship feels strong but the storm is massive. I don't know how it's going to turn out. I don't know if we'll make it through. But I'm in it and hoping for the best.