This is a non-Navy rant.

To preface this, until Ax and I move in October I am staying at my parents' house. My dad is a huge jerk to pretty much everybody except his mother and my brother.

My mom has a degree in Medical Assisting and is busting her ass to get her foot in the door at a clinic. Right now she works two jobs just to cover SOME of her bills. At the "morning" job, she is quite often verbally abused, taken advantage of, and has office procedures changed on her with no notice--just a reprimand after she does it "wrong'.

Mom doesn't have a whole lot of self-esteem to begin with. Part of this is my dad, and part of it is the depression that runs on that side of the family. (Yes, me too.)

So when she came home last night nearly in tears about what was said to her during the morning, I told her she didn't have to take it. Call someone and report her behavior. The doctor who owns the office doesn't give two shits what the manager does (the mean lady), so going to him will do nothing.

I barely finished the sentence about calling the labor standards office and seeing what kind of path she can take to rectify the situation, and my dad starts yelling about "WHERE THE HELL WILL THE GROCERIES COME FROM THEN??"

Excuse me for trying to be a supportive daughter, when you utterly fail as a supportive husband (and father). The last thing I need is to lose my mom to suicide (and I KNOW she's thought about it before).

This is the first time in several years he's made me cry. For the most part, the hide I have when it comes to him is inpenetrable. But mom and I are clearly no longer people to him, we're just...financial burdens, I guess. Nevermind that HE offered to pay off my car as a wedding gift to Ax and I. HE offered to make some payments on the one loan I took out for school. HE offered to help my mom purchase a new car.

I'll be honest. My dad is obese. When you're pregnant, you kind of have that arched back and you waddle instead of walk, right? My dad walks like that every. day. EVERY day. But insists nothing is wrong.

Maybe my mom would be able to afford groceries if she didn't have to feed six people instead of just three. He eats enough for three people at pretty much every single meal. By Friday, when there should be leftovers, I'm lucky if I even get a handful of french fries (or whatever). I literally have to hoard food in order to make sure I get some.

Dad has been a gigantic jerk ever since my brother was born--and I don't resent my brother for it. It's not his fault, it's my dad. It's like when P was born, I suddenly ceased to exist as a human or as a daughter. I was just another mouth to provide for. I spent years trying to get his approval and his attention. at 17, i finally gave up. Clearly he doesn't want me.


So...rant. When my dad finally kicks the bucket I hope it's painful and he's all alone. I know that if he ever needed 911 in my presence I'd just toss him a phone and tell him good luck. If he can't treat me like a human, I won't treat him like one.

of Ax and dogs.

I wish it would hurry up and be September already. I really miss Ax.

We decided not to have a visit in August. Rather, Ax decided we shouldn't. I mentioned something about the car making it all the way to CT and was more or less told to not go. Not that he doesn't want to see me, but we should save money for the move.

While I understand where he's coming from (and actually am a tiny bit relieved I don't have to drive 18 hours by myself), I wish he had just said that outright instead of going through the whole picking-out-dates thing with me and then telling me a few weeks later he changed his mind.

It's the first time since we got married that I was actually pissed at him. I was really mad because I already asked for the days off at work, and that would screw up Lisa's schedule. Kind of the "you only thought about yourself" thing, I guess. I'm over it though.

Instead, I'll be flying out there for his A-school graduation at the end of September. I'm hoping that by working all these extra hours I can save up enough for a flight and a car for two days--i'd fly in wednesday, his graduation is thursday, and we'd fly back to WI on friday. Then two whirlwind weeks of family and friends before it's off to the duty station.


When we find out where we're moving...I'm gonna start looking at animal rescues/shelters for a dog. On Sunday, I volunteered at a greyhound kennel after they got a haul of 24 retired dogs. Walks, ear cleaning, nail trims, tick checks, deworming, flea/tick defense, basic vet check, another walk, new collars, food, ID cards on the crates, and finally some quiet for them to relax and get some sleep.

It was busy. I loved every second of it. The dog I had for the day was named Hee Bee Gee Bee. she was such a sweetie. :)

While all the dust, dander, and dirt kicked up my allergies, I wouldn't have traded it for the world. I missed being around dogs! I got so many doggie kisses from all the hounds, too. so cute. :)

Kings Bay, Bangor, San Diego...

Kings Bay, Bangor, San Diego...

Ax texted me today saying that he's so anxious about getting his choice of orders that it's making his chest hurt. I don't think anything has ever been so...monumental...to him. I think in comparison, getting married was a cakewalk.

Don't tell him, but I think it's kind of cute that he's so anxious.

Kings Bay, Bangor, San Diego.

I wish I could be with him to try and keep him distracted but by the time I visit next we'll know where we're moving to.

Kings Bay, Bangor, San Diego.

He's hoping for a boomer. I honestly don't have a preference (the preference of "don't go out" doesn't apply here..dang). As long as he's happy with his job, then I am happy. I suppose there is the chance that in two years, he might get the opposite boat if we move to a new duty station.

So we play the waiting game. Or rather, Ax does. I'm not the one going out on a boat for months at a time...if I was, I'd certainly want my first choice too. I'm mostly excited to see where we're going to live. I am getting anxious to have the chance to explore a new city, a new library, and have a doggie again.

--

Now that I have a blog again, I wanted to start a new paper journal too...oy vey. Like I don't have enough hobbies already? I spent this morning at work googling writing prompts and stuff to keep my mind working. I don't want to just write about Ax and I all the time, I want some writing to be goofy or at least about different subjects so I don't get bored. Depending on the subject, maybe I'll cross-post it here.

I woke up today to the news about what happened near Denver. I want to know WHY he did it. That's my criminal justice side coming out...I have the feeling he picked the release night on purpose, though, to maximize his targets. What gets me is that people thought that because of the way he was dressed, he was "part" of the movie. I know they tried to make this Batman movie the biggest and best one yet, but COME ON. With the shit that goes on in the world these days, do you really think theatres would allow that? And besides, if it WAS allowed, don't you think there would have been more than one person dressed in riot gear? One person doesn't really add to the effect, but two or three might.

Also, please explain why you'd take an infant (one of the injured was a 3 month old I think) to a midnight showing of a movie?

Boggles the mind, it does.

With that, it is now time for my noms. Om nom nom salad, plum, and wheat thins. Then four more hours of boredommmm. Le sigh. At least it's Friday.

Two weeks and counting...

Until we find out where the first duty station is. Ax is extraordinarily nervous; I think it's because once we're there, it's the REAL DEAL and not just "pretend" anymore. No more school, now he actually has to apply all that knowledge he's learned over the course of nine months. I'm anxious because I want to start looking for jobs (there's no way we can afford all the bills on an  E-3 salary). And I want to start looking for a doggie to adopt. Ever since we put Sarah down in March, my life has had a gigantic hole in it. :(

My Treeing Walker Coonhound, Sarah. <3

To try and fill in that hole temporarily, I'm headed to the local Greyhound rescue on Sunday to welcome in a new herd of hounds. I would LOVE to adopt a Grey when we move, but all sorts of doggies need forever homes...so whoever attaches themselves to my leg will come home. 

---

I'm part of the Groton FB page, where a bunch of wives/moms talk about their Sailors and yadda yadda...one of the Sailors is being separated from the Navy for a failure to adapt. He had ALMOST made it through schooling too. He hates being away from his family so much that it's affected his ability to do his job. Where he is originally from is really struggling economically right now so he likely won't have a job when he gets back home. It's disappointing, to be honest. Ax called him a "shitbag", which I have noticed is a common term for people who are not good at their jobs, but I think that's a bit harsh. I imagine the Navy (as well as other branches of military) realize that there are going to be people who will just not fit in after trying and pushing through most of their training. People who are on a boat against their will (more or less) are dangerous and he's honestly better off elsewhere. I was hoping they'd transfer him to surface ships, but I guess they decided to cut ties with him entirely. 

On a sadder note, this thread on Reddit (yeah, I reddit) made me cry. A poster submits a photo of his brother who was killed two years ago today by an IED. Someone from the brother's outpost in Afghanistan posted more photos of them during their tour, with stories/background for each one. It was really really touching. I don't normally cry at ANYTHING, much less a story on the internet (as cold-hearted as this will seem, servicepeople die all the time over there)...but something got to me in this one.

And now, I return to my NCIS mini-marathon. Mmmm Gibbs. ahahahah.

Musings on the future career of a Navy Wife

Some of the blogs I follow also guest post on SpouseBuzz, so now I'm email subscribed to that too. How I'll ever keep up with all this reading I'll never know--actually, I do. The four hours of work three days a week in which I do nothing but answer the phone once in a while. Getting paid to read blogs is no different than getting paid to read a book. Or color, because I did that for a while too. Seriously, my job is boring--but I am extremely grateful to have one.

This article/blurb kind of struck a nerve with me. Not because it was poorly written or because it attacked anybody. But because I don't have a job that is an interest or passion of mine. I mean, I CAN have a job like that one day, but therein lies the rub.

( I honestly have no idea what is meant by "there's the rub", but I read it in a book and it sounded cool. Feel free to correct my usage!)

I have a degree in Criminal Justice from what is probably one of the worst universities in the union. The graduation rate for Parkside was something like 35%--because people either used it as a launchpad for the university they really wanted to go to, or because they failed out and never came back. My opinions on the closing of the university is an entire post in and of itself, however, suffice it to say that this piss-poor graduation rate doesn't help its case any.

I have several interests and or passions:

- paralegal (interest)
- dogs (interest AND passion)
- books (interest AND passion)
- helping veterans (interest, maybe passion?)

So far the only interest or passion my current job comes close to is the helping of veterans. The floor I work on houses the CVSO and an "assistant" (although the "assistant" has been here longer than the CVSO!). Greeting vets, telling them about my husband, asking about their service (which branch, any particular wars, etc), and getting them bus tickets to the VA center in Milwaukee is extremely rewarding. If Ax wasn't in the military maybe I'd not be so interested in helping veterans. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy helping others and solving problems, but without being placed in this particular situation with Ax, maybe it wouldn't mean as much to help them. Especially the homeless ones, which honestly breaks my heart every damn time.

With my CJ education (which is mostly a laughable joke at best) and strong clerical skills, paralegal would be an excellent choice of career for the rest of my working life. Problem is, I'd have to go back to school to be certified. I am so burnt out from school, papers, exams, lessons, etc. that the thought almost makes me sick.
I considered grad school for library science, but my grades are so godawful that I doubt anyone would accept me into a Master's program. I suppose for now, volunteering in a library would have to do. Forking over more money for a Master's doesn't exactly leave a good taste in my mouth either, haha.

That leaves dogs. I've watched the animal cops shows on Animal Planet, and while I would LOVE to do that...my cat allergies are too bad to go into hoarder situations. With the reactions my body has to cats, there is no possible way for me to just "work around it". If I worked in a shelter, I'd probably come home with a dog every week and then Ax would have no place to sleep when he'd have shore duty or leave. LOL

So I guess my choices for a career are paralegal or figure out how to get into the VA industry to help vets with paperwork, applications, and whatnots. Paralegal sounds like more money in the bank, but a job with the VA means helping more people. I decided that I'm getting paralegal certification no matter what I end up doing, because I can't go the rest of my life without learning. I'm just too burned out right now to get back into it. Maybe this time next year I can start some classes or something--I'll need stuff to keep me busy when Ax is playing in the ocean in his tin can. :P


Until something else comes along, I'll just keep pokin' around at work helping whoever I can, and when the local Greyhound rescue gets a haul of retired racers, I'll head down to the kennel and welcome some adorable gentle giants to a new home. Hopefully I can help find them some forever homes too. :)