Second time around

So my husband and I are living in Europe for our second tour.    It’s pretty rare to get to come over here at all to begin with what, with all the cuts they are doing in the military but being able to come over here TWICE?    Yeah, that’s pretty damn awesome!

We came over here the first time a little over 8 months after we were married.   December of 2005.  I remember a lot of stress and work it took to get the house in order to move.   Mike had owned the house prior to our marriage with his ex wife and when THEY bought it, it was a fixer-upper.    He bought it with good intentions of taking the house that used to be a rental (aka: outdated, beat to shit house) and fix it up slowly over time.  However other things distracted him from doing that and in the end it only took about 15,000 to fix it up allowing him to sell the house and make a helluva profit.   While the renovations were going on for the house we moved into a hotel with our animals in tow and stayed there until we arranged our flight to Germany.  We touched down at Frankfurt AM on December 23rd and staggered off our flight all jetlagged and woozy.   We were appointed a sponsor that helped us with our lodging and such who met us at the airport, as well as Mike’s new boss.   I barely remember pushing my small handtruck full of animal crates (One dog, three cats) through the airport as Mike and our sponsor handled the luggage.   One thing I had taken on board the plane with me was the top tier of our wedding cake.  Intent on keeping the tradition of eating the cake on our one year anniversary for luck I snuck it in my carry on for the long, unrefrigerated flight from Seattle to Germany.   When we arrived at the airport Mike’s boss asked if she could help carry anything.  I handed her my bag with the cake inside which she promptly dropped onto the floor.     In the long trip the cake had been squished in the bag it was in and I’m sure it looked horrid but it was our wedding cake!   Mike’s boss just looked at it like “Oh.. eww”.    As time went on Mike really developed a dislike for that woman.   Funny thing is,  when it was our time to return to the states they held a little farewell brunch for Mike and I reminded her of the wedding cake snafu.   We still held our tradition on our one year wedding anniversary but the cake was unrecogizable and tasted pretty terrible.  I’m proud though that I stuck to it,  splatted on the floor of Frankfurt AM and all!

As we settled in to our temporary lodging in Leimen, Germany I was full on intent on living life out there to the fullest.  I wanted to see, do and experience everything!   The first few days we were there some people from Mike’s work invited us on an outing to France.   A DAY trip to France?!  HELL YES!   I told Mike to let them know we’d be happy to!  Mike however,  pooped out and as much as I begged him to go I ended up spending the day with complete strangers (nice ones though) visiting a small town called Alsace.  It was fun, but I wished Mike would have joined us.    Even now I hope we can go back there someday together so we can say we did it.

 

We rented a house in a little village about an hour from where both Mike and I  worked and about 40 minutes from any American facilities.   So once we both had worked a full week we didn’t feel like making a long trip anywhere and opted to stay at home.   There were quite a few months were we would opt to stay home instead of exploring where we lived.

 

I got a job on post as a Veterinary technician in Mannheim and became quick friends with the receptionist there named Lindsay.   We both were new at working amongst the military so it was nice to not be the only ‘newbie’ there.  Our boss,  a Captain was pretty nice and showed me what I needed to do,  she was happy I had experience and so I was given quite a bit of responsiblity right off the bat.    She kept warning us though, that working the vet clinic was her THIRD priority so we would be dealing with a lot of annoyed people at times.   Along with her veterinary work she also was responsible for the well being of the Military Working dogs (1st priority),  the food inspection in all the commissaries, eating establishments and shoppettes (2nd priority) THEN the Vet clinic for the public.   Things were pretty unstable there for a while (I hated telling people no)   that is,  until I met Larry.

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Ups and downs

How long does it take for somebody to truly overcome depression?     I mean, really truly overcome it?   A part of me thinks I’ll always harbor some sort of it no matter what happens in my life.  Reason being, it’s something you deal with, not cure.    There’s a commercial for an antidepressant I saw when we lived in Missouri that describes it perfectly. ( Edit:  Found it on youtube!  Link here  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tGymr78FtbU )

Now,  notice how even though the cartoon is taking ‘Abilify’  that the dark little cloud of depression is still with her even at the end of the commercial?    That’s how I feel,  I manage most days now, but every now and then I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me and I can’t function.   I think I need to focus more on dealing with it rather than getting rid of it altogether.   Before I moved from Missouri a very bad job experience lead me to seek counseling.    She was helpful and just before I stopped going to her she touched on the subject that I was dealing with a severe abandonment issue that happened at some point in my life.   Looking back at things, I know I blocked some awful events from my childhood so I wouldn’t have to deal with them.    I think I’ll write a little bit about that in my next blog.

Friday thoughts

Ugh… been feeling really shaky most of the day.   It could be I downed a soda (which I have sworn off since discovering “Apfelschorle”, an apple juice spritzer drink that is as addictive as it is delicious).   If that’s the reason then, it’s all my fault.   I also had an awful case of insomnia last night which had me up mindlessly playing Zynga’s “Slingo” until 4am or so.  Insomnia doesn’t hit me very often but when it does it’s not kind.   I’ve been trying to work on improvements for my life,  stuff I’ve let sit dormant in the back of my mind for the longest time.    I have all these goals now but it’s the getting motivated part i’m having a hard time with

In May of last year my sister passed away suddenly and much of the world I knew came crashing down with it.   Now, it’s not that I’m not happy with my husband.  I AM! VERY!   He is my world.  Someone i never thought i’d find after the kind of crazy life I had lived.  I am blindly happy with him, it’s just that my sister was my last grip on the family I had always known as mine.   Our mom passed away in March of 1998 and before that happened my sister Cindi and I had some pretty severe sibling rivalry conflicts.  She thought mom loved me better than her because I was the baby.   We rarely talked except when I phoned home to talk to mom and mostly it was “Hi, how are you? Oh.. is mom there?”  As our mom wasted away from lung and brain cancer,  Cindi took care of her until hospice came to take her away.   Once she passed,  Cindi and I bonded more than we ever had.   We had conversations we should have had all along, planned things we would do once I visited and leaned on each other when we were going through tough times, or just missed mom.

Then she was gone.

I miss our phone calls.   She would always call and ask me how I was doing.   When my husband and I would go on trips or experience something interesting or fun I would share it with her and she would hang on every word.   She called it living vicariously through me,  and for that i wanted to live life as interesting as possible so I could share it with her.   But then her,  my muse was gone..  and I’ve been trying to find myself ever since.

I do have a small group of friends who really kept me together through this whole ordeal and for that I love them all with all my heart.   When something tragic like this happens you really get to know who your real friends are.   I know while I’m still trying to regroup my priorities those people will still be in my life ready to lend a shoulder or an ear.    I had one ‘friend’ who after a really stupid misunderstanding told me “I tried to be supportive of you when your sister died but it proved to just be a waste of my time”.    Needless to say that bitch has NO idea what it’s like to lose someone so close to you and even though I know you are supposed to be forgiving in life I have no sympathy for that person.   That’s the worst thing you can say to someone.   “I wasted my time being your friend when you needed one the most”.    yeah,   good luck in life. Bitch.

I really love blogging again!   Just had to say that.   I have a feeling once I get a lot of my thoughts sorted out this will be very therapeutic.    That’s definately an improvement! 🙂

RIP the “Family table”?

Im I the only one that feels this way?

 

When I was younger I had a HUGE family.   Grandparents, aunts, uncles, half siblings, etc etc etc.  Holiday get together were large, extravagent and memorable.   We baked cookies every Christmas, had people come over for garage sales, fourth of july parties, etc etc.   Heck, my half sister was even married in our backyard in a large event where I can’t even believe our house held that many people.

 

Now that I’m older though, I am in touch with only a small handul of my ‘family’.   Many have passed away or simply faded out of my life.  It’s sad too because I miss those days a lot, even though as a kid I didn’t think much of the effort it must have put my parents through to throw such events. I just expected them to happen each and every holiday…      What happened? 

 

Someday I’ll get into my siblings, family life and such,  but I just wanted to post this before falling asleep because it was on my mind.   Do people still value true family time like they did back in the old days?  The days before sports were on 98 channels, cellphones, texting,  and the internet was invented?   The days where you were comfortable sitting in a chair in the living room of your house watching your niece play with a newly unwrapped Christmas toy or eating dinner with your family chatting about one anothers’ lives and not wonder in the back of your mind what Octomom was doing next  to get out of debt or what crazy shinanagins were going on in a reality tv show?

 

Call me nostalgic but I miss those days.  A lot!

My FIRST real attempt at employment

When you’re 14 mostly all you can think about is hanging out with friends, going to the mall and buying cool things.  I had two best friends in the 7th grade,  Denise and Jennifer.   Both were friends before i met them and I just joined their group.   We did everything together, including mischief.

Denise’s older sister worked at a nearby Insurance company.  I think she was a secretary or something.  She was asked if she knew of anybody willing to sit in the office after hours and make telephone calls (aka the dreaded TELEMARKETER job) and make a few bucks an hour.    She enlisted Denise, Jennifer and me and we showed up for ‘work’.

Our ‘workstation’ was we each had a desk in an individual office with a phone.    We were given a list of people to call with a script.  I can’t even remember the things we were supposed to say to the people we called but i know we had to repeat their property address back to them while we were doing our schpiel.  Nowadays that would trigger a huge red flag for anybody hearing that.   Stalker! stalker!   At that job we did anything but work.  I hate to say every dollar we were given was not earned.   Many of the people we called were pleasant but declined our offer,  a few people scolded us for calling during their ‘stories’  and a small handful of people would scream, yell and hang up.   It was those people, our 14 year minds would spring into action and write the numbers down later for prank calling.  I think we maybe made about 10 ‘success’ calls between the 3 of us before we decided telemarketing wasn’t our bag.    Funny thing is, my friend’s sister went on to become a successful Insurance agent with the same company.   I’m glad the antics of her little sister and two friends didn’t ruin that chance!

Arranging the jumble of thoughts and my SECOND job

edit:  while I was just thinking I remembered that I had a small job before this vet clinic experience that I want to share too,  reason being looking back on it gives me a good laugh.. 🙂   therefore when you’re done reading this proceed to the next entry

 

Ok, looking back on my last post I could tell my mind was going a million miles a minute trying to put as much out into text as possible.   I’m assuming it’s because I haven’t written in a while, so hopefully this will not be as confusing the more I do this.  I used to have a livejournal account where I could blog pretty much nightly of my experiences working at the 24 hour emergency vet.   It was awesome,  and I didn’t ramble.   Like i said.. all in good time 🙂

Yes, I’ve worked at an emergency vet.  In fact I’ve been in the veterinary field for.. *pause for thought of how frigging OLD this makes me* but 24 years.  Got my first start walking into a local vet for an interview with a black  corduroy trenchcoat, black boots and rebellious attitude.    Why he hired me I have no idea,  but there was something he liked about me because he hired me pretty much on the spot.

Dr Smith (yes, that was his name, not an alias) inherited the practice from his father and was one of the well known vets in the area.   He was an veterinary opthamologist so my first real task as a vet ‘assistant’ was to stand in surgery while he did cataract removal surgeries.   It was the coolest thing i had ever seen!   Slowly I was trained in other fields and he was patient and understanding when I asked question after question.  Being a teenager I still did irresponsible things like party too late and go into work half asleep.  More than once I would sneak into the xray developing room and take a nap.   Still,  even though back then I thought Dr Smith hadn’t caught onto to my trickery I know now he knew damn well what I was doing, but he kept me in line.  Maybe to him I was a project?    One day a lady brought 2 cats into the clinic for ‘euthanasia’.   Now, only recently I had learned what that word meant and it wasn’t as pretty and exotic as it sounded.   I asked my boss why she wanted her cats killed.  He explained to me she couldn’t keep them anymore and they were peeing in her house.  I don’t clearly remember what I did next but somehow those cats disappeared from the cages they were in  I ended up at my house lugging two heavy cat carriers ready to hide these cats in my mom’s garage.   When my mom asked me what the hell I was doing I told her what had happened and she wasn’t sure how to react.   Eventually my boss came to my house and took the cats back.  I don’t know if he ended up putting them to sleep or not but I think he kind of respected me for going on a crusade to save these 2 cats what in my mind didn’t deserve this death sentence.  What ever it was he had a lot of patience with me.   Sadly though,  as i was working there and while he taught me the basics of what would eventually blossom into a full career for me he fought his demons of his private life.  Married to an Iraqi woman named “Shala” who only cared about shoes, shopping and status she would come into the clinic with their two  kids in tow asking for more ‘Moneeeeeee”.    None of the staff said much, but we all dispised that woman.   Then, shortly after Christmas one year Dr Smith set up a ‘workout’ room in one of the storage rooms in the clinic.   He claimed he would go in early to get a workout before opening up for the day.   Then a shower was built in the bathroom closest to his office.   It became apparant that his home life had become unbearable and he was living at the clinic, but still nobody.. not even the receptionist who had worked for his father before him said nothing.

I left there to persue something different about 2-3 years later and went to work for a non appointment vet clinic.   Later on I learned that the receptionist had showed up for work one day to find Dr Smith laying on an exam table back in the treatment room.  He had put a catheter into his arm and had a bag of fluids spiked with the pink euthanasia solution running into it.   On his chest was a note scribbled in his handwriting “If anybody asks, I had a heart attack”.       Dr Smith left behind a son, Bruce Jr and a daughter Gillian.  I have no idea if they knew the truth behind how their father died or how they are even doing today.   It angers me though that he left his kids behind to deal with the loss of their father in such an abrupt way, fictional heart attack or not.

Even to this day I have talked to people from my home town that fondly remembers Dr Smith and a comment is made like “that heart attack took him too young!”  I bite my tongue letting them think that,  it’s better that way.

Therapy?

Several years back I used writing as a sort of ‘getaway’ from the real world.   It started back in my early teens when someone introduced me to “Dragon Quest”  (a similar game like Dungeons and Dragons,  what the difference is though I have no idea)  The guy who ruined the best years of my youth (I would call him my X but I don’t feel he is even worthy of calling him that,  X’s can have the potential of being your friend even after your failure at trying at being a couple).   However this person I am talking about, and I’m sure I’ll mention him quite a bit in this blog somewhere deserves simply the title of the guy who ruined the best years of my youth.   Period.   I’m sure if any of you stick around to read about him too, you may agree with me… but anyways, back to writing.
I was brought into the Dragon Quest circle by my gwrtbyomy’s friends.  His father who worked for TRW had some co workers who wanted to score brownie points by schmoozing their boss’s kid.   Of course gwrtbyomy was too stupid to see that.   He thought being a 17 year old kid that a bunch of 30 and 40 somethings really thought he was cool to hang out with (lol).   I tagged along because I didn’t like being home with my mom.   We weren’t getting along and this boyfriend I had was the perfect ‘bad boy’ I needed to envelope myself in.   Why do girls tend to get attracted to the assholes?    yeah…  that’s a mystery of the ages right there.   But anyways, back to WRITING!
I loved the storytelling you could do by playing that game.  It was like you could write your own experiences and play them out just the way you wanted to.   I made up a character, my first one by myself.   Her name was Hayloh.  A shapeshifter tiger who was hot as hell.   I would play that character on game night and come up with neat little side stories about her, her family, etc etc.    wierd thing was, I never told anybody about anything more than what was supposed to be revealed on game night.   All this really cool back story stayed tucked in the back of the folder I carried into game every night, but nobody ever knew how awesome she really was.  Eventually the brown-nosing employees grew weary of having two teenagers hanging out with them on game night and we stopped going.
The years went by and the computer age was getting more and more popular.   Certain events caused me to acquire a settlement and I purchased my first computer.  It was in 1997,  then that September I believe a new type of online roleplaying game was being released called Ultima Online and I rushed out to get it.  The handbook for the game was hundreds of pages long and it absolutely sucked me in!

All the potential for being creative and once again escaping the real world if even for a short time was intoxicating.  The worthless gwrtbyomy also wanted to play the game too,  but he played female characters because he felt it was easy to scam items from other male players in the game..  since it was totally interactive you could meet people in virtual ‘world’.  Dumbass.   Years later after I kicked him to the curb I told the few people he had interacted with who HE really was.   It’s funny to think he was one of the first online harlots.. 🙂  but that was his talent all along,  lies and deception.
Fast forward to about 1998,  I was still playing UO and had kicked the loser to the curb.    I had made quite a few friends as a result of that game and a  lot of them knew what I was going through.   I moved into a house with 2 of my friends Nick and Tasha who were renting the house from Nick’s father.  It was perfect!   A house way out in the middle of nowhere in Meadow Vista, California.   We all played UO and partied.   I started my creative writing again helping people in that game with quests and storylines.  One of the people I helped turned out to be the man I’m married to today.   He liked my creativity and we started talking a lot about our likes and dislikes.   He also had a knack for writing so it was inspiring to have someone there when I was on that ‘getaway’ from the real world.   Here and there we had written some things together but over time I burned out on that side of my persona.    It wasn’t until recently that I felt that urge to get it back.    Writing to me helps get out all these feelings I keep in because I don’t think i could get anybody to sit long enough to hear all of what I have to say..

and if anybody does stick around to read my blogs.. thank you 🙂