Sparrowrunner

Movers will be here next Friday. I have a little pile in the corner of the living room that’s coming with me.  Action figures are a necessity, aren’t they?  No one puts She-ra in a box.

All of that plus uniforms. I have to stay in my apartment after they pack up all my stuff for at least five more days.  As long as my laptop lasts and I have a fluffy pillow,I will be alright.

And happiness.  Sometime soon, I need to realize this part of starting over at a new base is exciting. Though it is busy moving out and moving in, I need to remember to be happy.  Joe is going to be there. And I am going to see his face all the time.  I won’t have to microwave things because he can cook.  He is my Mexican Marlon Brando.

Morbid Life Issues

I have been working on my advanced care directive and will.  I love it when you call people and ask them if they are willing to do stuff, and they say, oh nothing will ever happen to you.

But…death is inevitable. Yes, I want to live a long and happy life.  But I also want to make sure I am not leaving a big mess (pardon my analogy) for people to clean up after I am gone.

Once this is accomplished, I will never talk about it again.  But just for this one time, right now, I want to get my stuff together.

(If Mesa is reading this, I am not referring to you in the first paragraph.) Love you.

Inappropriate Topics At Work

Your bikini wax process (not from me).

Two Cents

Though I commend Angelina Jolie on her decision which was made public yesterday, I do believe it is a slap in the face for most middle class citizens who can’t afford the 4000.00 genetic tests that most insurance companies don’t pay for. They may not even cover preventative surgeries such as a double mastectomy without some high amount of hereditary risk.

So great on making people aware they need to be more proactive with their health, but dang, provide me better healthcare or make it cheaper.

My mom was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer at 35 and dead by 38.

Had my last therapy session today.  I went to this guy for over a year and a half.  It was real hard to say goodbye today.  It wasn’t necessarily my choice to end our sessions, more like the Air Force’s since I leave in a couple of weeks.

I have some tools in my toolbox, and I will think long and hard about starting things back up with a new therapist at my next duty station.  Not everyone is like the man I spent a year and a half with.

I think I cried a little walking out of his office.  You just develop a trust and establish a safe place for yourself over time. And I was able to open myself up, laugh and cry and be wacky without judgment and without fear.  Not every place is like that, and not everyone can be accepting.

I don’t want to be pitying myself; I just wanted to let you know I am struggling somewhat.  So many women at my workplace talk about eating this and eating that.  One has lost a considerable amount of weight and it is still not enough for her.  She jokes that she wants to be able to put her hands fully around her waist.

Me?  I just want to feel sexy again.  Joe thinks I am.  But I know when I am at my best.  I haven’t ran since my pt test a couple of weeks ago.  And I have been binge eating.  It feels good to admit, even if it is publicly.

I can’t talk about my struggles at work.  I just want to let you know I want to do this.  I want to be better. I want to do better.

Joe got the job in Kansas City, so he will definitely be coming with me to Whiteman Air Force Base. I am thankful.  Headed out of Ft Leonard Wood May 31st, and I am so happy to get away from this Army post.  I miss my Air Force people.  I may even kiss the ground when I get there.

Whiteman has a great mission, and the B-2s are there.

And did I mention Joe will be there too?  I have never had anyone uproot their life for me.  I can tell you a truth; I have never been loved by people around me (besides my sister).  I was always tolerated.  It took me awhile to recognize what love was, and how Joe truly does love me.

It bothers me how women are critical of other women based on individual standards.  I am not my weight. I am not my looks. 

And thin doesn’t equal beautiful.  There is an article going around about how a cheerleader was called “chunky.”  I find this disturbing among our culture of women.  It isn’t men being critical of us; it is that woman sitting next to us.

http://www.wnd.com/2013/04/cbs-blogger-under-fire-over-chunky-cheerleader/?cat_orig=diversions

Have I told you lately that I love you?  Have I told you there’s no one else above you?  You fill my heart with gladness and take away all my sadness.  Ease my troubles that’s what you do.

Totally my words and only mine.  They are genuine.  No, Rod Stewart sang them. But it truly is the way I feel when I come on here and I read everyone’s posts.  You all have days like my days.  You all want ice cream…sometimes.  You all get angry, happy, sad, and motivated.  And it is great through this virtual experience, I get to share in your world.  Thank you.

I’m trying real hard not to be a disagreeable person, but having to explain to people why I don’t want a going away is really getting old.

After four years of being here, I truly wish one of my wishes could be respected.  I am a private person.  I do my job, and I go home and do my own thing.  Yes, I understand the Air Force is a 24/7 job, but just once, one freaking time, I wish I could be granted what I truly want.  I want to leave and say goodbye.  I don’t need food or a big group of people who don’t really know me and who in the past four years haven’t even taken the time to get to know me to wish me good luck.  I just want to get in my car and go up the road and move forward.

It’s like my own thoughts don’t count even though this going away has to completely do with me.  In my mind, I would stand up there at this forced event and say, “Well, I didn’t want this, so goodbye” and then just walk out.