I Recommend Me Because I Rock

I’m in the process of writing my own letter of recommendation for Syracuse for me to then forward to my supervisor back home, which will be proofed and then forwarded to my sq commander for his signature.

i’m struggling a bit with this one; while we all know that i think i’m the best thing since even before sliced bread, i’ve always been of the opinion that a letter of recommendation is a declaration of faith of that person in you. I’ll write a kickass letter, and i’m going to sound amazing in it, but thats because i see the inside and can make me sound good. i’d rather have an opinion from the outside, from someone recognizing and acknowledging or not my ability to do XYZ.

as in, if they don’t think i’m capable, say so. i feel that the big boss back home doesn’t know anything about me or my work ethic – he became my boss about 10 days before i left; it’s not a knock on him, it’s just a fact that he’s never worked around me.

not to mention, in my whole 12 months at homestation i hadn’t released anything connected to a work order. our shop is required to put out 6 training videos a year + we have two editors = 3 for me, 3 for him. that pans out to a theoretical 6 weeks of work per video, which means maybe 20 weeks of work a year. total. since i’ve been there though, i haven’t actually done anything real. i’ve made a ton of posters, which i love doing. i’ve added a couple animations onto some copyrighted videos, edited some illegal shit out of pictures, and done a couple retirement videos. the “big” event of my twelve months there was syncing some footage off a couple cameras on some plane – yay me as an overachiever!

here’s the thing though, based on that last paragraph, i wouldn’t recommend me for shit. i’ve done nothing to prove, since being there, that i could handle a crazy workload at Syracuse. nothing, nothing, nothing. is there any wonder i fucking hate it there so much? i’m a workaholic, i love my job, i love what i do. that place makes me want to set myself on fire and run screaming down a road.

anyways, here i am, writing a letter to recommend me for something. i’m going to ask my boss here if he would write me one also because he’s seen me work, etc etc. he’s familiar with the program, and if he doesn’t think i could do it then i’ll take his word for it.

the categories i have to fill out:

Reliability

Initiative

Adaptability

Personal Appearance

Personal Conduct

Financial Responsibility

i need that outside view man… because half the time i don’t know that what i’m doing is being responsible or showing initiative or whatever.

gah.

and then, a really good friend of mine left today. I’ve got a couple left here, but it’s just not the same.

xx

For Better or for Worse,

I just swore to do 10 more pt tests, PCS 2 more times and deploy at least twice. When you look at it like that, 5 years really doesn’t sound that bad.

Oh, then i got verbal counseling from my supervisor back home because i didn’t tell her i was re-enlisting. see, before i left, i planned on re-enlisting. i volunteered for the deployment so that i could do it over it. i’m surprised that the fact that i did it is a shock to anyone at home.

if she’s offended as a friend, then she shouldn’t have cc’d my flight commander on an email chewing me out for breaching the chain of command. and maybe she could have tried emailing me occaisionally over the last 4 months to bullshit.

she pcs’s before i get back, and there’s no signature block on the form asking for supervisor approval, so i’m failing to see the problem.

there goes my warm fuzzies about being a grownup and making a good decision.

FYI,

I am the cultural advisor for the office because i am the one that is:

a) least likely to make racist comments about the enemy
b) not prone to violence
c) /was raised in a similar environment.

Classic case – my boss, [Pseudo] Major-Select, Fagdiznatch insists on calling this blog Man Pajamas, because ManjaManis is too difficult for his lil Alabama mind to grasp.

ManjaManis essentially means Sweet&Sassy, which is of course, the perfect description of yours truly.

Was it good for you?

apparently, I have one of the 8 sweetest gigs in the AF - military broadcaster.

and you know, for the most part i do love my job. i love knowing whats going on all over base, talking to everyone and being in the middle of it all.

and then i hate the responsibility that comes with having everyone know me. i have a higher standard to live to because the wing commander knows my name, and they tend to massacre their favorites who fuck up.

eh. it’s kinda neat that other people think my job is cool.

xx

I Qweeeeiiiiiiit

my current class is pretty dumb. i don’t like the teacher, my classmates never participate, it’s a fucking waste of time.

xx

“I can walk faster than this jog”

“Okay, then lets jog faster”

“i can’t go any faster”

oh.

00:43:52;48 for a shtupid Halloween 5K, my first timed running event ever. freaking sweet. if for any reason i decide to get into this running thing, i’m going to keep a patch from every shirt and make a quilt.

xx

BlissfulNeglect

My mother emailed me today, asked halfway through if i like to read still, mentioning how much i used to never seem to get tired of reading when i was 10.

i don’t even know why it still bothers me that after 23 years my parents know almost nothing about me… but every time they ask glaringly obvious questions like that, it slaps me. again.

especially considering i emailed her the picture of me reading while waiting at the doctors office, mentioning “this was me, waiting to be seen. reading, always, haha”

you, dear stranger, how would you take that statement? pretend you didn’t give birth to me, or live with me for 14 years – how would you interpret someone laughing about even reading at the doctors office?

seriously.

oh  and my little sister got married sometime within the last few days – i suppose i should thank her because now i don’t have to fly out to Seattle twice in the span of a few months for two sibling weddings. does this mean i have to get her a wedding present?

 

xx

Georgia on My Mind

Psych – it’s not Georgia, it’s babies. Little bouncing, drooling, spitting, pooping, powdered, sweet-smelling babies. Cute little things that ruin the vagina. Pretty little girls or boys that are expensive and adorable, that cancel date nights or pool games or drinking capabilities.

Obviously i’m a little torn on how i feel about reproducing.

On one hand, theoretically, it’s the ultimate manifestation of the love between two people. At the same time, chicks get pregnant during one night stands, sex with ex’s, moments of curiosity etc etc. Which cheapens the whole ‘ultimate manifestation’ thing.

The other hand – i think reproducing is the biggest expression of vanity a couple (one that gets pregnant on purpose anyways) can have. I’m guilty of it of course, i’ve totally wondered what my genes and somebody elses would come out like. In fact, whenever i meet a brilliant person it totally crosses my mind that maybe i should club them, drag them back to my cave and fuck the shit out of them until i’m brooding our amazing progeny. Survival of the fittest means that i want my offspring to be gawjus, smart, athletic and musically breathtaking.

this particular rant is based on the recent discovery that one of my very bestest friends from high school is pregant. dude, i still get a little jolt whenever i’m on facebook and notice that her name is changed now, how am i supposed to adjust to a baby? then it hit me that out of my circle of friends in highschool i’m one of two that isn’t passionately in love with their spouse and/or pregnant and/or already has a kid. i don’t know if the other girl really counts because the other girl has been dating the same guy since we graduated hs and i’m pretty sure they’re getting hitched whenever they finish grad school. Yeah, doesn’t count.

let me think — my longest stretch of a relationship was to…. um…. i think CT, the guy i was dating right before i joined the military. that lasted close to a year, and we only split up because it will be years and years and years before i ever even might possibly live near him again. 

i think the real issue isn’t that another girl under 25 is pregnant but that it makes me insecure. when did my friends grow up? how did i get left behind? i’m turning 24 next year and still an epic fail at so many things – so how are my peers possibly old enough to be nursing? man i still haven’t decided if theres any actual noticible difference in washing your clothes in warm vs cold water, and my friends are going over stuff likelikelikelike um putting together baby cribs. what the ef man!

 i’m just too selfish. i like expensive gadgets, being extremely drunk, and playing video games for hours. a kid just wouldn’t fit.

 

xx

Blue Black Buggies

it breaks my heart to realize that if this were a four month deployment my replacement would be here right now and i would be home soon.

fuck this stupid slump.

Classic