I can remember being baptized, fasting, leading worship services, Sunday school, praying for the sick and even translating for visiting pastors. Those are good memories, and I’m proud of those things, but I do ask myself now how much of it was done for me and because they were things I believed in versus acting the part of the missionary daughter.

When I moved back to America after I graduated high school I struggled to find a church that suited my heart. I looked and looked and finally stopped. In this country apparently being a Christian implies following the rules of your fellow church-goers; when I couldn’t conform to what they demanded, I was not welcome.

I joined the military next, and lived a life that was foreign to my upbringing. I have matured and grown as a person because of the thousands of difficult experiences I survived, and the unusual people I have met. My eyes were opened to the size of the world and the variety of its populace, and I learned repeatedly that I was young and knew absolutely nothing.

I finally feel that I am comfortable with myself and who I am and what I mean. I want to attend a Christian university because this time my faith is my choice. I no longer feel compelled to talk pretty and smile big to impress my parents congregation; finally when I pray it is between me and my God, and not a show.

Most of my life has been lived by the standards of the people above me. I am now the boss of me, and I am ready to be back in a wholesome Christian environment and continue to discover exactly what my faith means to me as a unique individual.

He said he was a dog lover so I introduced him to all our babies.
He started speaking some random language to them; I asked what it was, since he’s dark skinned and could possibly be some branch of Indian. Nope, it was a language his goddess gave him to communicate with dogs.

Later he was reading palms, and he told me that while I was currently in love, it wasn’t yet it. And that I’d missed the big IT.

Sorry lilith, but I’m not going to be surviving this one. That’s it.

When I was little I loved M2M, Michael Learns to Rock, Gil and the Moffatts.

And ohhhh boy how I loved the Moffatts. They were a set of triplets and an older brother from somewhere in Canada, big around the time Hanson was in the States.

Their last album came out in the late 90s, and wasn’t as bubblegummy as the first couple. There’s even a couple songs on there that I still like.

Example one (which has been stuck in my head today):

There’s no windows in this place
for me to show my weary face.
Rage I hold within my soul
at times I cannot control.
What’s the point of me being here?
When being me is what I fear.
Every day it’s all the same
trapped again in my own pain.
I cry myself to sleep
so many secrets I must keep.
No one to reach me…nobody cares.
Trapped in the middle of a distant stare.
I’ve prayed that I was free
of this grief that’s filling me.
Everywhere I turn
every bridge must burn.
There’s no windows in this place
for me to show my weary face.

// it is a beautiful acoustic-guitar-only track that I’m about to go scour YouTube for.

<3

wait, additional scandal, as a child he had a nickname. i know. i know. it’s too much to handle. Barry. sounds unAmerican to me too. yep.

my absolute favorite quote of the whole article,

 His nanny was an openly gay man who, in keeping with Indonesia’s relaxed attitudes toward homosexuality, carried on an affair with a local butcher, longtime residents said. The nanny later joined a group of transvestites called Fantastic Dolls, who, like the many transvestites who remain fixtures of Jakarta’s streetscape, entertained people by dancing and playing volleyball.

that, my darlings, is some amazing sleuthing skills right now. off with his head!

on the real though, i can’t remember any dancing bois or girls playing volleyball in the streets and i feel a little offended and left out. is it because i was a pale skinned American? i mean, i also went to local schools, ate local food, had a nanny (cis girl though, boring) and got in trouble with my neighbors constantly.

fml.

Growing up, my parents were (and still are) not fans of devil infused traditions. (jesusislorddammit!) so i remember going to a couple Hallelujah parties, which involved kids dressing up and there being tons of candy.. but i don’t remember doing it myself.

as a freshman in college wayyyy back in the day i got gussied up as a surfer once. i wore low slung board shorts and a bikini top and had obnoxious drunk boys coming up to me all night and asking if they could touch my boobies. i also remember kissing a boy dressed as Lil Wayne (black mop, tin foil teeth. don’t worry, he took the tinfoil off). he was 17 or something and keep begging me, as an older woman, to ‘teach him some stuff’.  if only he knew i was quite virginal myself… still cracks me up.

anyways. i’m not adverse to the idea, costumes are fun, free candy is great, etc etc, but since i’ve been in the military i just keep being gone and i’ve always needed a wingman to get dressed up like an idiot. last year i was in Afghanistan, the year before that i was drinkingdrinkingdrinking and didn’t go out anywhere, before that i had just arrived in Baltimore and didn’t know anyone…ummm.. i forget what happened in 2007, but in ’06 i was in boot camp, so it just wasn’t done.

so this year, my darlings, i dressed up as a knocked up chain smoking and drinking housewife. i wore a sweet flowery dress, slippers and long white socks, a blonde wig with curlers in it, and the coup de grace was my belly: a bunch of rolled up shirts tucked lovingly into a pillowcase and ace bandaged onto my belly. sexy. mmmmm. haha.

i picked up my friend Daniel, who was not in a costume, and we went to Walgreens to get some smokes and cash.( I grabbed Virginia Slims bc i think thats what housewives smoke. maybe?) he was joking around with the cashiers, and one of them asked me what i was gonna be for Halloween. um. she turned neon and giggled and said she didn’t realize, and omg she’s so sorry. (was she calling me fat? rude.)

at the door to my favorite bar in town, the ID checker didn’t recognize me. neither did my bartender. it was fucking awesome. i had so many random guys walk up and ask me what i was doing out of the kitchen, or to make them a sandwich, etc. i caught tons of dirty looks as i was drinking and smoking. pool game was wicked off, but i claimed it was bc i wasn’t able to lean against the table bc i was protecting my little one haha.

at one point in the night i went to go pee. turns out i had accidentally ace wrapped my jockeys to my hips, so when i was done i stood in front of the mirror and readjust my belly via my sweet buttons running down the front of the dress.

 a chick standing next to me leaned in and asked if i knew what i was having yet. i smirk and said it was a boy obviously, because my belly was so low. god she lit up, started talking about babies and sonograms and pediatricians and ob-gyns and her two sons. so i just keep sipping my rum and dr pepper and nodding along and mmmhmmmming every thing she was saying. finally, finally, finally she paused for breath and asked if it was my first child. i said, “you do know this is a costume, right?” she stammered that she saw me adjust my belly and it was skin toned. i said yeah, and showed her the ace bandage. she turned bright red and apologized, and took off running.

made my fucking night.

You do know this is a costume, right?

currently, i got nothing since i have To Be with You lyrics in my brain and i’ve already used that one.

my shop has been tdy for the last 1.5 weeks, and i’m struggling to find the motivation to push myself to complete the very easy task that they left me with. i just really really don’t wanna. i don’t even have the drive to play around in Photoshop… which is saying tons and tons.

i’ve ordered all my college transcripts and at least some of them have arrived at the school. i need to write my admissions essay, which is, Why I Want to go to a Christian University. Honestly, the faith aspect of it is a neutral point to me. i want to go there because it’s conveniently located, i can afford it, and they have a good program and great connections for graduates.  My NY’s resolution this year was to stop lying about things…so i have to figure out a way to sell myself so that they’ll want me. in 250 to 300 words. which dude, that is not enough to explain my convoluted ideas. just saying.

yes, i am a pottymouth and my head is all kinds of messed up, but overall i’m very teachable and i work hard at everything i do. (except for this week. not happening). i’ve been googling myself to make sure there’s nothing scandalous out there about me- this is the only thing that shows up. i like to think that it’s just a track record of some of my successes and frustrations, good days and bad days. not too bad. i hope? yeah hopefully. it’s awkward to be stuck by in that “oh, i hope they like me” phase. ick.

i’ve also been working and reworking my budget. not extremely easy since i’m just going off guestimations. my income will be my retirement pay from the AF and my housing allowance from the new GI Bill (both of which i have a definite number for) and my disability ratings from the VA. which i don’t know. i’m waiting for a form to arrive so that i can file my claim. i was told that if i file the claim while still on active duty the processing wait time is about 3 months, vs 8+ if i wait til after i get out. definitely trying to do that now.

anyways, i’m hoping that i can afford life without having to work. i’m a nerd and i like getting good grades, so ideally i won’t work at all. big reason why i want to stay here; life is cheap in this town. i lived in cool places the first 18 years of my life, i can wait a few more years before i get exotic again. i know this. per my budget and known income, i won’t have to work. i’ll won’t have a lot of extra money, but i’ll have enough to cover all my bills (which includes savings) and still have money for nonsense, which is good. i’m very used to living by a budget, however i’m also very accustomed to my current income level and it will take some time to get used to the decrease. however, i got this.

ew i’m rambling about boring stuff now. sorry kids.

so that’s that.

i’d been outside smoking (yes, as an asthmatic, i still smoke) and i’d been thinking about calling my contact and asking. i didn’t want to be annoying so i decided not to. walked back inside, logged on to my computer, and saw an email from her. lots of attachments. my mind started flickering and i couldn’t focus on anything; all that registered was the attachment that said “separation worksheet” and “please come see me”.

i forwarded everything to everyone that needed copies.

and then i just sat there, in shock.

 honestly i’ve thought this whole time that i’d be separated, but i didn’t believe that it could actually happen. i’ve worked so very, very hard over the last 5 years and it’s difficult to imagine doing anything else. not being a part of this system.

after a bit i collected myself, went to go tell my boss i had to run by the hospital, and started bawling. poor guy. then my CC walked in a wrapped me up in a hug, which i thought was very nice of him. my sobs were borderline hysterical by that point because whenever i’m upset and people are nice to me it always makes me want to cry that much harder. funny right?

<i wrote all that bit a week ago. much calmer now>

after my initial 48 hour freak out (stayed totally sober, yay me! i got this!) i realized….omfg i won’t be in the AF anymore. i get to be a college kid. only without the debt. omg. omg. omg.

so i’m applying to a school in town, for their graphic design major and hopefully i’ll get in. that starts on Jan 18th. My final day of work for the AF is 15 November if i’m not mistaken; which leaves me two months to dick around and be a bum. if i had tons of money saved up i would soooo go on a road trip and drive around being silly.  unfortunately i have a relative plethora of bills so that’s just not going to happen.

much as i’ve not loved living in this town, it is really cheap. the new 9/11 GIBill benefits will cover my tuition and rent and a couple of books even, then adding my disability pay it’s looking like i might not even have to work….which makes me so freaking happy. god.

i’m nervous about not having medical insurance. i’m worried that the VA will take a long time and i’ll be broke without an income. i’m scared that i’m too out of tune with being a fulltime student. and i’m very grateful for my extremely supportive friends who keep telling me i got this.

i totally got this.

and here’s my miniscule contribution: