On again.

I was Reading Eoin's Blog, so I decided to post here.

Work is over for the year:
on that note, I am glad. It got stressful towards the end, because with no management you can guess who got left with most of the work (it Should be obvious, because I'm complaining about it here, aren't I?)
Next year I'm planning on asking Mr. Jackson if he's going to be in more, because if he isn't then I'm bailing out and working mudcats, I can take a two dollar pay cut, being moved around and possibly having to work the beer stand as long as I'm part of a team and not having to pick up the other teen workers slack and then be told that 'they're the better workers in the big stand'. Someone knows how to shmooze the bosses brother, and I no longer have respect for the bosses brother on account of that. Like he knows who does their job better. He hadn't ever worked with me before more than once.
Then the Lemonade guy (also third party) says that I'm a good girl, and a Devoted worker no matter what ___ says. I didn't catch the name, bust that I was devoted and he knew it, and that someone apparently has been slandering me.
I don't even know if Mr. Jackson is going to want us on next year.
Oh well, it's not worth wasting my time over

School is in again, Homeschooling on top of Three College courses. It's easier than I thought it would be, but that's not saying much. It's still hard to get everything done. I'm having to fight to get my chore done after getting home from JCC.

Dad's 'officially "gone"' now. He's on Fort Bragg about an hour and a half away now. We're planning on meeting him in the Post Exchange on Friday to bring him all the things he forgot (he's keeping a list). That will be fun! I'm looking forward to that.
The Deployment Ceremony was extremely tedious.
Unfortunately the alarm clock didn't go off, and I was the first up at 6:45AM as opposed to the originally planned 6:00AM. So I wake Trillian up, and she goes into a rage, waking up the boys "GET UP! the Bloody Alarm Clock didn't go off! it's an hour past when I wanted you up, GET UP!" the boys weren't too keen on that, they're yelling at each other over Trillian.
I'm sitting on my hope Chest thinking "Jehova: it's to early for all the screaming..." Then I start getting dressed, I decided on the Scottish look, Black full length Skirt, silver shirt, Wilson Clan Tartan sash (So I could put it over my head if It started raining (it looked like it was going to at the time) or I could put it over my head if I started Bawling like I was fairly sure I would.
well, Half way through Polishing my boots Jeromy and JD are having a blazing row in the Hallway over JD's pants not being church pants and Jeromy was going all little momma on him.
"YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE DRESSED LIKE THAT! THOSE PANTS AREN'T CLEAN OR NICE ENOUGH!!!" JD then yells "I KNOW! I'M WEARING THESE SO I CAN (insert anything here, it was a good reason, but I can't remember it now.)!!!!" Jeromy them smacks JD and Screams at him that his pants aren't right and that he needs to fix it NOW.
well, I come out of my room all guns blazing, at this point I'm wearing the Skirt, and a tank top (Also known as an undershirt... you don't polish boots wearing a pastel silver shirt...) And Jeromy has the NERVE (or rather the Stupidity) to yell right back at me that I didn't know ANYTHING about what was going on and that I should be quite. I told him that I heard the whole thing and that if anyone was going to siddown and shuddup it would be him and if he didn't do so now I'd put him down in such a way that he wouldn't be getting up in a while.
He had a murderous look on his face for a while, but he sat down and shut up. I stomped back to my room muttering something about 'blazing twits' and finished dressing.
We were supposed to be at the 'Family Briefing' at 9am, but dad said we needed to be there at 8:30am (he had a margin for error, smart daddy!)
anyway, that means we needed to leave the house at 7:30. we got out of the house at 7:45, stopped by MacDonalds and got breakfast on the way.

We got there a little after 8:45.

Nana and Poppy met us at the church that the deployment Ceremony/family briefing was at.

We got in, grabbed a table, and waited for the "fun" to start. Well, the Family Briefing was long and Tedious. I went in that room with an Air of "Ok, WE can Do this, God knows what he's doing, and he's shown us that we can get through this with a blazing glory! Hooah! Here we go! Goodness I'm going to miss my daddy... But we can do this." THEN out of perhaps seven speakers only the Chaplain that is going with the 449th (That's the dudes Dad's going with) had anywhere even remotely near an encouraging set of information. Then the Tricare lady gets up there, and the other ladies and such... the Family Resource Program lady was going to make all the poor army wives paranoid. "Don't give your information out to just anyone, I would even suggest that you don't tell your best friends. you never know who to trust. For instance, if you meet one of your friends in Wal-mart and they ask how you're doing, they know that your Husband is gone, but now so do the three people behind you. So you tell them "Oh yeah, my husbands gone, he's going to be gone for a year now" then everyone behind you or on the next row knows that you're alone. Some may sympathize, but some may have other plans. it's not hard to follow you home, then they know where you live- and that you're alone. There are easy ways to guard against this: Don't talk about it if you don't have to, and be sure that you're in a secure place if you do, the Wal-Mart bathroom is not Secure. Make sure you lock and bolt all your doors at night, and the windows at your house. Move the cars in the driveway around, Trade a car with your friends for a while, that way you have a new car in your driveway. leave different lights on in the house at night, leave the TV on when you leave the house. Get a panic button installed on your car."
MY RESPONSE: "Who comes up with this junk? She's gone and made half the poor people in the room Paranoid now! Great, just what we need, and they were all resolved and ready to go and cope with it- now you're making them feel insecure and emotional again. Stupid woman. why don't you just tell them to hire a security guard for the year???"

Then the fun part: The Ceremony.
You spend the first three hours sitting getting the wits scared out of you, then you spend the second three hours getting your ear talked off by a bunch of Brigadier Generals who are talking about "Sacrificing all for your country".
at this point I've been trying not to cry since we got here, and now we're talking about people getting shot.
MY RESPONSE: "Whaddaheck is this idiot going on about?! They're going to the largest base in Iraq, it's roughly the size of Rhode Island. Come on you fool, this is the last place in the world that any of us want to be, shuddup and let the chaplain give his benediction, give them the blasted flag and let's go!"

THEN they finally shut up and get the Chaplain to Give the benediction, and then they give them the flag.
MY RESPONSE: "Oh good, thank you God it's over!"

-Then the Brigadier General stand up again. "The National Guard is deeply rooted in history, and ever since (some date, some place, some people, in some battle) we've always sung "God Bless the USA" so here's (some name that I didn't catch) to Sing "God bless the USA".
MY RESPONSE: "Oh *&@^#$!!!! What the H*** Were they thinking??!!?!?" *almost loose composure, manage not to bawl.*

Then the whole stupid affair was over, and the Men March out to deafening applause.

Then we went back outside in the windy 59*, rainy weather.
Then we get in the van and I start crying and Jeromy looks at me and Goes 'What's up??' I got at him with all the feminine Stress induced shouting I have. (poor kid, he meant well, but I'm afraid that I chewed him up one end and down the other in under thirty seconds...) then I tell them ALL to shut up and Pretend to be reading a magazine that I found in my seat while trying to to make the sounds to mack the crying I was doing.

We dropped daddy off with the rest of his dudes, and then we went home. I feel pathetic all the way home and for the rest of the night.
It didn't occur to me as to WHY I felt like vomiting until I sit down next to Nana and she notes that I was running a temperature.
MY RESPONSE: "oh, that's why I feel so pathetic. I've made myself sick again." I go find a thermometer, and sure enough, I'm running a temp of 102*

That about catches everything up.


...No, I take it back... Jeromy just Screamed "JARED!!!" At the top of his lungs...
Great. just when everything calmed down.