No More Lake Fun for My Dogs

For the past two and a half years, we’ve taken our dogs to the lake on post pretty frequently. I go in the middle of the day on weekdays and there’s never anyone else around. In the very rare event that I see someone else in our spot, we go somewhere else.

The dogs love it because they can swim and run crazy. I love it because it’s a good place to work on off leash recall since it’s a clearing with nowhere for them to run off to and it’s far from the road.

Yesterday — for the first time in 2.5 years — one of the official lake people pulled up in his truck into our area. Shecky instantly ran to my side and sat, Bones ran up to the side of the truck and barked twice. I walked over as I called her to come, she ran back to me, and I picked up her leash.

The guy looked at me and said, “Has anyone told you your dogs have to be leashed out here?”

I said, “Oh no, I didn’t know that actually. We just bring them out here to run.”

He said, “Well, unless you have them under voice control.” Then he looked at Bones and said, “Can you sit? Sit.”

Bones just looked at him, so I gave her the hand signal and said, “Sit.” She sat.

Then the guy looked at Shecky and told her to sit. She didn’t sit. She looked at me and backed up instead. I gave her the hand signal and she sat.

Then the guy said, “Well, I guess your cover’s blown.”

What? Because she responded to a hand signal from her owner instead of a voice command from a stranger?

But we’d already been there for a while anyway and I didn’t feel like arguing with a moron, so I said, “Ok puppies, time to go home.”

I was still holding Bones’ leash, but she turned and started walking toward the car. Shecky – still unleashed – immediately went and sat by the passenger side of the car, waiting for me to open it so she could get in.

Yeah, too bad I don’t have my dogs under voice control. Idiot.

I Might Be a Terrible Person

Things are looking up around here! We have orders up to DC. I’ve started applying for jobs up there and with all my connections and education, I’m sure I’ll find something (eventually). Having a job should make it easier to *finally* get picked up by the Navy Reserve. I’m already in touch with a recruiter up there who is way more on top of stuff than my recruiter down here (who forgot to inform me about the upcoming board until it was too late for me to put in for it). It finally seems like stuff will work out and I can start preparing my happy dance!

But Chris came home from work the other day and announced that he had a new plan since STA-21 is apparently continuing on its path of only taking one person for his community each year. He’s going to finish up his degree — which won’t take very long since he’s only a class or two short — and put in for OCS instead.

This shouldn’t bother me at all. He’s been talking about commissioning for two years now, and I’ve always accepted that he will be an officer someday since I have no doubt that he will be picked up. It’s probably petty of me — ok, it’s definitely petty of me — but I guess this bothers me because OCS was my thing. My thing that I never finished, but he will. It’s frustrating to be reminded of all the ways I’ve effectively sabotaged my career before it even started while his has been happily and steadily progressing for the past two years. And it’s all the more frustrating because he’s doing things that I wanted to do. Things that I was SUPPOSED to do.

I wish that our goals weren’t quite so similar, so it wouldn’t sting quite as much when he achieves something and I’m still just at home baking cookies for him to take to work. Not that I blame him for any of this. He didn’t ask me to drop from OCS and of course his career is going to move forward in 2.5 years — he works hard and he deserves it. I’m proud of him for that and for all the things he’s trying to accomplish.

OCS Graduation (via OTCN website)

But I’m fairly certain that if I’m still only a civilian when I have to go to Newport to watch him commission, I will probably be bawling the whole time.

Does that make me a terrible person?

Sleepless Nights

Whenever Chris is gone, my sleep schedule changes completely. I can’t explain it. When he’s home, I go to sleep around 10 or 11. When he’s gone, I go to sleep at midnight or 1… or 1:30.

Last night was a 1:30 night. I just wasn’t tired.

And then Bones woke me up to be let out at 2:30.

Shecky got me up at 3 to go out.

I woke up because Bones was gagging at 4 and I was afraid she was going to throw up on my bed.

At 5, my neighbor’s garage door woke me up when he was leaving for PT.

Woke up to howling and screeching (animal, not human) from the woods behind my house at 5:30. Then spent 10 minutes calming down the dogs.

7:00 moving truck pulls up across the street and starts slamming things around and I gave up and got out of bed.

Today, I have to finish up work for my online class, drop off Chris’s whites at the dry cleaners, swing by the MTF to pick up some paperwork, clean up the living room and kitchen, take the dogs for a long walk, and P90X with my workout buddy. I hope I can stay awake for all of that… and I think tonight might end up being a 9 o clock night.

P.S. Does anyone else look at their clock every time they wake up in the middle of the night?

The One Where I Reconsider the Navy

As soon as I was released from Active Duty, I started trying to get into the Reserve, which I was told would essentially be a matter of signing a paper and ta-da Reserve! False. Completely false.

There have been three boards since that time. I was not selected at the first. The second board in September 2010 I was originally told I was eligible for, until they actually looked at the my application and realized that it had not been six months since my last rejection and I did not have significant improvements (read: higher GPA or ASTB scores or new job experience) to my package. But my recruiter told me not to worry – there was another board the next March! And I would be completely eligible for it!

Yeah, I would be except for a series of screw ups by my recruiter. First, I got a call from the head recruiter at the office telling me that the deadline was approaching, my kit was missing information and my recruiter was on leave. I had emailed him the information a week and a half before. Ugh. But I dutifully forwarded the information on and called to let her know. During that call, she asked if I had been working on another set of paperwork we needed and I replied that I had no idea what paperwork she was talking about. She told me that was odd because she had asked my recruiter and he had specifically told her that I was working on getting it completed. Um, yeah, except that was a total lie. So we were scrambling to figure out what I could do since it was a key part of the kit and then I remembered I had completed the form previously and still had a copy filed away. I faxed it to her, she told me that was acceptable, and we were golden again.

Until I got a phone call from my recruiter that afternoon telling me that he was SO SO SORRY but he had just realized that I had a RE-3 code and regs had changed since my last Reserve application and I now require a waiver to get in. A waiver that, by his words, is not hard to obtain but we just didn’t have the time to do it for this app. Nevermind that they’ve had a copy of my DD214 since last AUGUST and he’s been working on my kit since DECEMBER. Seriously, yesterday was the first time he looked at my RE code? WTF.

But no worries, because the next board is in June and we can start working on getting the waiver immediately! (At least theoretically, since last year they decided to cancel the June board.) And that’s just enough time for my MEPS physical to expire and require another trip to MEPS for me. I’ve also been told (although I’m not completely 100% on this) that a health waiver only lasts as long as the MEPS physical – if that’s true, then I’ll also need to jump through all the hoops again to get another waiver for asthma. Since my recruiter friends are all absolutely shocked that I got one of those in the first place, I’m not so sure that I’ll even be able to get a second one. Maybe it’s not true though… because if I were in the Navy, I certainly wouldn’t have to rewaivered every few years.

Yep, so I’ve gone from needing no waivers to needing two. Isn’t that just dandy?

I previously said that this board would be my last try because (1) I don’t feel like jumping through hoops over and over to prove myself to the Navy and (2) I didn’t want to deal with having to go to MEPS again. I understand the Navy might question my commitment or think I’m looking for an easier path to a commission, but how many times are they going to make me go through this before they decide I’m not? I will give them one more chance, because even though this will technically be my fourth try, it will really only be my second time up at board.

If this attempt goes horribly horribly wrong or if it goes completely right and they just decide not to select me again, that’s it. I’m done. I know that I’m qualified. I know that I have a great education, relevant work experience, languages, and assorted other things that make me an attractive candidate, and if they tell me I’m not good enough again, I’m just going to say screw you and give up.

There are plenty of other jobs that want me and I can serve my country just as easily as a civilian as I could in the military. But I still wish that I had originally chosen to go Reserve instead of Active Duty and not turned down my job offer when I graduated. I would just about be a LTJG now and I would be a GS-11 or 12. Instead I’m nothing.

Fantastic.

The Yellow

It’s slowly been warming up here, and I’ve been dreading the return of the yellow. Today, I looked at my weather forecast and saw my fears confirmed.

What is the yellow, you ask? This:

[Can you see the clouds behind the billboards? Those are CLOUDS OF POLLEN.]

It’s a terrible time. It wreaks havoc on allergies (mine AND Shecky’s!) and NOTHING can get clean. You have to keep your windows closed, take off your shoes before you enter your house, and vacuum every day — and the dirt container in your vacuum will be yelllow! Your deck, your sidewalk, the streets, the puddles, and your car will all be covered in a layer of yellow dust. And no matter how often you clean it, it will be back in under 10 minutes.

Lucky us, it’s coming early this year! But the peak still isn’t expected until March or April. Oh joy.

Stereotypes & Generalizations

I’m from California, but I don’t know how to surf or skateboard.
I went to Stanford, but I’m not ugly.*
I’m Catholic, but I’m in favor of gay marriage.
I’m female, but I’m pro-life.
I’m a Republican, but I was vegan for a year.

See how much you would be off if you started assuming things about me?

Some stereotypes really annoy me. Ok, most stereotypes annoy me. One of the ones that annoys me the most, however, is the idea that being an enlisted Soldier/ Sailor/ Marine/ Airman makes you somehow less worthy than an officer. Another is that being the spouse of an enlisted person somehow makes you less intelligent/ mature/ worthy than an officer’s wife.

I’ve read a couple things over the past few days that seem to be promoting this idea and it annoys me.

When I first started dating Chris, the husband of a friend commented on the fact that Chris was “just” enlisted and not an officer. Well, guess what? I didn’t check to make sure he had bars when I met him. I didn’t care that he had a crow instead of an eagle. I fell in love with him because of his goofy personality. Yes, that’s right: his personality.

And just as I was able to look beyond his rate and evaluate him on his own merits, I ask that others do the same for me. If you want to criticize someone, criticize that person. Don’t draw conclusions about the groups that person identifies with. Generalizations reflect badly on you.

Yes, I am married to an enlisted sailor. All that you should draw from that is that my husband serves in the Navy. It says nothing about my career choices, my maturity, the number of kids we have, our lifestyle, my intelligence, or my capacity to respect Chris’s career and the Navy.

If/when Chris eventually becomes an officer, I’ll become an officer’s wife. But nothing about me personally will have changed. I’ll have the same friends, I’ll make the same jokes, and I’ll have the same opinions. Likewise, Chris will be the same person. There isn’t some magical marker that differentiates people who enlist and people who become officers. Just because a person has chosen to enlist doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the same intellect/morality/maturity as someone who has been given a commission. Those things are determined by personality, not by rank.

And definitely not by a spouse’s rank.

*There’s a saying: 9 out of 10 girls in California are hot. The 10th one goes to Stanford.

My Neighbor is Psychotic

If you follow me on Twitter, you’ll know that I had an unpleasant run-in with one of my neighbors yesterday. Warning: This is really long. If you make it to the end, you get a cookie.

I was sitting in the living when I heard my front door open… I have no idea how. Maybe it was a little windy and blew open or something, but I know that it had been closed. I got up because I knew the dogs were right by the door, and sure enough I could see them running out the door. I peeked out to see where they were going, and a neighbor driving by slowed down, looked at me like he was going to offer to help, but then kept going. Yeah, don’t worry… my two dogs got out, but I’ve got it under control. My neighbors are jerks.

I know that training your dogs not to run out of the door and to come when you call them is important. And we’re working on it. Shecky will usually come, but Bones won’t. Unless she sees you have a hot dog in your hand.

So I ran back into the house to grab their leashes and a hot dog. As I was walking back out the door, Shecky sprinted back through the door, ran right past by me (and the hot dog in my hand… VERY unusual), and went into her kennel. Bones was sitting on our lawn (also very unusual. She usually runs circles around my house when she gets out) and came right over to me and let me grab her collar (also unusual). All in all they were probably gone about 2 minutes.

I put Bones in her kennel and continued getting ready to go to Target. As I backed out of the driveway, I saw that there was a big truck parked in the street blocking me so I couldn’t go forward. Then this huge guy gets out and walks up to my car window, effectively trapping me in my car. I rolled down my window because he looked like he had something to say. He did: “Are those two black dogs yours?”

I confirmed that they were, and asked if something had happened. I figured maybe one of them had gone to the bathroom on his lawn or something and he wanted me to clean it up. Nope.

He proceeded to yell that my dogs had THREATENED his son. His 17 month old son, who for some reason was standing by the mailbox right next to the street in front of his house without his parents. He said they were barking at his son and if he hadn’t been there, they probably would have attacked. It was only when he walked over, because he’s such a big guy, and yelled get! that they ran away (right back to my house. Big threat right?).

At this point, I interjected because I know my dogs: “Oh, and they barked right? Yeah, I know, they bark at kids. We’ve been working on that and they’re currently in training classes. They’re loud, but they’ve never bitten anyone or even tried to bite anyone. I’m sorry, I know that’s scary for kids and I’m sorry they scared your son–”

He then interrupted me to say that he knows I have aggressive dogs (Um, no. I have two rescues, one of whom is scared to death of strangers and the other who barks in excitement. If you move toward Shecky while she barks, she runs away. If you move towards Bones, she flops on the ground so you can rub her belly.) because he’s seen them on walks and I can barely control them. Another exaggeration. They walk pretty nicely now, and they only get excited and pull when they see another dog (which they usually stop and play with for a minute, without aggression) or birds (which they want to chase).

I apologized again and told him they’re not aggressive, it was an accident that they got out, and all that. He then told me that I’ve seen his dog (a pit bull, who is very well trained) and his dog never leaves his lawn, and his dog is big and could inflict real damage on someone if he did escape. I confirm that he does have a well trained dog, and reiterate that my dogs are puppies and we’re working on their behavior, but that they still have some problems. They’re puppies.

He then says, “I just want you to understand that if they ever come near my property, I will kill them. I will shoot and kill them.”

Um, what? I’m trying to wrap my head around the reason he would shoot my dogs when they didn’t bite anyone or even try to bite anyone and he knows that he can tell them to go away and they will. He then goes on for several minutes, repeating that he has a gun and that he will shoot my dogs if they ever get out again.

I finally interrupt him and say, “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry my dogs got out and scared your kids. That they got out was an accident, and one that I will try my best to prevent from happening again. I understand that you’re going to kill them if they get out again. I think that’s an overreaction, but I understand what you’re saying.”

He finally backs away from my car, saying that he’s going to contact the HOA so that when (not if, but when) he shoots my dogs, they’ll know it wasn’t the first time there was a problem with them.

When I picked up the phone I had set in my lap (with my dad on the line), my dad was LIVID. He was swearing and talking about coming out here again with his gun to have a talk with this guy, and what kind of person comes down to threaten a woman with a gun and so on and so on. I love my dad.

Now, I’m scared out of my mind because the last two times they got out, it wasn’t my fault. The warranty people putting a drain pipe in my neighbor’s yard dug a hole under my fence for some reason and the dogs out that way. The other time warranty people were working in my backyard and didn’t close my gate when they left. Dogs get out. It happens. If you don’t want to help me catch them when they get out, fine. But to tell me that you’re going to kill them if they get out? What the hell?

I’m not going to walk them in my neighborhood anymore. I’ll drive the 20 minutes to a park or half an hour to the Riverwalk. But I don’t even want to put them in the backyard anymore! I’m going to have to go all around the fence and double check that there’s no where they can get out. I’m pretty sure they can’t, but what if they do? The consequences of that are too great for me to deal with.

But here’s the thing. I’ll be polite to your face, especially if you’re crazy and have a gun, but I don’t take threats sitting down.

I called the HOA to report the incident too. I have at least a couple neighbors who can attest that my dogs are loud, but not hostile or dangerous. And I apologized for my dogs getting out, but mentioned that I don’t appreciated being threatened and intimidated by a neighbor with a gun. And did I mention that I was in tears when I left them the message? Yeah, they’re not going to side with him.

Also, this neighbor is in the Army. I believe this guy is an SFC. He should know better. I’ll be contacting his command on Monday morning to report the incident. I’m pretty sure his command won’t look favorably at threatening a military spouse whose husband is currently deployed.

I’m pissed. This guy emphasized how he will do anything to keep his kid safe. Guess what? My dogs are my kids. And I’m not going to let him hurt them either.

I hope I get a job offer soon, so I can get out of here and take my dogs to DC, where hopefully people aren’t as crazy.

Some Random Thoughts

I don’t have any thoughts to form a cohesive blog post, so here is a collection of random thoughts.

1. When I tell my dog “off,” don’t tell her she’s a good girl when she ignores me and continues to jump on you. She’s not. And when I tell your dog “off” and she doesn’t listen, don’t get all huffy when I push her away.

2. I’ve started back up at the gym again. It’s about stinking time. And it’s finally cooled off enough that I can start running outside again. I have a plan to do just that… starting in a week.

3. When your dog does his business in the dog park, don’t just make a dumb joke and ignore it. Clean up after your dog. That’s why they provide ample bags and trash cans, and why there are signs posted around that say “Please Clean Up After Your Dog.” Next time, I will pick it up and hand you the bag, so you can take your present from your dog with you.

4. I saw the Last Airbender in theaters. I thought it was going to be terrible. Now I want to see the Last Airbender 2 and I’m a little disappointed that it’s not coming out until 2012.

5. My dad is coming to visit in a week and a half! I’m so excited.

6. If you are going to bring your kids to the dog park (in spite of the sign that says no small children), teach them how to interact correctly with dogs. Yelling at dogs, trying to grab sticks out of their mouths, and running at them is not the proper way to interact. It’s a way to get bitten. And if my dogs do make your kids cry by barking at them, perhaps you should rethink why that might be instead of recommending a book about dog psychology to me. Yeah, you read that correctly. She really did recommend a book on dog psychology. Had I known a title off the top of my head, I would have recommended a book on child psychology.

7. I’m going to see the Switch tomorrow. I have high hopes. And I will be smuggling in a diet Dr. Pepper and a bag of pretzel M&Ms. (What’s your favorite movie snack? Are you opposed to smuggling in snacks?)

8. I don’t want to buy a new Navy Ball dress. Can I just wear the same one from last year?

9. It hasn’t rained in a couple days, so I didn’t bother to check the weather forecast or even really look outside before I took the dogs on their evening walk. I noticed it was a little overcast when we started walking, but brushed it off. Halfway through our mile walk, the skies opened up and it started pouring. When we got back, it looked like the dogs had jumped in a pool and I was dripping.

10. The Rizzoli and Isles books are awesome. They remind me of Patricia Cornwell before her books turned crappy. And the TV show is pretty awesome too. I’ve also just gotten into Bones. I already love those books, but they’re not like the TV show and that always bugged me. I’m over that now.

Rage. Lots of Rage.

I try to be positive, but I’m having some rage issues right now. As you might know, I had an exceptionally bad day today.

I got rejected from a job that I had applied for so long ago I almost forgot I had applied for it. I didn’t necessarily want it and probably wouldn’t have taken it at this point, but I was 95% sure I was going to get it and it stung that I didn’t. All of a sudden, I’m having doubts again about whether I’ll get into clinical psych PhD programs, which are super competitive. I haven’t done anything with psych since I graduated in 2006 and I can’t really beef up the research side of my application, which is where I’m lacking. And if I don’t get into psych PhD programs, what am I going to do? Waste another year of my life, playing with the dogs and being a housewife. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a housewife if that’s your thing, but it’s not my thing. I need to do something else. I’m bored and I don’t like relying on Chris for money.

And yeah, I know I dropped from OCS and “quit the Navy,” as my little brother likes to say. You don’t have to remind me. And I know I could have had a nice government job in DC, except that I turned that down too. Does that mean I shouldn’t ever get to have a job again? I don’t think so. If anyone brings either of those up again, they’re going to get throat punched.

Speaking of the Navy, they turned me down for the Reserves today. I was expecting that one, and that still hurt. Apparently, I was good enough for active duty, but not for the Reserves. And I do take it personally, even though I know there’s a very small acceptance rate and the lady who did my interview really really liked me and told me to please keep reapplying if I didn’t get accepted. I’m pissed that the LCDR at OCS who told me he would gladly write me a letter for the Reserves when/if I needed it never returned my phone calls or emails when I needed it. I’m pissed that my former supervisor at the Naval Postgraduate School who wrote an awesome recommendation for my AD packet wouldn’t return my phone calls or answer my emails when I KNOW she was in her office. If you don’t want to write me a letter, that’s fine, but have the balls to pick up the phone and tell me so. (And if you’re about to comment about my DOR, see the above about throat punching. That was not an empty threat.)

I’ll resubmit for the next board, but that’s not for another year and I don’t see it doing a whole lot of good. And do waivers expire? Because if they do, mine is probably going to expire. And since the Navy hates me, they’re probably not going to give me another one. It’s probably time for me to give up on the military and just live vicariously through Chris. So that explains why I spent most of today crying and trying to console myself with Easter candy.

And consoling myself with candy is probably why my shorts didn’t fit right when I dragged them out of the closet because it was freaking 97 degrees today (at least according to the sign I saw). So I had to wear long pants today, which I’m sure just added to my wonderful mood. And no Chris, you *do not* understand how frustrating it is that my clothes don’t fit. YOU weigh 120 pounds, all your shorts are too big because it’s hard to find 28 inch waists in men’s jeans and even when you find them they’re still a little loose, and you can eat snacks of things like a dozen hot wings or 30 pizza rolls everyday and still weigh 120 pounds. And no, it’s not because I’ve been slacking on the exercise. If you’ll recall, even when I was watching what I ate all the time and working out consistently for about an hour every day, my weight still didn’t budge.

Oh, and to top it off, Chris just found out that he’s deploying in the near future. Fabulous. I have no friends of my own here and no job. Just me and the dogs. Great.

And this is probably why I can’t sleep. I’m too angry to sleep.

Repeat: Stay away from HP

My laptop worked fine this morning, then I closed it and went to the gym… since then won’t turn on. It appears to be a common problem with my model (Pavilion tx1000) and not one that HP has bothered to fix. I’ve had more problems with this computer in the 13 months that I’ve had it than I had with my Dell in over four years, and way more problems with their customer service.

So I guess it’s time to buy another computer. Sigh. This hurts. At least I just got a fat tax refund that should pay for it.