ammogirl

Do you have any particular pet peeves when it comes to spelling?  I definitely do.  My top two annoyances are loser/looser and desert/dessert.  Being in the military, the word desert is used a lot.  I would say a good 30% of the time it is misspelled as dessert, and every time I want to hunt down the author and dessert them in the head.  GAH!

So like I said twenty years ago, or whenever my last post was, John is in Italy until Wednesday for a softball tournament.  He’s with my entire office, and the night before they drove down, they all stayed over at Matt’s house.  In other words, they had a slumber party.  Anyway, I’m by myself again, but I get to do really fun things like…work on the 4th of July.  Actually, I am going in because I need to get some stuff done. So it’s not like it was mandatory work time or anything.  And somehow when you go in to work, but you do it on your own schedule, and you don’t have to wear a uniform, it seems almost like not working. Right?  RIGHT?

It’s just that of course, the minute everyone walked out the door on Tuesday, the phones started ringing off the hook and emails started flowing in and shipments had to go to Kksdfoaifheanstan and OH MY GOD it got so busy.  I had to work until almost SIX PM that night.  That is OUTLANDISH.  But all of that was just the topping on the fact that bla bla bla military work stuff, things you aren’t interested in, so as a result, I only have until Tuesday to get it done.  And that will be hard.  But!  It won’t be a problem, because I am awesome!  Sort of.  Well, when I want to be, anyway.

Have I mentioned that I hate my job, a little bit?  I try to like it but most of the time I fail with that.  The job I’m doing right now is 75% reactive, and I have a hard time with reactive situations.  For one, I don’t ever remember anything, so when people come in and go, “Quickly, I need to know how many bombs are located at one particular base in the UK and what their short tonnage is”, I can never answer right away.  I can’t keep that kind of info in my head!  It’s not interesting at all!  And then, to make it worse, once I DO know the information, generally you have to draft up either an email, memorandum, or bullet background paper on it, and being the military, you can’t just WRITE STUFF, you have to format it and condense it and officialize it and it would be so much easier if I could just WRITE DOWN WHAT I WANT TO SAY, but I can’t.  Definitely, without a doubt, written communication is my personal roadblock to my job.

Oh, speaking of communication, you know what else really, REALLY bugs me?  Forwarded emails from my boss, who is staunchly Republican and likes to send me “witty” “true” facts about both parties.

Also, FlatGreg trounced me in a drum-off tonight.  I hate him, a little bit.

Tschuss!!

Well, we’ve officially crossed over into the realm of ridiculous with the purchase of John’s belated Father’s Day gift–a freaking PS3.  You know, because the Xbox, Xbox 360, and Wii weren’t enough.  But I was silly, you see.  I gave him a choice of what he wanted, a brand new grill to replace the beatdown, world-traveling one we own now or the PS3, and what was I thinking?  Of COURSE the PS3 wins out, because as one of my friends from work pointed out, the grill is a default win anyway.  Because grills are necessary, meaning man cannot live without one, which makes it an automatic no-present purchase.  In other words, John is getting two presents for Father’s Day.  Belated.  And he’s not even my father.  Plus, have I mentioned he’s going to Italy on Wednesday for a softball tournament?  And I can’t go because the people he is going with are my entire office, meaning I am left behind to man both house AND work? By myself?  Sighhh.  I wish I was my husband, except then I’d be married to me, and that can’t be fun.

Hey, remember wayyyy back to last June when I found out I passed the test for my next stripe? Well!  Thirteen months later, I finally get to put it on.  I know!  I forgot I made another stripe too!  But sure enough, when I put on my uniform tomorrow, I will have six stripes instead of five, and that’s all kinds of awesome, the least of which being if I never make another rank, it doesn’t matter!  Tons of people retire as a Master Sergeant (MSgt, E-7, go ahead and take your pick), and while I certainly wouldn’t turn down the NEXT stripe, there will be no killing myself to try to make it.

Wow, I’ve just discovered that while answering any question, comment, or statement my husbands makes about the PS3, all I have to say is, “That’s awesome!” and he’s satisfied.  I just tried it.  Totally works.

Okay gotta go.

Tschuss!

One of the things I like to do religiously is read my hometown newspaper online.  It’s published every Wednesday, and I have a routine, starting with boring business news, and ending with the obituaries.  It’s generally a pretty dry read, there’s not a whole lot going on in good ol’ Lincoln City.  Oh, except for this excerpt from the current issue’s Public Safety log:

7:39 p.m. Domestic at Taft Trailer Park, 5100 block of S.E. Highway 101. Caller reported that subject was drunk and disorderly and that she was throwing ash trays, cups and skillets at him. He said he was hit with the objects and said “ow” several times. Disposition: Parties separated.

Cop: “And you said she was throwing items at you, is that correct?”

Guy: “Yes sir, that’s correct.  Throwing them hard.  Ashtrays, cups, skillets–you name it, she threw it.”

Cop: “Were you struck by any of these items?”

Guy: “Yes I was.”

Cop:  “What did you do when this happened?”

Guy: “Well, officer, I said ‘ow’.  Several times, actually.”

Yep.  That’s my home town.  It’s a hotbed, alright.

Tschuss!!