Scared

Well, if you live here, you know that I am in the midst of the worst-week-ever. Since I've been here, I've marveled at how safe Germany is. No need to lock car doors! I can leave the back door open for Taz! That type of thing. For me, it was like being back home in Gulfport where we felt safe, even knowing that we had a window that couldn't be locked. Even so, I still locked the car doors, per Woodstock's instruction. But apparently, the other night, I wasn't careful enough. When I got up the next morning, I started my day by going to pick up a friend to go downtown. Instinctively, I got ready to rake through the change Jamil keeps in the front console. Except it wasn't there. Panicked, I looked through the car ... what else was missing? It was mostly random stuff, pin-on rank without the backs, the Pink Panther costume the pastor's wife let me borrow (don't ask. Just ... don't), Jamil's sunglasses and my iPod. Thank goodness it was a shuffle, because if not, I would have really been tripping. When I went to the MP station to fill out a report, I was pissed. How DARE someone do this to me? And it wasn't about what was taken, but the principle: someone was in my car!

But later that night, as I prepared for bed, I had another feeling. Fear. I've never really been scared of many things - not genuinely scared I mean. And this feeling I had, I don't know. I thought back to last week when the wind blew over the mat in my backyard. What if the wind didn't blow it over? What if someone was checking for the key that I usually keep there and thank God, put away. I tiptoed outside in my slippers, just to make sure I'd locked the car door. Everytime I heard voices or a car door slam, I glanced out of the window suspiciously. And when I heard a door slam twice, but never heard footsteps, I went outside to investigate, arms folded with a frown on my face. Hmmm... a green Mercedes SUV, that looks unfamiliar. That night I stayed up as late as possible and then went to sleep on the couch.

I've always thought of myself as a strong, black woman. Although I've never been in a fight, I have no doubt that after surveying the scene for weapons, I could totally dole out a pretty good a-- whoopin'. I'm the one who picked bugs off of screaming women and children, and flicked them away. So this fear, this feeling that perhaps someone could come into the house and get me ... I don't know how to describe it. The pastor's wife told me to recite a scripture, "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." And I tried to recite it, but of course I can never remember the entire thing.

But I tried. And I told myself that I wouldn't be afraid. I've prayed about it, and I have received peace about the whole situation.

Even so, one little thing still looms in the back of mind, something that I will have to repent for if the time comes:

If I see Pink Panther walking down the street, I'm punching him in the face.

And then I'll ask for forgiveness.

This Too Shall Pass

Well, the day has finally come. Woodstock left last week.

And it was more difficult than I thought it would be. The actual leaving – the hour we get for family time, and watching the bus leave – wasn’t so bad. Our pastors and their family and another minister came out to support us and another brother that left that day. We laughed and joked and prayed during that hour. It wasn’t sad at all; I didn’t cry. But maybe that’s because I’d already had my time a week prior at church. Everyone who was deploying was asked to come to the front for prayer and I just lost it. I mean, I didn’t fall out or anything like that, I just quietly excused myself. I think that’s when reality really set in for me. I’m hoping the first night apart is the hardest. I held on the entire day – alternately reading O magazine and Cosmo; talking to friends and family on the phone; watching the 1st season of Grey’s Anatomy. But in the end, all those distractions – along with an apple martini or two – still didn’t do anything to numb the pain that he won’t be around every day. I’ll look at the grass growing higher, but he won’t be here to do anything about it. Or when my car’s acting funny, I’ll be the one to actually set things up. When I’ve had a bad day, and come home, only Taz will be here to hear it. The worst part for me right now is that I've always thought I was a pretty strong person, but this situation has me feeling differently, like maybe I'm not as strong as I thought. I don't know.

A week later, I'm feeling a little bit better. I gave myself from the day he left until today to get my s%%t together. So today I finally got up and mowed the grass. Then Taz locked me out of the house (don't ask) so I had to jump the fence, go to a neighbor's house, call my friend with the extra key and wait on my doorstep like an idiot. But that little bit actually showed me that I'll be OK, even in a difficult situation and has made me grateful for my neighbors (OK, we really just met today) and friends. I even went to the gym, ran some errands and made an appointment for a job. (FYI, my old job was temporary and despite my boss's best intentions, my extension and rehiring were denied)

I've also received to date one phone call and several e-mails from Woodstock so it feels good have some contact. I even called and chatted with mom-in-law. I know this is random because I wrote it over the whole week - I wasn't playing about not doing anything for a week. So during this time, I still have a lot to stay busy. Hopefully a new job (part-time), I'll start sending out some queries about writing freelance, and I'm in a play.

Plus, I have to spend some of this month mentally preparing for my mom's trip here next month.

But that's a whole 'nother post.

p.s. I totally can't figure out how to post pictures anymore, so from now on any new pics we take are on the flickr thing on the left.

What about your friends

So, I'm back finally, after being without phone or internet since I moved 2 1/2 weeks ago. For starters, I love the new place! We are decorating, getting things together, and finally settled again enough last week to invite people over.

The move, however, also marked another new beginning in my life. A situation happened this week that made me really think about some things. I won't get into details (in case some people are reading, I don't want to add fuel to an already blazing fire that I'm still unsure as to how it all went down) but I will say that it made me grateful for all of my real friends. Grateful to the point where I actually thanked God for sending me those friends, and for allowing those who aren't true friends revealing their true selves before I, and many other wives, begin what is sure to be a stressful time. I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with, but never before this week has any of the core facets of my being been attacked. The main one: honesty. I feel that I am an honest person, and often to a fault. I will tell it like it is, and will give criticisms to anyone's face, whether they like it or not. Even so, I'm fiercely loyal. My friends, and even those who aren't, can call me in a time of need or crisis, and I"ll be there. Now, I may not necessarily be happy as I drag myself out of be at 2 a.m. to 1) bail a boyfriend out of jail 2) beat that b***h down 3) be a shoulder to cry on 4) make a pitcher of Cosmos for a man-bashing meeting (just kidding Woodstock) 5)Deliver a baby or any of the other things I have been called on to do in the past (or future), but have no doubt about it; I will do it. It's not even a question. So my welcome back post is dedicated to those friends, listed in no particular order.

1) Ms. King (like your new alias?) - We were friends before we even met for the first time. I don't recall how I got in touch with you, but I thank God that I did. You are a great friend, and I feel that I can share anything with you. Don't ever hesitate to ask me for anything - it's done. I'll even babysit. For free. And I won't complain about having to change diapers.

2) Tif - I think that you are one of the few (new) people that I can totally be myself around. Meaning I can come to your house, eat your food, watch your satellite TV and not even have to talk if I don't want to because I'm in a crappy mood. I appreciate that. Now when are you coming to Germany?

3) Riddler - You are the meanest nice person I know. Thanks for getting me through those tough times, and making me be nice to people. Even when I don't want to. And for letting me vent to you while you're at work when I know that you actually have a job where you're expecte to work!

4) Gulfport Crew (Apple Jacks, Jeffy and Kenny)- Oh, my dear friends, even though I know none of you will read this, thanks for everything. For being there, for keeping it real, for not letting me walk out the house/go to the club/ go to school - while looking a mess. I know that I will hear the truth from you three whether I want to or not. AJ will fight for me, Jeffy will play the peacemaker, and Kenny will let me know whether or not that 10-inch ponytail will come out during the fight. Of course, you are all more than that and more. And I thank you.

5) Taz - Cause you're so cute! And even when I've had a crappy day and yell at you, you still jump up in my lap and lick my hand, and make me feel like I'm the only one in the world you want to scratch your ears.

Lastly, Woodstock, because you are my friend when no one else is around, you have seen me at my worst and still love me, and you let me rant, rave and curse. For 10 minutes. Before giving me a hug and telling me to get over it.

Of course there are more friends out there who have done lots, but this is my list for now because these are the folks who I've actually spoken with recently and you all know that my memory is bad. So anyone I left out: forgive me. Don't curse me out. Don't talk about me behind my back. Don't call so-and-so and say "I can't believe that heffa left me out."

But then again, if you say any of those things, perhaps we weren't friends anyway.

That's Amore'

So, I'm finally getting off my lazy, temporarily unemployed ass and blog about our trip to Italy. My first mistake was trying to be cheap. My second mistake was ignoring the signs. Instead of staying at a REAL hotel, I figure, why don't we stay on a military base? The place where I wanted to go was booked (Vecinza, an hour from Venice) so I opted for Aviano, which is an Air Force Base. If you know anything about the military, you know that Air Force stuff is hella better than Army stuff. However, I got a little worried when the day before we were to leave, a storm with hurricane force winds hit Aviano. But we ignore the signs and go anyway.

The place has absolutely no public transportation. Like people literally stopped and have to give us rides to where we wanted to go. So we pretty much 1) shopped at AAFES 2) ate at Popeyes 3) went to the commissary. In other words, the same s#$t we do here. Although we did get a ride to a restaurant where we had something yummy called a grappina or something like that. But then we had to bum a ride to get back on post, at which point we both said forget this let's leave for somewhere else in the morning. And thus begins our adventure ...

First stop: the Perdonene train station to get us the hell out of Italian hick town.

Not sure if you can tell from the pic, but this is on the MFing ground. Seriously. There's a handle on the side. You hold onto the handle and squat to do your business. It was crazy.

So we get to Camp Darby in Livorno, cause you know I'm still not ready to give up on this cheap hotel dream. Note to self: Army hotels are NOT cheap. They are expensive, yet half the size as the Air Force. What's up with that? This is where the adventure really picks up, and "picks up" I mean really starts to get annoying and push the boundaries of my newfound peace and patience. When we got our tickets for the train, the schedule put us getting to Livorno at about 5 p.m. Cool. Still enough time to hang out, eat dinner, maybe look for a little club or something. We get to Milan and ask the attendance which track the train leaves from. Apparently, for the train to Livorno, we have simply bought a ticket. Not a seat. OooKaayy ... so we get in line to buy a seat. Now, I'm not going to call any names, but the male portion of our trip duo stood in THE.SLOWEST.LINE.EVER. For real. We stood in line for an hour. Got to the front at 3:58 and the train left at 4. The chick looks at her watch and pretends, if only for a moment, that we actually had a chance at making that one. So, we miss the train. Now I start to get antsy and whatnot and by now I'm screaming on the inside because although the NEXT train doesn't need a seat to be purchased and leaves in an hour, it takes like 6 frickin' hours and we won't get there until 10. Damn. So we sit there, Woodstock consoling me because I'm on the verge of freaking out because I like to plan things, and we didn't plan this trip, and things like this happen when you don't plan!!!! We eat (McDonald's. Pathetic, I know. But everything was closed except for this little hut that only sold drinks and the sandwich shops in the train station. On a side note, German sandwiches are WAAAAY better than Italian ones.

So, 6 hours later, we have our bags, we're here, we just want to get to the hotel. So we walk to the Taxi parking area. No Taxis. We walk back and forth. Nope, still nothing. OK. We're starting to worry. Should we try to take a bus or something? Finally, in the nick of time a Taxi shows up, takes us to post. It takes 15 minutes or so to get there, but costs about 30 euro - about $38. I'm tripping because in Germany you can damn near take a cab anywhere for under 15 but we're tired. We drag our bags and our tired butts onto post and into the hotel where we pretty much fall straight to sleep. The next morning, we get up eat at the DFAC (so much for Italian breakfast I guess), and go to rent a car. I'd hoped we could turn it back in in Venice, but no luck. This is our fly rental. Jealous?

Ok, I'm totally sleepy so tomorrow - for real this time! - part two. Hopefully there will be more pics but Blogger seems to be tripping which is why they're so limited this time. But just in case here's a teaser - dum, dum, dummmm!!!!!

It's over now

Unless I get a phone call within the next 15 minutes, I am now unemployed.

I thought I’d gotten used to the constant waiting of Army life, but this is a new feeling. My job contract was set to expire today, but I’d been told from the day I was hired that it would be extended; that it would be no problem. But late last week told a different story. My department was scrambling to get a last minute approval because of a new rule requiring stateside approval for any hiring action because of budget cuts. Right now there is neither approval nor disapproval. Approval after today still means I’m fired – I can just be rehired later, which is something my bosses have already agreed to. If it comes back disapproved? Well, that’s a different story, meaning pretty much that I’m out of luck. And with the hiring freeze now in place, I’ll be hard pressed to find anything else. So now, I sit here 10 minutes away from being a housewife again. My feelings are conflicted. I’m upset – I’d hoped to be working at least until December. But at the same time, I could use a short break. Short meaning a month, not two years.

So I’ll go on vacation, the excitement of which has been partially squelched by this wait-and-see scenario, and hope that when I get back I’ll have a job.

Because no matter how much I complain – or what I complain about – I love to work. And when I’m not working, I feel a little less than what I am. I'd finished the outstanding memos that were to be written and created an out of office reply: "I will be out of the office for an indefinite period of time."

7 minutes until close of business the phone rings. At this point my hopes of hearing something today are almost shattered, but still my heart skips a beat.

"What do you mean you're out of the office indefinitely?!?" It's the community sergeant major. I tell him the situation and he demands why I didn't tell him sooner. It's all being worked out, I tell him. I thank him for calling. I send an e-mail to the staff saying essentially the same thing, but the tone in that e-mail, it's clear that I may not be back.

2 minutes before the end of what has turned out to be my last day of work I get an e-mail. With my system, a portion of the e-mail flashes on the screen. "Congratulations!" It reads.

I open it.

I am one of this month's volunteers of the month. Ain't that a b@#$h. I start to laugh. Too hard. I make myself stop when I feel it becoming one of those hysterical laughs that get louder and louder until it becomes crying.

4:00. My boss comes in and asks if I've heard anything. He got my e-mail. "You'll be back next week," he tells me.

I hope so. I pack up a few belongings - I'll pick up the rest next week - and turn off the light. I have to close the blinds to make sure it's off because they're activated by the light produced outside and for the past 2 days, I've accidentally left them on.

And I won't be there Monday to turn them off.

Still here

I am a source of power
I am excited journey
I am a rock of patience
I am a whisper singing

I am unbridled freedom
I am the thoughtful thinking
I am a love unshattered
I am the great orgasm

And if you don't recognize my presence, I am here
And if you don't recognize my presence, I am here

- Jill Scott, Beautifully Human

I've been getting my ass whooped. First by Woodstock and now, Da Riddler has joined in. And not one of those Go-get-my-belt whuppins. One of those -go-pick-a-switch-off-da-tree-and-don't-bring-the-smallest-or-two-get-twisted-together type of whuppins. First Woodstock started it, urging me to get on my game, scolding me when I didn't.

But my line sister REALLY tore into me in an IM convo. I'm green, she's pink.

nolimit :what's up?
Riddler:not much and u
nolimit: exhausted ... but writing class is at 6 so just waiting for that.
Riddler: cool, writing class
Riddler:oh i can't wait for the finished product
nolimit: and I'm such a slacker ... still where I was two days ago ... the class will be disappointed
Riddler : SHAPE UP NO LIMIT
Riddler: what's wrong with you
Riddler:what's the prob?
nolimit : I know ... I don't know - unmotivated but that's what the class is for, motivation. When I get home, so tired, and then too much other BS going on. Might quit the church thing ...
nolimit:i mean as church secretary
Riddler:blah blah blah
Riddler: excuses is all i'm hearing
nolimit : i know, not giving excuses, I realize my slacker tendencies ...
Riddler : anything worth having is worth working for
Riddler: stop talkin about it and be about, u've gotten soft since u left the states

Damn Riddler, it's like that? But she's right, and so is Woodstock. During my bachelorette party onne of my bridesmaids read a survey she had put together where Wood answered questions and we decided whether or not they were true. What really struck me, forever solidying my love for him was the answer to the question "What does she hate most." The answer? "When people say they're going to do things and don't do them."

And I've become what I hate most. So I'm making a change here and now. Today. And I'm gonna do the damn thang. As for the name change, sansamor was my past name, the name that shackled me to a past that I'm no longer living in. And as Wood put it, it's just sad.

So No Limit is back. Reading the IM over, even I had to admit that I've gotten soft. A punk.

No Limit gets what she wants.

No Limit wins a journalism scholarship without a portfolio - in fact with only poems written on torn out steno pad paper.

No Limit talks the Dean of the School into letting her keep her scholarship even after Effing up for two semesters.

No Limit holds down 3 jobs while in undergrad so she doesn' have to ask moms for money.

No Limit goes to grad school and gets a full-time job out of it and a university teaching position.

And if you're not about my progress, stay the hell out of my way, cause I'm coming through.

Doctor! Doctor!

Aaaah … the joys of military life just don’t stop! Every day in the newspapers I read about people complaining about how the military and the Department of Defense as a whole is cutting back – on jobs, on services, on everything. But what these people fail to mention is the FREE lessons they give us every day. Yes, you read correctly, FREE. I got such a lesson myself today. I ran out of birth control pills 2 or 3 weeks ago, which signaled to me that it was time for my yearly. So I call to schedule an exam. Only there’s a waiting list. Waiting list? For an exam? So I wait two weeks before someone calls me to set my appointment. Anyway, today the appointment rolls around and I have made plans to “skip” lunch so I don’t have to take my appointment time out of my sick leave. Ok, now I know that may sound kinda shady, but I might need that sick leave – you know, for my (cough, cough) trip to Italy next month. So I get there a little early like they suggest – 1:15 for a 1:30 appointment. They have me fill out all these forms, which I don’t really understand, because haven’t I filled these out before? Then they give me a survey to say what I like and dislike about the clinic. Now, I must say that was a smart move, giving out the surveys BEFORE people see the doctor. That way they have nothing bad to report yet. So I’m chilling, reading the only damn magazine in the place “Family Fun” like I care about how to make a little house out of sponges and make grass grow on it (Who would WANT that?!?). I glance at my watch, 1:45, and I’m getting a little antsy. I admit it, I hate to wait. But I’ve come to expect to wait a LITTLE bit. They take my vitals and my blood pressure is high. I think that was a sign – a sort of preemptive sign of my impending anger. After they take the vitals, you know it’s only a matter of time before you get to the doctor (or in my case nurse practitioner) right? Wrong. I sit, tapping my feet, glancing at the plasma TV that’s playing some cartoon movie, the same movie that was on when I got there that they have had time to start over and how in the hell can they afford a plasma TV but they can’t hire another doctor up in this piece? At 2 I go to the reception desk and ask if maybe I had the wrong appointment time. I don’t. So I’m getting heated. I mean HEATED. I haven’t been that mad in a long time, since ole’ girl almost made me go off on her that time. 2:15. 2:30.2:45. I go back up to the desk, as where the restroom is just as my name is being called into the exam room. “I’m sorry ma’m, something unexpected came up during her last exam,” Soldier somebody says. DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A FLYING F$%^?!?!? You should have told me that an hour ago! But I just look at him with that smile I used when I’m pissed the hell off. I think he got the point. So when I get in there I already have an attitude, and you know how hard it is to break out of pissed off mode once you’re deep off into it. Nurse tells me to take off my clothes, put on the robe, yada yada yada. Now I know it’s her job to say that, but inside I’m screaming, “I’m 26!!! I know that I need to put on the damn robe facing the front!!!” And what’s the point of going behind a curtain to take your clothes off, and even putting on the robe for that matter? You end up butt booty nekkid anyway! So when the nurse finally comes in to talk to me she’s asking me all these dumba$$ questions, like when was your last exam. How in the eff should I know? You got my chart in your hand. It’s right there, I see it. I heard you on your computer before. What were you doing if not looking up my patient history so you wouldn’t have to come in here and ask me all these dumba$$ questions? Then they rush through my exam, shoving the speculum in so damn hard I can still feel it and tell me not to start smoking before I leave. OMG!!! So what free lesson did the Army teach me today? Patience. Or at least they tried to.