I know I suck.
Bring the criticisms, bitchez! Bring. It.
It is genetically impossible for me to start a project and bring it to a successful and satisfactory completion. Please see: Dog sleeping in her own bed (nope), Exercise plan (bwahahahahaaaa!), Learning 100 French verbs (le WTF?), Showering every day (ehhh...), etc. So you can see how this blog was doomed from the start.
Also, I have a confession to make. I have been fighting my nature. To be fair, I didn't know I was fighting my nature, I thought I was just undergoing a particularly painful transformation into a positive, well-adjusted, serene earth-mother type who smiled graciously all the time and bestowed benevolent advice like throwing flowers petals around in slow-motion arcs.
Pardon me for a moment (sensitive eyes should avert themselves):
FUCK THAT, MOTHERFUCKERS!
Turns out I was actually having adamantium surgically grafted to my skeleton and I've recently woken up snarling. And with mutton chops. (Mutton chops are those extra pockets of fat that poke out from under the sides of your bra, right?)
R has already been home for his 2 week r&r and left again. And while those 2 weeks were perfectly enjoyable, stress-free and full of family- and couple-quality-time in equal balance, they did make me realize a hard truth.
I have been FAKING IT. The FRG bullshit, the million-and-one projects I outlined for myself, the sympathetic sisterhood with my fellow army wives... Fake, fake, and fake. I realized, as I left him at the train station, that I am absolutely, unequivocally not up to the task of treating the 2nd half of this deployment like I did the first.
Clue number one: "Smiling graciously" on me looks more like "Oops, sorry - I think a fart just came out of my mouth."
Clue number two: Positive can piss off.
Clue number three: Benevolent advice and flower petals are equally useful - which is to say, like tits on bike riding fish.
Clue number four: Suck it.
I quit as FRG co-leader (see aforementioned handicap re: completing things). I trashed my long term to-do list. I bought every season of Smallville on DVD. I'm getting used to doggie morning breath.
The thing is - I do tough. I just don't do it with a smile. I thought I could, and I think I really gave it a good ol' college try, but I have 30+ years of survival tactics that fit me like a pair of old jeans and I can't play dress up anymore. So if you were coming here to see the new and improved A, complete with keep-your-chin-up affirmations and kindness and understanding... Sorry. I kicked that bitch's ass.
I'll post when I feel like it. It may or may not have a picture. Probably I'll rant a lot. Definitely I'll let my freaky, hyperbole-flag fly. And the rest of the world can reference clue number four.