I decided it might be a good idea to explain the title of this blog. Kinda random, no?
So, there are three sections to my life: Home: Family, close friends, etc. Military: My husbands unit, their families, NCO's, FRG, etc. Popcorn: All the stupid bullshit that happens on life that you have no control over, but it affects your life anyway. Why do I call it popcorn? Well, most people call it drama. But I love dramatic cinema, and my favorite thing to do while watching a good movie is eat popcorn. There ya go.
Want a couple examples of popcorn? Ok. PFC Choc-nilla's wife heard from SPC Quiet Man's wife that I was badmouthing her husband. The story was that I was going around and telling "the world" that PFC Choc-nilla was cheating on her. Instead of asking me, calling me, emailing me, anything, she does nothing except continue the Popcorn. It takes me going to her house and asking her about the situation. Now the reality is that I had reason to believe he WAS being unfaithful. However, I spoke to two and only two people about this. My husband, to ask him if I should talk to her about it, and Pvt Magoo's wife to ask her to have PFC Choc-nilla's wife to call. Now, you may ask, why didn't I directly call PFC Choc-nilla's wife with my concern? Well, it's simple. I did. I called more than three times, and each time the call was unanswered, and my voicemails were not returned. I did this in view of my husband, on the off chance that Popcorn would ensue. And of course, it did. Now, I have no resentment toward PFC Choc-nilla, or his wife. I can either assume Pvt Magoo's wife told other people what I had talked to her about, or assume my husband did. Being that I'm unwilling to deal with more Popcorn, I simply drop it, mend the fences with PFC Choc-nilla's wife, and move on. Now, how does this affect my life? That depends on me. I can either get upset at the resulting opinion that I'm a "shit-talker," or I can ignore it and move on. I tend to take sort of the middle road. I do my best to show people I'm honest, but I don't force the issue when they refuse to accept it.
Now. Currently my husband is on an MRX. A rather ridiculous one, but it's still frustrating. He and his unit and currently sleeping in their shop, on post, less than 2 miles from our house. They stay there for 4 days, come home for a 3 day, then return for another 4 days. The point? No one is quite sure.
I guess I digressed a bit from the original subject of this post. But oh well. This is the one place where I can talk about this shit and vent and put my thoughts on "paper", as it were.
I suppose I should start at the beginning, as it's usually the best place to start.
My name is Jaime. At the age of 18, I met my future husband. At a Goth club. Yes, I know, how cliche. At the time, we were both involved with other people, but that didn't stop us from flirting. He was fresh out of the USMC at the time, and drunk as hell. We left the club with a group of friends, and went to Denny's. He was so drunk, he couldn't feed himself.
So, doing my duty as a military supporter, I fed him his cheese fries while completely ignoring my boyfriend. ;) That was the last time I would see him for about 2 years. We never forget each other.
When those 2 years had passed, and I had moved back to NH, we ended up bumping into each other, and the rest is history.
We got pregnany, we broke up, we got back together, had a daughter and got hitched. Then real life hit.
We were both in our early 20's, new parents, with no college education. I was lucky enough to have a decent job at a hotel, where I was an assistant manager. He, however, couldn't find anything other than a shitty job at Wal- Mart. In 2007, things had become desperate. We were in debt up to our eyeballs, risking eviction, and skipping meals to feed our daughter. This is the following conversation that would change our lives.
Derrick: I think I should go talk to a recruiter.
Jaime: A recruiter for what?
Derrick: The military. The Army.
J: The Army? Since when did you want to go back in the military?
D: Well, I've been thinking about it for a while, and I think it would really get us back on track.
J: Alright, well, let's go talk to one then.
And that was that. The papers were signed within a week, and he left for WTC (Warrior Transition Course) a couple days before our first wedding anniversary.
He was stationed in Alaska, where we now reside. Our first deployment is fast approaching. And the unit he has been assigned to is the most ridiculous, mickey-mouse, ass-kissing group of morons I've ever met who wear uniforms.
Don't get me wrong, I support and respect all the men and women of the Armed Forces. But the sheer amount of office politics and brown nosing that occurs within this particular unit is rather disturbing.
This is my place, for our story. Where I don't have to worry about other people on post reading. Where I can say what I want, without the 18 year old Army Wives talking shit. This is where I can tell my husband's story, pre-deployment and all the way through to his homecoming.