Desiree's Space

In case you haven't noticed, I haven't exactly used this blog in a long time.  I've become a MySpace addict and spend my time blogging there.  My account is private, so if you're interested in what I have to say, just request to be my friend and we'll go from there!

Have a good one!

As my brother-in-law gracefully pointed out to me two weekends ago, I haven’t blogged for quite awhile.  Oops.  While I try not to make excuses, I can hardly say the last month has been slow or dull for me.  I’m still making so many adjustments to my new life, and I’m not entirely sure what that really entails yet.  My job is going well, but with far more chaos and disorganization than I idealistically imagined.  I still love coming home to Harold my fish and my quaint little apartment, and it’s getting more character every day (in a good way, that is...).  The emotional adjustment process is the slowest, but I don’t think it should be otherwise.  Jon made it to his first destination (FYI—he’s not still en route over the Atlantic, David) and I feel really lucky with how much we get to communicate.  But wow, it’s just not the same and I miss him terribly.  Something about my semi-delirious state at 4 a.m. isn’t real conducive for a good ‘ole heart-to-heart.  It’s another one of those point of perspective situations—I obviously know I love Jon and want to spend the rest of my life with him, but already our time apart has made me realize how easy it is to take someone for granted.  I just have this absence in my life right now, and he’s the only one who can fill it, so all I can do for now is wonder what he’s doing and wait.  It’s that patience thing again...clearly my strong point.

 

There’s just been a lot of inner turmoil for me lately.  My heart has been breaking for a few of my close friends who are going through unimaginable circumstances right now and still staying so strong.  Jon’s grandparents have just been through another round of medical excursions, and I ache for him as there is really no way around this difficult time.  I’m still searching for a home church in my new area, and that search is wearing and tiresome.  There is nothing I can do but pray, and for someone who loves to be a woman of action, the outwardly passive role is extremely hard.  In so many ways, I feel like there’s just not enough of me.  It’s as if parts of me are turning off, shutting down like vital organs without oxygen, and I don’t know what to do about it or how to stop it.  Though I run and run from living a facade, the fakeness and pleasantries of the world seem to somehow trap me and I end up feeling like I’m living a lie.  However, the big question is who am I lying to?  More often than not I’m afraid to answer.

 

So while I have been extremely busy, the blank page has begun to frighten me again as I attempt to form words that match even a sliver of my true thoughts.  As strange and deafening as it can be, silence has been my comfort lately.  In the quiet moments, my deepest vulnerabilities find exposure, and I don’t think that’s such a bad thing.

I have a theory.  Even though it’s not published in any manual or official training guide, I believe a bit more every day that the military has this tricky little plan to not only send our loved ones to strange and not-always-so-safe places, but also toy with our heartstrings in slightly cruel and unusual ways.  About two weeks ago, Jon and I found out his trip to the giant Middle Eastern sandbox was going to come a few days earlier than expected, so we began trying to prepare for all that was ahead.  Now, over a week after he was supposed to leave and at least four goodbye “attempts” later, I’m still not quite sure if I’ve said my last stateside goodbye for the next year.  (Supposedly he’s on a plane crossing the Atlantic right now, but I won’t believe it until I hear from him on the other side!)  How can such a large and powerful force run with seemingly so little organization?  That’s one thing I’m pretty sure I’ll never understand, but as my dad says, that’s the military!

 

With all of the changes and readjustments happening in my life right now, I find myself feeling a bit like Mary.  I’ve always been struck by how she dealt with her huge news—pondering everything in her heart.  How could she keep things so big so deep inside?  In the past three months, I’ve graduated from college, gotten engaged, said goodbye to close friends, moved to a much larger and unfamiliar city, accepted and started my first professional position, and sent my fiancé to war—life changes I can hardly say I’m used to.  And in spite of these changes, I’ve only had one sobbing moment, which is quite surprising considering my typical behavioral patterns.  I find myself more introspective than usual, attempting logic and reason rather than resorting to emotional flailing.  I’ve been praying for internal peace for Jon and I for the past several months, and I’d have to say it’s working.  

 

My mom and I had a big conversation the last time I was home (AKA my only real sobbing moment in this process thus far) and she reminded me of the Bible verse we often hear—to whom much is given, much is required.  But she told me about the second part of the verse many people overlook—to whom much more is given, much more is required.  I have been blessed so abundantly with opportunities I still cannot quite fathom and timing of events that truly transcends any power of my own.  Who am I to complain?!  It’s the balance of the good and bad times in life that make us who we are and help us see the world in a new light every day.

 

I’m still far more stubborn than I’d like to admit, with often lacking patience and difficulty relinquishing control, but I can tell this time of growth for me.  What that means, or what it is I’m growing into, I’m still not sure.  But tomorrow is another day in the journey and another day closer to seeing where my ever-changing path will lead.  I’m going to go with the “glass half full” mentality this time. :)

While I’m not a fan of the e-mail forward monster, I do love learning about others through complete randomness.  When we were first dating, Jon and I played “The Question Game” every night—ask a question and get an honest answer, with the “reward” of the answer itself and the opportunity to ask anything of the other person.  In a different twist of an old favorite, I decided to resurrect a few lists of my own for a fun revealing of sorts.  Enjoy!

 

*Things That Always Make Me Cry*

   - Weddings

   - Airport good-byes

   - Shakespeare In Love

   - Tears of friends

   - Patriotic photo montages

 

*The Most Influential Person In My Life*

   - My dad

 

*My Favorite TV Guilty Pleasures*

   - So You Think You Can Dance

   - Project Runway

   - Nip/Tuck

   - The Hills

 

*My Favorite Constellation*

   - Orion (thanks Mitch!)

 

*My Biggest Pet Peeve*

   - People who don’t follow through with their promises

 

*My Favorite Publicly Overheard Comment*

   - “Why can’t you just act like a normal five year old?!”  

   ...said to a child acting very much like a normal, rambunctious five year old

 

And for all my fellow advertising geeks...

 

*My favorite current ad campaign*

   - Mac vs. PC television ads—even though I’m not a Mac diehard, I absolutely love them!

 

* TV ad worthy of an immediate channel flip*

   - Lamisil—the toenail fungus thing makes my stomach turn, especially when he flips up the toenail like a trash can lid

 

*Today’s favorite Jon memory*

   - Playing on the elementary school swing set in the freezing cold on our first date

   (Just thinking about it still brings a huge smile to my face )

With a little extra time to think and a lot weighing on my mind, I’ve had another shining “ahh ha!” moment.  As a generalized whole, it is not a priority of our society to be kind or hospitable to others.  (I know, my light bulb flickers a bit slowly sometimes, but it is bright nonetheless!)  A few days ago my daily calendar (that I really should read daily because it actually makes me think!) read, “When you are in the final days of your life, what will you want?  When death extends its hands to you, where will you turn for comfort?  Will you hug that college degree in the walnut frame?  Will you ask to be carried to the garage so you can sit in your car?  Of course not.  What will matter then will be people.  If relationships matter most then, shouldn’t they matter most now?”

 

Recently I have found myself increasingly aware of the kind acts of others.  Gestures as simple as setting aside time to hear my thoughts, letting me into a busy stream of traffic, and offering me a bottle of water before I truly need it have each had their own way of stopping me in my tracks.  In the rush of life, I’m realizing it takes far more cognitive action than it should to consciously be good to others.  And I can’t quite figure out why it’s so difficult.

 

On the Fourth of July, I listened to the tail end of President Bush’s speech from Fort Bragg, NC, where he urged the country to support our troops.  As a significant other of one of “those troops” soon to visit the great sandbox, I felt the need to do something tangible.  I visited www.americasupportsyou.mil, the Department of Defense’s website with a list of numerous programs and resources for to the support of our military and its families.  After looking around, I was drawn to www.troopcarepackage.com, and I am still excited after receiving the name and contact information for my adopted solider yesterday.  I know how important mail was to Jon on his last cruise, so I can only imagine how wonderful it must feel to receive something from home after spending several months in the desert.  I filled out one of the dreaded customs forms last night and I’m headed to the post office in the morning... hopefully my favorite “friend” (AKA my postal department nemesis who always “helps” me and challenges my diligently penned form) will feel some of the kindness that appears to circulate somewhat thinly in the air.

 

Once again, my patience has been challenged.  How do I focus on the relationships in my life with an outlook of compassion and kindness instead of irritation or frustration?  How do I make that my first instinct? 

 

Jon’s training process has caused several instances where the only options for communication were not ideal.  Welcome to the military, right?  The past month has been especially trying, as one miscommunication after another has changed plans so frequently it is difficult to know what tomorrow holds for either of us.  I truly cannot fathom the amount of stress he is experiencing, but in spite of his overwhelming mental and physical exhaustion, he tries so hard to make time for us every day.  I am struggling to build the necessary strength to help him through this next chapter of his career while jumping through some major hoops in my career process as well.  Even in January, when we thought Cuba was the deployment destination, I told him I knew I would have to be stronger than I really wanted to be for us to make it through this while still maintaining our sanity.  Seven months later, I still feel quite a bit of the same sentiment.

 

As strange as it may sound, making the conscious effort to recognize and rejoice in good deeds is helping me gain and maintain the internal strength I’ve been seeking.  (...and I’m building character, right?)  The journey is still incredibly young, but I feel like the clichéd proverb—I’m on my way because I’ve made the first step.  And what a certain adventure ahead!