yes, Day #6 went fine, I'm just funky.

I just realized I'm in a funk.  I didn't know it until now.  But it's been realized by my inner being that I'm internally depressed in some form or another.


There's a reason why Vegan Week is this week.  If you're an avid fan of this here blog, you know there's a Mr. Wookie that graces the pages sometimes.  Well, he'd be the Numero Uno un-fan of Vegan Week, if he were here.  Yes, cat out of the bag.  He's not here.  That's why this Vegan Challenge came at the perfect time.


He's away saving this country one bottle of Bourbon at a time.  Okay, I lie.  Not about the saving the country.  About the Bourbon.  Poor boy hasn't had time for a cocktail he's been so busy.  And where is he?  He's somewhere I've never heard of.  But that's not hard.  Where's Brooklyn?


He's not here to bitch about, "Where's the meat?"


He and I are an odd pair.  But a great pair.  In our relationship, we don't have to maintain daily contact with each other to know we're okay or loved.  We're fine.  We can suffice on random emails whenever the boat has connectivity, or whenever he's not busy "defending freedom."  We've never been the gluedtoeachother couple.


In fact, we kinda cringe at those people who practically make out with their phone and have to say OMGILOVEYOUNOYOUHANGUPFIRST a billion times before AT&T is like, "Enough already!" *click*


But I will say that moving some place that you're still adjusting to while NOT having a solid social circle is where I'm faltering.  We've officially been here 6 months.  I just found a brow girl I trust.  We live in an area of retired Republicans, so not a lot Jonesing except for Early Bird specials at Denny's.  


Yes, I'm included in the Wives Group but we all lived spread out.  And once a month togetherings are not enough to maintain sanity outside the home.


Yes, I work, but I'm still the new one in the office and there haven't been the amazing connections I had with coworkers past (yes, Heather, if you read this, I'm talking about you ladies!)


And yes, we have a gentle giant dog.  But SHE DOESN'T TALK BACK.


I have this blog.  I have the semi-texting with friends (which have their own life/kids/graduate student responsibilities/parole hearings).  And I have Facebook.  Good golly, my life is aflitter with plans.

Just it's not.


I'm now in the real Navy.  The lonely Navy.  The Navy where they move to unimaginable places of palm trees, great weather, the hint of celebrities....and NO FRIENDS FOR YOU.  Get it, like the Soup Nazi?


I never expected this response in my life.  I'm a hard-ass individual.  I'll wear steel-toed boots and pierce your spleen my kicks are so high and mighty.  But finding a new circle of friends that are really going to be worth my time when we just move again in a couple years....I'm having extreme lack of motivation there.


It must be my criteria.  I don't want to be friends with you if you're looking for a meal ticket with a Navy Officer.  I can't be friends with you if you don't understand the Wookie & Co. lifestyle.  No, we're not married.  No, I'm not hanging on a thread of excitement for a blue box o' Tiffany's engagement ring action.  Yes, we're quite comfortable in what we are.  And yes, we do like our cocktails. ;)


Mr. Wookie and I had the discussion about the "geo bachelor."  It's where the guy follows his orders to the new location while the family stays put.  He then BOQ's it (stays in the Bachelor Officer Quarters, aka le hotel on base) for uber cheap and sends the rest of BAH (yo' rent money from the government) to you.  We could have done this.  I could have downsized in Virginia, kept my fabulous job, maintained my friendships, been a helluva lot closer to Mommy McD.  But I still would have been miserable.  We've done the long-distant dance for about a year and a half.  And that's the last time that'll happen (not under deployment circumstances).


It doesn't help that the boy is my best friend.  I have my great lady friends, don't get me wrong.  But I tell the boy everything.  That and he'd smell my gas if i didn't warn him that the beans last night for dinner are kicking in...


Yes, I can handle 6 months away from him.  What I can't stand is 6 months with just myself.  I'm funny, but only to a certain extent.  I'm smart, but only enough for the Jeopardy Teen Tournament.  But I'm also shy in meeting new people, I hate driving (so that takes out leaving the 1/2-mile radius of my place), and I refuse to be one of those unstable types that shops because they're bored.  My money has a better idea.  How about it stays put in my bank account.


Am I looking for answers to how to make this easier?  Yes.  Tell me your secrets for moving to a new location, where he's going out and in, and how you stay sane.  Because this is new soil and I'm not liking how it's suddenly dawned on me that I'm digging deep into a trench.