when the Mr. Wookie falls ill.

It's a rare moon when the ailments hit the Wookie & Co. household. When in Virginia (or Vagina as some call it -*ahem* "some" being myself), the illnesses there were ruthless. This Oregonian mountainwoman couldn't stand up to the bugs and diseases that plague the Eastern Seaboard. Those bugs not only commute straight to your lymph nodes, they bring their best friends to drag down your soul so you can't wait for the next duty station to get your butt out of there.

California's been kind. Much kinder.

I caught a 24-hour bug a couple weeks ago that resulted in sniffles. That's it. Hour #25, I felt like Rocky on the steps ready to take on the world. And by that I mean I wasn't forcing myself to down medication with beer (habits die hard). What I'm saying is I'm a champion.

But when illness claims Mr. Wookie instead, it's a different story. He's not your typical man. He doesn't whine like a woman in labor. He laments. Silently...on the couch, preferring to rot on his own accord than wish help from anyone.

When I'm sick, I want the world to  bend over backwards and rub my feet. So when Mr. Wookie is sick, I'm allupinhisface. "Are you okay? Do you want food? Do you want chicken noodle soup? Do you want crackers? Are you hot? Are you cold? Want me to draw you a bath?"

Yes, my "love language" is doing things. This means whether it's holding your hair while you curse the tequila shots or doing your laundry after your firstborn, I'm there.

I came home and Mr. Wookie was comatose on the couch in full sweatsuit complete with my fantastic Navy blanket (that lovely piece o' Navy flair was courtesy of my awesome family at Christmas '09 since we couldn't get away from Virginia and instead webcam'd the holiday here, here, and here). But he's been fed chicken noodle soup, has regained some body heat from the chills, and is craving an early bedtime. Unfortunately there's no extra sleep for the weary as he got off work late and has to be into work super early. Uncle Sam doesn't understand the term "sick day."

let's get ready to WEDDING!

So it's been a week since the first wedding of the season and I think I've recovered. ;)

Do I really hate weddings? Ehhh...I guess not. Do I find them entertaining? No, not really. At least not the wedding ceremony. We all know this blogger loves her some wedding receptions however. Unless you open the bar up pre-ceremony (my hero if you do). But when it's the friend who introduced you to Mr. Wookie some seven-plus years ago, you definitely set plans to be there on his day.

So come 2pm last Sunday, we were ready for a wedding. The venue couldn't have been better, the weather held off the whole time (despite dropping in temperature a couple degrees), and the bride showed up (just kidding!). My only complaint...it didn't start on time. Tsk tsk.

The boys were mostly ready for their important role of the day: Don't knife the bride. Don't trip the bride. Do try and talk the Groom out of it (just kidding!). Good luck.

The bride looked radiant. Sidenote: I'm not the biggest fan of overdone trends, like the strapless dress. However, this bride pulled it off. She looked fantastic!

Nay to the officiant – she was full of bullshit with sayings like, “Look into her soul.” Gag.

Bride and Groom

Good work boys, with one swift slap on the ass she was "welcomed to the Navy."

Hey, who are those good-looking people? [Again, my hair...not playing well TODAY!] Okay, well either way, I was looking pale while Mr. Wookie was rockin' his Whites. I will say that tall people have weird issues with their neck when taking pictures. #guilty


But let's get to some Yays and Nays to the day!

Nay to the “old people” music at the Reception. There should be a point in the reception where all “air pirates” aka old people just leave and let the young people have their time with the dance floor. Instead, this didn't happen. It took pulling teeth to get Journey played. That should be a crime.

Yay to dancing with Mr. Wookie. Beverages in hand. To the good music.

  

Yay to the cake being DELICIOUS. This is a MUST for the Wookies. In fact, we stole took two extra pieces to indulge later on. And by later on, I mean breakfast the next morning.

Nay to not planning ahead to post-reception need for food/beverages. What do 4 people do who can’t drive without facing DUI charges? "Umm, hi, we'd like to order a pizza." Sadly that restaurant that I ate at Friday night isn't open on Sundays. #liverfailure

Yay to dancing barefoot all night long. I was slightly afraid that I would be considered a little redneck as I kicked my wedges off. Thank goodness the Bridesmaids followed suit.

  

Yay to scoring centerpieces at the bride’s request. Actually two...because I'm a klepto and can't say 'no' to free vases. And it was relatively easy traveling with them too!

Nay to the mahi-mahi in the dinner buffet being SEVERELY overcooked and resembling chicken. And Mr. Wookie's chicken resembled overcooked mahi-mahi.

Yay to a heaping salad serving at the Reception. I got the foliage I enjoy, with plenty of variation of accouterments to begin my meal. Yay, hippiness!

Yay to tweeting with ToTheNth and Sespi throughout the Reception despite focusing on having a ruckusy good time. I have priorities. While enjoying wedding receptions is one of them, discussing home brewing is also. I wish ToTheNth loads of luck in her journey!

Nay to people (no, not the bride and groom) we know ‘disappearing” for roughly 30 minutes mid-reception. Hmmm…. ;)

Yay to having a sweet suite at the BOQ for the weekend. I was able to get up at the crack of dawn like I like, go for a short run, enjoy my first breakfast of the day, while letting Mr. Wookie rot away like an old, abandoned corpse of yesteryear.

Yay to having a 30-yard “walk” from Reception site to room. Yes, stairs were navigated successfully, no drinks were spilled, and we promptly changed into jeans and shirts and debated our next move.

Nay to having to leave this beautiful place known as Monterey. We ARE planning a trip back because we didn't get to tackle what we wanted to off the "to do" list!

  

Nay to the Dress Whites being made of wool. That stuff gets warm for the poor boys.

Yay to not being accosted about “our time being next.”

Yay to our gift. Not to sound stuffy, but ours was a romantic night in with registered wine glasses to which we added our favorite vineyard’s specialty merlot and chocolates. If that doesn't make a baby, it'll at least provide great practice.

Yay to being invited to the rehearsal dinner. I’ve had a previous experience where the bride was…a…umm…bitch and didn’t invite me because Mr. Wookie and I weren’t engaged or already married. This happened to our mutual friends too. So we two ladies (girlfriends of groomsmen) made reservations at the exact same restaurant in the exact same room and we had dinner with just ourselves. We ordered wine, we laughed, we had a better time than the rehearsal dinner so much that the boys wanted to sit with us but Bridezilla forced them not to. That bride could suck my big toe...but I won't go there.

Yay to not having a bouquet toss or garter toss. Bride and Groom thought it unnecessary since most guests are in committed relationships (whether married or Wookie-style) and to nix them both. Sweet.

[Our only iPhone proof of the Reception]

So there you have it. One great weekend watching more people jump into matrimony while indulging ourselves with their fantastic receptions post-ring swap. I've already friended the Bride (per the Groom's request) and am itching to get back to Monterey for another weekend that doesn't involve white dresses and Dress Whites. She's in turn invited us back up to stay with them as they'd love to host such great guests.

Oh...."Hi, doggy hotel?...We have Sweet Pea, Party of Dog-Aggressive One."

It's Friday Fill-In and we're halfway thru June.

Want to know how to annoy me? Have me place my stout on the floor next to my feet, have the urge to pee, jump up, smack stout...spill stout everywhere.


Wah wah wah.


But enough about my Trail of Spilled-Beer Tears, let's get to those questions!


Or I could rant to you about my 90-minute massage yesterday. Apparently I have a slight curvature in my lower back spine, my left shoulder is higher than my right, and my right arm curves inward. But hot-damn my legs look good and have minimal issues thanks to utilizing them on crazy runs and races. I'm taking the back tension/shoulder misalignment that it's time for new sports bra. Oh darn, time to go shopping!


1.) Underwear Parties, how old is too old? It's come to reading some answers, people DON'T KNOW what an Underwear Party is (WHAT?!). Okay, it's a party where you just wear your underwear (that's the theme - you can wear a country Long John, you can wear skimpy, you can wear whatever). But that's it. You have to be in your underwear. You can't be modest or shy, you just have to go with it. Do we get it?
So this is my question....and while I haven't been to an underwear party since college (in which...well...it involved running around outside, away from the actual party...in our underwear....yes, the beverages were very strong that night). I'm just curious if they as a theme have ever made an appearance since college for others?


I'm always for themed parties, and being in your underroos is definitely a way to theme it up and make people feel awkward for the first beverage.


2.) What was your favorite class in high school?
Oh...that would be being an Aid for Mr. Dixon's Freshman Health Class. a.) I took attendance, that was about the most pivotal part of that class. b.) It was the class where all the immature 15-year-olds saw the STD slideshows and the vaginal birth video. I remember seeing the girls shocked when I was asked by the teacher, "Just to show them how comfortable you are, how much have you gained since freshman year?"  I said I had gained 10 lbs during my time in high school (omg, ten pounds, that's so much! What a whale!) - never mind gaining like 3 inches of height. Those girls were the ones that survived off Diet Coke and 3 saltines...a day.


3.) Have you ever convinced packers/movers to pack something they aren't supposed to for a PCS?
No - not yet! [We DiTY'd to California.] I can't wait to see people's answers though!


4.) Blogging plays a growing roll in the media. If you were asked to embed as a blogger with a deployed military unit, would you go? What do you think your blog would be like?
If someone wants me to cover their military unit, they might need therapy. But let's pretend people find me fascinating, covet my degree as much as I do, and will talk me through an alcohol-free deployment (gulp). Maybe... While I've been in the man's working world on a wildland firecrew in college (like where you hike up and down mountains putting out fires), it's a different.


My hesitation would lie in would it be worth it for everyone? I'm not classically trained in military survival, political science, behavioral therapy, or any other hard science. I have an English degree and a curiosity for Scotch. My best approach would be treating deployment like detox. And who really wants to read about that?


So while it'd be interesting to say you've deployed with a unit/team/squadron/paper pusher, I just don't know if it'd be my cup of tea really. Besides...someone needs to stay home with the dog and watch the vodka supply. ;)


5.) Do you think kids should attend year-round school?
No. I understand the greatness to Summer Break as a child and wouldn't want to take that away from other kids. There were bike rides, family trips, softball games, birthday parties, backyard camping, "Moon tanning" (I was gullible as a child), tree swings...it was awesome. I might have to reenact those when I get back to Oregon this summer. :)

first comes love...then comes wedding rehearsal...

So we made it to Monterey here. (Yay!)  Yes, I got ditched for Bachelor party shenanigans, which apparently wasn't Vegas-like as there's only one "nightclub" in the area where the boys had "bottle service." Side note: Mr. Wookie is an amazing wingman. He's Barney Stinson's ideal player. The man will play "catch and release" where he lures in the ladies while passing them off delicately to the available guys.  Top notch performance, always.

Anyways, like a good neighbor State Farm is there I set out two Advil and a bottle of water on the nightstand.

But he didn't need it. We just had to be ready for an 11am rehearsal on the grounds. 

The grounds were gorgeous. This base is fantastically old where the buildings are immaculate compared the shitty, run-down conditions we have down in just-north-of-Malibu. I'm jealous. So jealous. While this location would require Mr. Wookie to be back in a school-like atmosphere (compared to his online Master's program right now with Oklahoma University while working in an active squadron), *ahem* I wouldn't mind. :)

But that's a long road ahead of us. He'd have to want to stay in, we'd have to go through another sea tour, and then there are always options that differ from Monterey (like War College in Rhode Island - which could be an option).

In case you didn't know my personal attachment to the sword arch, it only included a handsome Mr. Wookie in his finest wool-blend heavy-ass dress whites complete with "man-sier" or "bro" to house that pesky knife that hangs from the left side. So around 10:30am or so, while waiting for the Groom to show up, the boys made sure their bra straps were inline before the bride arrived.

So how was the Bachelor Party for the Groom? Oh...he probably felt like death... considering he threw up a few times waiting for the cab after the nightclub. Yes, Mr. Wookie's shoe was a victim of said vomit. No, I didn't realize that when I saw them. Oh, and Mr. Wookie came home with his phone and the Groom's phone.

Back to the venue...the ceremony was held outside (fingers were freakin' crossed that the weather held) so we made our way down to watch the boys play with their swords (TWSS).

We're pretty sure none of the boys had ever done this before. Their first round was...rough.  Do I recommend  a sword arch for a wedding? Yes, it looks cool. But, logistically it's kind of a nightmare. For Mr. Wookie's sanity, skip it. Please. That and the damn "bra strap" for the sword cost $30. Overrated.

But then I got distracted. Caw caw! There are two peacocks that roam the grounds, caw on the grounds, wander through wedding rehearsals, and walk dangerously close to a hungry Gingy blogger named Mrs. Wookie.

I wonder what peacock tastes like? Chicken?

 

So like any wedding rehearsal, there had to be multiple takes. And with my..umm..."love" for weddings...the temperature was enough to bring me indoors and chatting with a fellow aviator/sword arch girlfriend from just-north-of-Malibu. 

I was pretty much ready for Sunday to come, because that meant it was Reception time! In between the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner, we ventured down to Cannery Row to pick up Mr. Wookie's vehicle that was ditched thanks to a safe cab ride back to base. Oh, and so much for "100% ID Checks." I pretty much could fart at the guard and he'd let us through.

We also made it to the tiny NEX (Navy Exchange) to pick up the rest of the wedding gift, a toothbrush for Mr. Wookie, a bottle of Scotch for us, and some waterproof mascara (in the slight hint that I felt emotional towards any of this). Did I cry? Of course not.

i interrupt the delay of wedding posting with this

[source]

Umm...this picture is fantastic. While I'm not a hockey fan at all (only ESPN highlights for the fights), I love this picture. Love. this. picture. Would I be caught rompin' on a bare street amidst rioting masses? Umm, probably not. Unless it involves Oregon State...then I'm not responsible...although we're pretty anti-PDA in the Wookie & Co. household.

This is totally buying me time from blogging the past weekend's wedding, right?

Because you're totally letting me catch up on the post-travel laundry pile, right?

a wedding teaser from Naval Postgraduate School

Let me whet your appetite while I'm busy finding food options for *ahem* people who can't drive thanks to a wedding reception and a bar fully stocked with all the essentials.

The men looked dapper. Obviously I'm partial to Mr. Wookie. But they all looked amazing.

The wedding season has BEGUN!

This morning the plan was to finish packing, clean up the house, and hit the road. Instead...(because travel can never be that easy)...I lounged around and read some blogs, I played with Sweet Pea, then decided to move my ass in the right direction.

It didn't really matter. Mr. Wookie got hung up at work despite having leave authorized for a half day. Uncle Sam gets what he needs. Always.

This weekend has taken us North in California to the bustling village of Monterey, California, where Naval Postgraduate School is located. It's. freakin'. adorable. here.

I love it. And I've been here less than 4 hours.

Mr. Wookie could come here possibly after his second sea tour, but that would be making the decision to "career it" in the Navy vs. hang up the flight suit and work in the real world. That's his decision to make when that time comes. I wouldn't complain at all.

And you may be thinking, "Where's my sweet English bulldog??"

Gulp. Puppy hotel. My first. And a slightly emotional experience. We were recommended a great place that also had the resources to put her in her own private yard (a yard!) since she's not dog friendly. She was all wags on the car ride, but once there you could sense the jig was up. What the fuck, woman? What did I do to deserve this? Nothing my dear girl. We'll be back Monday to get your slobbering self and have you back home. Trust us. You can't get rid of us that easy. We sought you out...we're keeping your cute ass.

After dropping her off and coming home, it confirmed that I don't like the quiet house anymore. I love the squeaker ball noise, the ferocious barks when the gardeners are outside (really dog? We live a floor up.), her ability to sleep through doorbells, and avid crop-dusting through the house.

Yes, her anti-dog behavior can be a massive pain in the ass. But we're giving her the best home she could ever imagine. Plus she's a cute ass piece of shit. Cute I tell ya!

So now I'm lounging in the BOQ (Bachelor Officer Quarters) at NPS watching Dual Survival. Where's Mr. Wookie? At the Bachelor Party. Yup. I was ditched for dinner and drinks. Yup. I'm on base. Yup. I can't leave. Yup. I got take-out from the small semi-Officer's Club that's attached to the BOQ. Yup. I'm having a beer now (I pack for trips with hydration in mind). Yup, the pizza was meh but the "side salad" was fantastic. It was huge and cheap. That's what she said. Just the way I like it.

We were really set up this time at the BOQ. The groom blocked out some sweet suites that we'll be housing this weekend. We're a 30-yard "stumble" from the Reception site (awesome), we're on the end of the floor, and we have a great kitchen to make breakfast the next morning (I packed soy-gurt, cereal, and fruit for my first breakfast of the day. My second breakfast will come when Mr. Wookie rises later.).

And thank goodness I didn't pack a bottle opener. Because I would have never found these three openers in the drawer. I don't know whether to be proud of this place or worried? I'm going with proud. For now. The Navy does know how to get things done.


That and so do I. I'll be setting out ibuprofen and a glass of water on Mr. Wookie's nightstand should festivities get a little out of hand tonight.

Milspouse #44 and all that jazz...*jazz hands*

Oh, good morning. Friday, you're here again. Do you know how much I'm never ready for you? It's like HURRY UP AND RELAX! I feel so obligated to do nothing on Fridays, yet that never happens. I'm always looking forward to the weekend and enjoying it with Mr. Wookie. So that means Fridays is usually a "cleaning" day (we use that term loosely around here). So obviously Friday is a love/hate day. Thursdays are way better. Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?


1.) When you vacation, what type of vacation do you like to take (beach, historic, adventurous, food-oriented, etc.)?
It just depends - my favorite are non-touristy vacations. I like off-seasons. a.) I hate tourists. b.) Prices are usually lower. c.) I don't want to have to strangle some family because they're toddler is ruining my good time.


When we went to DisneyWorld, it was after school had started AND on weekdays.
When we visited Napa and Sonoma, it was late summer AND on weekdays.
When we went to Ocracoke and Outer Banks, it was before the "summer season."


But to answer the question, all of the above. As long as I have sunscreen for the beach, comfy lesbian shoes for the walking, and a back-up liver for food beer-oriented travels, I'll be good.


2.) What is your best memory associated with a song?
Umm..."Pour Some Sugar on Me"...[face palm]...it's the Halloween party Mr. Wookie and I met at. It would be another 3 weeks or so until I met the famed Mommy McD (yes, we go WAY back!).


3.) If you had six months with no obligations or financial constraints, what would do with your time?
I'd travel the world, literally. I'd carve out a path from Scotland, through Transylvania, maybe down to South Africa (avoiding the pirates, arg!), through Turkey, Russia, Mongolia, down to Cambodia....you get the picture. That's it.


I'm quite good at scoffing off looking like an American - that is until I order a beer. Then the jig is up.


4.) What is one thing about you that people do NOT typically notice at first that you wish they would?
Errr.......(crickets).......(grasshoppers?)........(barn owl)........(air)...I've.got.nothing.


5.) It's a summer of sequels, and if you had to live in one of each of the following "worlds," which would you choose and why?
-X-Men Nope.
-Harry Potter Wouldn't dare see it or read it.
-Twilight Are you kidding me?
Anchorman: I know the sequel is still in talks, but I've got the role of "Tits McGee" down.


I love scotch, scotch, scotch, scotch. Brick, where'd you get a grenade? I don't know.

where mrs. wookie organizes the chaos

Technically. Although this bed has seen better days where it actually has sheets and a blanket made up and not piles of laundry. You see, we're on the brink of Wedding Season for the Wookie & Co. crowd so the laundry is a busy stream of production.


Mr. Wookie's been gone so the bed usually falls into disarray because he's not home to care. I give myself free license to DO WHATEVER. Keeping the "home fires" lived in.


But now he's home. He's added a pile of dirty clothes to the pile and the remaining stinky boxers, blue shirts, and flight suits. And there's packing for this next trip that's on the horizon.


That horizon is tomorrow.

O2O Half Marathon: I came, I ran, I conquered

Nay to running alone. NO ONE came to the rescue to watch Running Buddy's kids since the squadron decided to WONK up everyone's schedule. I even offered to throw an extra $20 at ANYONE who'd watch the kids. No dice.

Nay to the "photographer" who took my pre-race picture. I had to crop myself to center. The poor guy shot mostly the background overpass. Skilled...I tell ya.

Nay to the bathroom 'sitch at the start. Per the Race Director, he paid the City to open the bathrooms. They failed. They'll be receiving a NastyGram courtesy of Mrs. Wookie. Even though I didn't have to even pee, the City needed to be on their game.

Yay to the eco-conscious theme of the race. Everything was e-communicated.

Nay to only 2 water stations.

Nay to double-loop routes. Yes, you hit those 2 water stations twice, but it wasn't enough.

Yay to carrying my own water bottle. Suckas!

Nay to mile 8.5. You nearly were the death of me. You nearly made me DNF/DOR (did not finish/drop on request). I about called it quits.

Yay to having balls that said, "Suck it you up whiny piece of shit, you're over halfway done."

Nay to my Clif shotblocks not opening. Amidst running, and trying to chew open the container, it wouldn't budge. This nearly spiraled me into a fit of tears. What can I say? I was a little emotional apparently.

Yay to my knee not having any issues! Thank you God and Running Angels!

Nay to losing complete sensation in my right calf with a mile left. That was weird.

Yay to free gel on the course. I then threw it at my car when I passed it on the loop.

Nay to forgetting about the gel that I threw at my car and drove off post-race without it.

Yay to the medal being recycled metal product. Yay, go green!

Yay to Mr. Wookie finding my sunglasses the night before - they had been missing!

Nay to being lapped at exactly 5.65 miles. Fucking elites.

Nay to the sun breaking through and launching the temperature.

Nay to being stricken with stomach rot post-race. I wasn't pretty. It took a shower, a heating pad, and a 4-hour nap to semi-cure me of feeling like I had a symbiote forcing it's way from behind my liver.

Yay to Running Buddy capturing the moment of my kick to the finish line!

Yay to "Hey Running Buddy, make sure my legs look skinny in this picture." Done.

Yay to hitting my time goal of sub-2:30. Official race time: 2:25:22. Mother effin' ya!!!


And yay to a glorious 9 hours of sleep last night. Boom-chaka-laka! Mother effin' rested!

O2O Half: I wasn't nervous until today.

Ways Mrs. Wookie trains for her second half marathon:


- Instill a running buddy to share your pain/fun, meet them for long runs with their stroller, bring them donuts for fuel, and gab over a smoothie with post-run boob sweat making all the cool kids jealous.


- Own 2 sports bras, have 1 crap out with 2 weeks to go, so wash the only functioning sports bra after every run and pray it will make it until you can order more.


- Attend a Bail on the Friday night before a Sunday morning half marathon.


- Swear you're only going to have a couple beverages at the Bail. Lie to yourself. Have a few more. Get TACKLED like a linebacker by one of the JOPA. Dance your ASS OFF to tunes. Swear yourself away from the cigar smoke, believing one small secondhand whiff will defeat your training. Jump like a Masai warrior to Lady Gaga.


- Realize you need to get home, it's late, so you stop drinking around Midnight. The party doesn't stop for another few more hours, leaving you ample time to sober up and realize, "Shit, I'm running on Sunday."


- Panic amidst sleep because of this decision.


- Decide "Fuck it." Bails are important. Bail are huge functions that occur when squadron mates have orders for their next duty station. They're exalted, then mocked, then gifted  with flair for their next tour. Then mayhem may or may not break out.


- Get extra sleep to make up for it. Drug and heat pad your lower back since the tackle seemed to take it's toll. And drink nothing but water to help hydrate because you're a "serious" runner after all. Or at least a runner who realizes her role and the importance of a cohesive Navy squadron. 


- Pray to God and the Angels of Running that my right knee holds it together. I don't know whether it's an IT band issue or "Runner's Knee," but Thursday's 2 miles of taper brought back the ache on the side that I felt during our 11.5-mile run a couple weeks back.


- Receive a disastrous text from Running Buddy. Due to changes in weekend work schedules with our squadron (Mr. Wookie included), her husband isn't available to watch their kids. She offers a FREAKIN' kidney to score a last-minute sitter. No dice.


- Hold back tears when you realize you're running alone.


- Offer your trunk space, Goldfish crackers, capri suns, and chloroform as an alternative babysitter so Running Buddy doesn't waste 3 months of training.


- Find a giant spatula to scrape my shit together. Many people run alone. Runners are friendly. I have tunes. I will be fine. I think.

Start slow. Taper off from there. Hydrate afterwards.

Who schedules an 0745 promotion???

Who's now officially an LT?? Mr. Wookie! Technically speaking his commissioning date was late May, but we're just now getting to the ceremony of it all. I was definitely more excited this morning than he because we've waited so long to not be a lowly Ensign (O-1) or almost-there Junior Grade (O-2).


So you weren't a reader back when he was promoted to LTJG Wookie, read here!


And in keeping with tradition of never having these things scheduled in advance, this morning's promotion was supposed to be Wednesday afternoon, then it got moved to Thursday because of some "freedom defending" exercises, then it was back to Wednesday, but was moved to Friday morning because that was the only availability.


This blogger doesn't like to operate on 0745 promotion timeframes. Oh wait, Uncle Sam doesn't give a shit and will make me wake up at 5am in order to look gorgeous (you have to say it like Barbra Streisand though).


I'm just very happy Mr. Wookie let me join in on the festivities. He's not one for hoopla-ing his rank or a "Go Navy!" attitude. Instead, he quietly performs the duties of his responsibilities with the utmost best of his abilities. He's not one to boast or brag unless it involves his beverage-making skills (he will vocalize that). So I wasn't surprised when he said, "Woman, you don't even have to come." [Yes, he speaks to me like that. Yes, I call him, "Man" in return.] Yes, I know I don't have to...I WANT to. I wanted to follow this lifestyle and I'm happy to do so. He makes me happy, proud, and everything not-stereotypical to the Navy life. [Woah, heavy on the sap, eh?]


Let's just get to the shiny new gear.

 

Since this is a functioning squadron and not a training squadron (where everyone is around the same age), there are a wide array of commissioning dates. So only Mr. Wookie and one other squadronmate were promoted today. Normally it's a big deal with lots of promotions, beverages served (I love this), and some sort of food afterwards at the Officer's Club. But here in just-north-of-Malibu, it was a down and dirty ceremony and business as usual afterwards. There were no beverages, no lunches, and there is no "O-Club" here. Not that we're regular frequenters.

I'm a little butt-hurt my hair looks haggard, but I guess I'll get over that. I promise I straightened it this morning. The Commanding Officer aka the "Skipper" is a great guy who help me with the other side as I fumbled with the "frogs" (the back pinning of the insignia). I was paranoid in making sure the new "train tracks" weren't lop-sided. Plus, the holes went in the complete opposite direction than the singular "JG" bar. So there was no using the same 2 holes (that's what she said)!

Fun fact: These are Mr. Wookie's original ROTC khakis and the same name tag. He hates khakis despite being a "brown shoe" (aka an aviator - they have brown shoes vs. non-aviation Navy black shoes). He hates any uniform other than his flight suit. Okay, this may be where Mr. Wookie boasts about his Navy lifestyle just a little.

Post-promotion I tried to get pictures of us in front of his aircraft, but sadly they were being pulled out for flights as we got down to the hangar. What the heck? I'm important too! So those pictures will have to wait. Boo.


And traditionally there's the "wetting down" party which includes taking the difference of new monthly pay amount vs the old monthly pay amount and throwing a party. The few promotion groups this Spring plan on joining forces (like Captain Planet) because a bigger budget makes for a better function (we agree). These functions are usually alcohol-fueled where costumes are the norm, embarrassing stories are created, and cameras aren't permitted. So that'll occur later, hopefully not when we have a race on the horizon and vacations in the pipeline. Because I want to enjoy too, dammit.


I know I fielded quite the "So what are you going to do with the extra money now?" line up of questions. Apparently sometimes Knives (aka Wives) have a firm clasp on the bank account and only give their husbands allowances (WTF?). We're not like that.


What are we going to do with it? Be smart about it. Mr. Wookie wasn't lucky enough to get a 4-year scholarship during his stint in ROTC, so instead he took out student loans for the first 2 years like a lot of other people. He needed to survive. So that "extra" monthly income is just more money towards his student loans. I was a bit different; I paid for college from working on a wildland fire team (you make serious money) and with help from my parents, so I didn't have student loans.


That's what I'm going to do with the money. Support him in becoming debt-free.