Because otherwise I'd have to kill you...

This is probably the post that I should have posted the day I started this blog. Read on.

I'm an Army wife. My husband is in the Army, not me. Which means I don't have rank-he does. I refuse to be one of the wives who thinks her shit doesn't stink just because of her husband's rank. I hope I have remained grounded the last 13 years.

Anyway, what I really want to say is this...

I really, really wish I could tell you things. Things about Adam and his work and such. I know you are curious because you are just as proud of him as I am, but honestly, I can't say stuff I wish I could. For the most part, this is because I really don't know.

It's hard for not to share this stuff, such as deployment and redeployment dates. That stuff is usually so up in the air I would just be wasting my breath if I told you anyway. It's hard to keep it all in, when I know sharing with family and friends would make me feel better. It's always nice to commiserate. In this case, I can't. That sucks.

I do not know anything about what Adam has done overseas. This is for my own sanity. Knowing he is not done deploying for several years makes me stick my head in the sand. If I knew what he actually did, I would be a nervous wreck for the entire deployment. I always say I prefer to see him sitting on a bunk somewhere, staring longingly at my picture. That's how I see him overseas, and that's how I get through it mentally.

Not to say I'm not curious. I am a curious person by nature. I've told Adam the day he retires, we're going to get a couple cases of beer, and he's going to tell me everything he ever did overseas, every detail, until he's done. Whether this takes one hour or one week I don't care. I know he's got great stories and I look forward to hearing them someday.

Know that I'm not trying to be cagey when I seem to skirt around your questions. It's just that if by the small slip of my tongue caused harm to anyone or anything, I could never forgive myself. My top priority (besides the Boy, of course) is making sure Adam and his entire unit are safe. I know that's understandable.

Because it's Paula Deen, y'all...

It's no secret I have a mad girl crush on Paula Deen. I started watching her on the Food Network and realized she cooked real food, food I can make. Real meals, ones with recipes that I know all the ingredients too, and know I can actually find them at the Food Lion.

So of course moving to Savannah was like a dream come true. Paula lives here.

Well, today was one of the best days ever. I finally ate at The Lady and Sons, Paula's restaurant in Savannah.

As a "local" I was able to call in for priority seating, which is what you have to do if you have a party of less than 10, since you can't get a reservation. Regular people have to go wait in line and put their name in for priority seating, but not me, I can call that in, bitches.

All I have to say about the food is WOW. It wasn't just a party in my mouth, it was an orgy. Mind you, this is coming from the girl who only eats to keep my blood sugar above a non-bitch level. Eating is a nuisance to me. But oh lordy, this was some gooood food.

We all left with fuller than full bellies. We all came home and had to take a nap. And now, almost 7 hours later, I'm still not hungry.

Thank you, Paula, for a wonderful meal. I'll be sure to be back as soon as possible!

Because I really, really want to go back...

One week ago today, the Nash family was in the truck, on our way to Disney World. We picked up my brother-in-law from his hotel and proceeded to have five fun-filled days, riding awesome rollercoasters and doing the whole Disney experience.

I want to go back.

While we were relaxing in our hotel room at the awesome Caribbean Beach Resort (it would have been more awesome without me trying to squeeze by the big-ass ugly ducks and asking them kindly to please don't bite me), I ruminated out loud, "Could you possibly live at Disney World? You know, like how some people live in hotels? If you're rich, can you just live at a Disney hotel for like a year?"

No one had a good answer for this. So for now I'm going to focus on winning the lottery so I can live at WDW. A girl can dream, right?

Because you truly suck, DirecTV

Dear DirecTV,
I have a HD receiver that was recalled last fall. Funny, you never let me know about it, and I never would have known but I Googled my model number and bingo! Recall. Most of the other people got a phone call or a letter. Not me. Gee thanks. Strike one.

Strike two-the reason I say this is because my receiver, which I've had for two years, is on it's last legs. I have to reset it a few times a day, interrupting my precious television watching. The picture freezes, or when I change the channel, no picture and no sound show up. I'm just glad I found out about the recall, otherwise I'm sure you'd try to charge me for a new one, just like you tried to charge me on the FIRST bill for three free months of premium channels.

And now, the kicker. I've been trying to call since yesterday. Apparently they have those cube-sized Macs like Jerry Seinfeld, because they've been updating since yesterday. They cannot access customers' accounts. Whatch you talkin' 'bout Willis? Seriously? How can a company as big as DirecTV have such crappy customer service?

I waited to call them, because every experience I've ever had sucks more than my vacuum. They are truly stupid. Once in awhile, the gods smile down on me and I get a coherent person, with a personality, who is more than willing to help me. For the most part, I get a representative who apparently is working there to pay off the lobotomy they just got the previous day.

If I wasn't such a rabid, tattoo-sporting member of Red Sox Nation, this craptastic satellite service would be gone faster than you can say boo. But it's my only way to watch the Sox, every day and as often as possible (which is quite a lot).

I'll drive on. And I will try my hardest not to be the rudest, meanest bitch if I so happen to get Lobotomy Larry the next time I call. Honestly.

Because I'm 17 again...

Think back to when you were 17. You were on top of the world, invincible as hell and couldn't wait to grow up and be a real adult.

How many of us would love to feel like that 17 year old again, because we now know what it's like to be a real grown up?

I've been married to an amazing man for almost 13 years. I've totally jipped him out of a lot of me. Yet he's stuck around.

I've got issues, you've got issues, we've all got issues. I have abandonment issues. But when I was 17, I gave myself, all of myself, to someone else, and I ended up crushed and broken at the age of 19, not the same person I was before.

Since then, it's been hard for me to give me, all of me, to anyone else.

I had much time to think with all the driving I did in the past few weeks. What the hell am I doing? I'm screwing up the most perfect relationship with the most perfect man because I couldn't get past something that happened so long ago.

But that's changed. I'm proud to announce the new me, the improved me, the one that will give all of her, heart and soul and body, to her husband. I will no longer hide, afraid of anything.

Hear me roar.

Because I need to vent...

I'm getting up on my soapbox, so if a little anger bothers you, go ahead and go, my feelings will not be hurt.

Here's the deal-we lived on Fort Benning for almost 13 years, surrounded by other military folks. When we moved to Savannah in January, it was weird living among civilians. Nice, but weird.

I realize now that I was sheltered at Fort Benning. I wasn't aware of what happens in the real world. People get divorced, do drugs, work hard and play hard. Not so different from the military community, but where I had lived there wasn't a lot of that.

This is where I need to vent. Most of our friends are civilians. Fine, I don't base my friends on what their job is. Most of them don't know a lick about military life. Okay, so it's my job to educate them.

I explained about Adam's deployments, the length and frequency of them. I've heard a few times, "Oh, that's not too bad. At least it's not 15 months."

I understand that 15 months must suck. But that's not how Adam's unit works. We're lucky enough that it's just a few months at a time, but it's also once a year that these deployments happen.

I want to scream. I want to ask them, "How about you put yourself in my shoes, when you wake up worrying and go to bed worrying for every day of that deployment about your husband? Why don't you parent your child alone, with no family around to help. Then come back and tell me, oh, that's not bad."

I'm not feeling sorry for myself. It's just that if you haven't been through it, you don't know, and telling me that it's not that bad insults me. Have you ever had to go buy a new washing machine on Christmas Eve by yourself, and get your friend to help you bring it in the house and set it up yourself? Then shut it. Have you had to put on a brave face for your 5-year-old son on Christmas morning, when he's opening his presents and your husband is listening through the phone, and it's killing you he's not there?

I know parents who are divorced go through a lot of same things. I have friends who are divorced. But their husband/wife is around to take care of the kids when they can't, or they have family who can relieve them of their parental duties now and then. I don't have that luxury.

My mom has taught me to never minimize someone else's problems or their pain. What might seem silly to you might be huge to me. I might think you're a loon because you lost your favorite pair of undies, but if they mean something to you, then shame on me for thinking that way.

The best advice I can give is to listen, just listen to a military spouse when they talk. You might hear through our bravado our pain, our pride, and our fear. Don't attempt to minimize our feelings. They are very real.