That’s Private “Stupid Bitch” To You…

Last Friday, I was sent to MEPS where I was grouped with about fourty teenagers who aspired to wear camo for a living. (Nothing like a bunch of baby-faces to make a 24-year-old feel AGED.) We spent the whole day doing rediculous things like filling out duplicate copies of The Story of Our Lives, and doing the Duck Waddle… in our underwear… IN FRONT OF EVERYONE. There were several other embarrassing things that occurred thereafter, but at the end of the day, the physician dubbed me healthy and I was sworn into the military. I was poked and prodded so much that I feel like I should be sending them a Christmas card since WE KNOW EACH OTHER LIKE THAT AND ALL.

Anyway, so I’m in for the next 6 years at least. Why? Because I’m 24 and I’m not any smarter than the day I graduated high school. I never went to college… but it’s something I really want. And if the Army’s going to pay for it, then I’ll bust my butt in trade. I scored high enough on my entrance exams to go into whatever field I want, and the MOS I ended up picking is in a unit here in Little Rock that isn’t even ELEGIBLE for deployment until 2010. By then, I’ll be in school full-time under a ROTC contract which would make me untouchable until I graduated. That’s just part of the grand scheme of things- it doesn’t include my $20,000 bonus or my GI kicker or the other extras. So imagine my surprise when a friend of mine, after hearing the good news, turned to me and said, “You stupid bitch.”

I’m sorry, say what? I totally had to pick my jaw off the floor and all I could do was say, “What?!”

“I said… you… stupid… BITCH.”

How do you react to that, really? Somebody let me know, because once I lifted my jaw off the floor for the second time, I told him clearly and calmly that if he ever spoke to me again like that I would introduce him to the wrong end of a baseball bat.

I never got an explanation for his outburst because we haven’t spoken since, but I still have a few more people to break the news to, and now I’m not sure how to go about doing that. What if they have the same ill feelings towards me and my career choice? Until that one reaction, I didn’t even think that there were people in this world that would hate on me for enlisting. This was a huge decision that I mulled over a million times in my mind, but that sort of disrespect wasn’t something I averaged into the equation. Especially from someone who I thought was my friend.

I’m definately upset about this. I was really excited for the opporitunity to better myself and now the only thing I can think about is “you stupid bitch”. So for anyone ELSE out there who has a problem with me for the sole fact that I’m now in the military, please keep it to yourself.

Because I really don’t want to hear it.

Luck be not always a lady…

Last night I sat around the card table with [most of] the usual crowd of cash players. (I’m aware that gambling isn’t the best thing I could be doing since the future of my income level is undetermined, but there’s a level of comfort I find in seeing the same faces and hearing the same smack talk every weekend. Plus, leaving $120 up doesn’t hurt my situation either.)

Most of the guys that play poker are your typical everyday dudes that just want to escape from their day life and hang out with people who aren’t their wives or kids or bosses. It’s not about money as it is about retaining one’s sanity, but with every orchard, there’s bound to be a few rotten peices of fruit. And when I say that, I’m already thinking of one: Bob*

Bob* showed up to the game last week with a girl about my age in tow. She was very attractive, very pleasant, very DRUNK, and very dishevelled. I noticed a few guys exchange glances with each other when they saw her hair was freshly matted and her sweater was on inside out. He casually introduced her as his girlfriend, Megan*, and she sat giggling at his side for the remainder of the night.  When Bob* didn’t show up for the next night’s game of poker, we <ahem> naturally assumed why. But when he didn’t show up again last night, then we got a little inquizitive.

Turns out, everyone was okay with the little girfriend… except his wife. (Yeah, he was married. And no, I didn’t know until I heard the story about how his wife found a pair of butt floss in his truck that weren’t her own.)

And when he showed up to the game finally, I wondered if he felt like that kid in school that dropped his tray in front of the whole cafeteria just a LITTLE TOO LOUDLY, because all 6 of us at the table turned and looked. Some of those looks were of concern, and a couple of them were of amusement.

But I think Lady Luck must’ve been just as pissed at him as his wife because Bob* had some issues holding onto his money that night. (You know how chicks like to stick together like that.) I can proudly say I walked away with a fraction of it. And, though I can’t ever admit it to The Guys, I feel like winning his money was a symbolic gesture for the estrogen homefront, you know?

Lesson of the week weak: KARMA IS A BITCH. 

*Obviously, names have been changed. Duh, right?

Um, hire me…?

There’s been several rumors flying around my work about the possible employee cuts the company is expected to carry out due to the economy SUCKING BEYOND BELIEF. These have been going on for some time, so I wasn’t surprised to find out this past week that my job would be one of them. As of this coming Friday, I’m officially out of a job.

The silver lining is I know quite a few people who are in the position (career-wise) to help me out with this issue. Most of my poker buddies are managers or business owners and have thrown an offer or two on the table for me. A couple other people are “going to check with their people” and get back to me, but I’ll have to wait until Monday to see if anything pans out…

The other side of this whole (un)employment problem is that I was getting my act together to go back to school for an IMBA in International Business over at UCA. I can snag some tuition assistance, but they’re not going to cover the full cost. Definately rotten timing for all this to be going down, you know?

I’m trying not to completely freak out about this because, although I’m not an extremely religious person, I believe God would not close a door without at least opening a window.

It’s just that hopefully that said “window”  isn’t on the sixtieth floor or anything…