Pet Peeves & Idiosyncrasies

Anyone who knows me knows that I can’t stand the sound of people eating. Or animals eating. Or animals drinking. Or any sound that comes out of a mouth that isn’t, you know, talking or singing. This was mostly ingrained in me by my mother… to this day it almost makes me nauseous to sit next to people who chew with their mouth open—too bad I’m in the military, huh?

Anyways, I’m sure we all have our little quirks, but I have noticed a few other odd tendencies in myself.  For example: My socks must always match. Sure, they’re all black socks… but they have different textures, different styles etc, and if they aren’t the same brand of sock, I can’t wear them together. Hubs does because he doesn’t care, and thinking about, say, my socks coming up to a different length of each of my legs, well that just drives me bonkers. Auntie has gotten into the Mismatched Socks from [a company I forget] and I think I could maybe stand that… because the socks are built the same. They just have different patterns on them. I did one time wear one pink ankle sock with one blue ankle sock and the world did not end.

Also, I have to put my socks on—and shoes too—right foot first. Then left foot. Anything else just feels wrong.

I still haven’t decided if it’s nature or nurture, but people who casually stroll piss me off. I walk with purpose, from point A to point B. Even if I’m not sure where it is I’m going. But that just… inability to care… let me tell you, in a busy place like this, it gets old quick. If you throw off my walking pace, you are automatically an asshole. And that is multiplied by however much heavy stuff I’m carrying at the time. I mean for real, if you know someone is behind you, the least you can do is get out of their way!

Also, hold the door open for people walking after you. It’s not difficult. It seems odd that here, I appear to be graced with superhuman situational awareness, while at home I am just derp de derp hurrrr.

Sorry for all the emphatics, and also for the Brit tone. I just finished Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency. It was lovely, but I dare say, the voice did rub off on me a touch. Heh.  

psycho

Nutrigrain bar-                120 cal

Ostrich jerky-                 ??? cal

Coffee with creamer-       030 cal

Brown rice-                    120 cal per serving

Tuna-                            060 cal

Sirracha-                       005 cal                          =400 ish calories

 

 

Estimated RMR [that’s resting metabolic rate, the calories we burn by just existing, for example if we never got out of bed] 1500

 

Gym plan:         30 minutes on elliptical

                        30 minutes on bike

                        ?   minutes on row machine

 

I’ve got 10 minutes left on this episode of Game of Thrones, and I’m about halfway through season 1. That might get me through the week.

 

Gonna skip dinner for a nap most likely, I have a late watch so I’ll grab some meat & salad then.

 

You ever have one of those days where you break everything you touch? Firefox won’t load, even .mil sites on Explorer won’t load [shudder]. Havent been able to get myfitnesspal.com        or dailymile.com to load out here. I also managed to break the microwave for about ten minutes. Twice now. Must be giving off so much negative vibes that even electronics are picking htem up.

 

Well, I successfully taught myself how to knit, I suppose it’s about time to move on to guitar now.

Been A While

Again, hard to write since there’s really not much going on.

 

UN-official weigh in’s today… so far I’ve lost 5 inches [combined hips and waist] and dropped 10 pounds. It’s a far cry from the other FORTY pounds I need to lose technically. Trying hard not to get discouraged. I know I haven’t been up to snuff. It’s just been one thing after another. But I pretty much have a free pass to work out all day, so hopefully soon I can actually devote more time to this, instead of an hour three times a week, which is obviously not cutting it. It’s just up to me to take advantage of it I guess.

 

In other news, knitting is mostly on hold, don’t seem to have as much time anymore.

Dirk Gently is a great book and reminds me of a British I <3 Huckabees.

 

Oh, the one thing I’ve been meaning to write about, if I haven’t already… it never fails, but every time we leave port, I start getting white hairs. When I got home last time, they went away and didn’t come back. Lo and Behold, we leave, I start going grey. First time it happened was bootcamp.

So Much Nothing...

Sorry if this photo is a repost, but this is the yarn stash I brought with me on the boat. The dark red one is done, the blue and black one is done, the fluffy yellow/green/purple is done, and the Lily is done too. I just started on that funky turquoise. I had to stop knitting in bed because it hurts my hands too bad… so I started reading some Douglas Adams instead. I am thoroughly enjoying that, even if I can only sneak a couple chapters at a time. I might just be borderline narcoleptic. 

 

Well, we’ve been at sea for three weeks straight now, and away from home for a solid month. It sucks. There’s not even really anything to write about, really, but today I felt like trying. I can’t quite get on a regular schedule, and some of you can imagine how nuts that drives me. I did really good on my diet for a few days, lots of water and nothing but veggies and chicken… but then I slipped once and opened the floodgates. I think it started with a half a baked potato… and then they served mac-n-cheese for three days straight… and lately they’ve had sweet potato fries, and those aren’t as bad as regular potatoes, right? ;)

 

I’ve got 46 days left, so it’s time to focus. We’ll see how that goes. Fat Camp doesn’t seem to be helping much. A week or two ago—when I was eating right—I noticed a big difference. I have a two-pack now [and I don’t mean my butt, for all you navy people!] but it is squishy. I need to update my dailymile. It’s hard to find a machine here unless you want to wait in line for a half hour. They have a row machine in the forward gym, and bikes too, I’m thinking about making those regular visits. I also got some Insanity/P90X/whichever from a buddy, and I found a nice little quiet store room that is REALLY HOT where I can take my yoga mat and go work out. And also, free hot yoga [lol]. That is, until someone tells me not to.

 

So yeah, my day pretty much amounts to killing time, waiting for shit to break [I did have a fun adventure in a very hot dome with a very big satellite dish], working out, being grumpy, reading, knitting, and scrolling through facebook with nothing interesting to say for myself.

 

 

Mixed Feelings

-----Original Message-----
From: Hubs
To: IC4.5

 

your dad posted:

 

Sleep well and enjoy your freedom America, my daughter is on watch aboard the USS [XXXX] underway to the Gulf.

 

today.

 

Just thought you'd like to know.

 

 

From: IC4.5

To: Hubs

What time did he post that? It would be funny if I really was on watch, although it's not the glamorous, noble duty he makes it out to be. Touching, but also slightly... [something]... and also intimidating, ominous...

 

----End Message-----

 

Lots of mixed feelings. Haven’t been having a good day already, since 4 am my time. Hoping this particular exchange isn’t something I/we/you look back on later in any sort of context... but it seems to me like wicked foreshadowing. I just find it funny because my “watch” entails waiting for someone to complain that their tv reception is shitty. Then I go look at it and tell them there’s not much I can do. But anyways.

 

I only vaguely heard about some bombings. It scares me how people here tend to brush everything off. A lot of people do not take a lot of things seriously. I know I’m new and I missed everything last time, but when you start running drills and issuing gear and giving me smallpox and anthrax vaccines and having me submit the info the SEALs would need to extricate me a la Act of Valor, THAT SHIT FREAKS ME OUT. I know it’s normal. I know it’s routine. But JFC people, look around you.  This shit ain’t a joke. Maybe it’s because I’m older, but, like Doc Brown says, there’s a problem with the Earth’s gravity, everything has gained extra mass, this shit is HEAVY. I don’t like where this is going. Please please please don’t let that be prophetic. Please please please don’t let me flash back on this like déjà vu.

 

Stream of Consciousness.

I don’t know how we found it in the middle of all this blue nothingness, but that little piece of home was just what I needed. I just wanted to be near the rain again, the real haze grey. Ocean as far as you can see, covered in a dense white fog rolling in from nowhere. Passage of time and space irrelevant. ‘In transit’ is vague at best. Down the rabbit hole to a groundhog’s day existence, for the next eternity of your life. There is no future, no past, just now. And I keep thinking… I’ll leave that part out. The phrase ‘a vast expanse’ could not have a better illustration. I just wanted to be near the rain, to hear that pitterpatter, feel the cool wet breeze, and smell that sweetness. I would have settled for the sour salt, but that was absent too. And so it stands, water upon water has no smell. I suppose I miss the smell of the earth, the feel of your arms.

 

It was good to be alone for a moment, out of the three rings of this never ending zoo. Evolution? Ha, yeah right. I wish Darwin had been right. We’d be a leaner, meaner species for it. It was the good kind of alone, not the lonely alone. It was a soothing quiet, except for the desperate-sounding fog blasts. And even those were a mellow, melancholy interruption. I can still hear the rain in my head, where it is also gray and dreary. I could never live somewhere it didn’t rain. In the south, with the big fat drops that soaked you in thirty seconds and the booming thunder and crackles of lightning; or in the northwest with its quiet, constant drizzle. Dear God, don’t take me away. In my heaven it will be raining, haha.

 

One of these days I suppose everything will make sense. And if I’m lucky, I will have few regrets. I still have time to correct most of the ones I do have. I just want to stand out and be appreciated—but for the right things, the things that matter. Not, “serving your country” and all that patriotic hogwash. I want to be important; I want to be the best at something. But in my quest for perfection, I only manage a shambling, half-assed forgery at anything and everything. The things I really enjoy seem so trivial and inconsequential. It’s strange to think about this place-time I’m in… so hard to look forward, so hard to look back, trying to think about looking back from the future. This has become a philosophical ramble, and no longer about the things that matter.

 

What matters? Sharing, I guess. Sharing and caring. Too many walls, I am deficient; I don’t do enough of either. So many hopes and dreams and ideas, but nothing comes naturally. How do any of us make any progress? If I were a computer, I would need infinitesimal processors to accomplish life. So how is it that I’m not a complete failure? Because I can look at myself and realize that I am inadequate. Maybe that is my one saving grace.

 

Fuck you, life; fuck you and your sentience.

 

It's like Groundhog Day, but without Bill Murray...

Every day, bullshits.

Every day… the elemental pieces are the same, they just get moved around a little bit.

Drag ass out of bed, feeling unrested—slept for 4 or 6 or 8 hours, doesn’t matter. “Clean” for an hour. Bullshit bullshit. Eat bad food. Pretend to be busy. Relocate pretending to be busy. Inform people, “it’s not broken, you’re using it wrong…” or, “well, you know, works better when it’s plugged in.” Eat more shitty food. Climb at least 10 flights of stairs per day. Run. Knit. Sleep. Repeat.

 

Smallpox vaccine itching like a mofo.

Drama is everywhere, attitudes are being exchanged like germs.

So much frustration. Zero cuddles.

Not learning much or working much… but lots of practice at crimping cable ends. At least I’m getting good at something!

 

I wish I had more interesting things to write about. So far life has just been drama, staying in touch with hubs and anyone who shows interest, teaching myself [poorly] how to knit, and working out.

 

The good news is that our Beasty is up and running and organizing that drive gives me something to do that is zen to me and makes me also feel useful. I am so excited for this shit. Too bad they don’t want to let us run our own tv channels, we could handle at least 4 separate ones right now if they would just say the word…

I Knitted!!

After a couple failed attempts, I can finally officially say I knitted! I didn’t knit something, but I knitted. After one whole row, I could no longer feel my right hand. Two rows took me around an hour! I gave up when I started trying to learn how to purl. I also screwed something up at that point and just frogged the couple rows I had. I don’t think Lily is really a great yarn to knit with, it likes to undo itself too much. I might just -might- try that iPad cozy.

 

My right hand is always the one that acts out. I’ve had it go tingly and then numb while crocheting too, but never that fast. Usually it has something to do with the way I’m positioned or the angles I hold things at while I work. Sometimes it also happens when I do mechanical stuff, like taking screws out or using power tools. Not sure what or why, but it could be genetic carpal tunnels. I was hoping not, seems like everything that runs in my family I get earlier than my parents do. Carpal tunnels, the knee issues… and as I’ve told hubs before, “you know, I may start randomly having seizures when I turn 30.” We’ll see I guess. I’ve always been a bit of a hypochondriac.

 

In other, very sad news, my lil’ old doggie has passed. I don’t want to get too into it because I might start crying again, and I cried off and on all day yesterday, and I just don’t want to any more. I looked so bad my boss thought I was getting sick. I guess she passed on just right about when we left WA, which is both sweet and ironic. I have a lot of guilt about that lil dog, and I miss her a lot. I don’t think I always did right by her in the past few years, but I know she was well loved and very spoiled in Reno & Susanville. Hubs and I have discussed adopting a military veteran dog next instead of getting a puppy—“Son, this dog has seen more combat time than you have, he’s got more medals than you do, now you salute this dog, sailor, and damn it, SCOOP HIS POOP!”

 

But that is a ways down the line. Until I get home and we get a yard, at the very least.

Sigh. Day One.

We are hauling ass and taking names. I was upstairs earlier and the amount of wind we are generating is just astounding. Not looking forward to the next month or so… it’s going to be hellish until things get settled down.

 

In other news, 65 days to loose, oh, maybe 30-40 pounds? It’s hard to say, because the way they measure when you’re over “weight” is pretty messed up, I’ve passed on the tapes while still being about 30 actual pounds over. Fascinating, huh? I’ve been clocking at least 5 miles a day so far, until San Diego. Better get right back on that. Soon they’ll be running fat camp though, which is hit or miss.

 

 I also have to get anthrax and smallpox vaccines. So I get the nasty scar that looks like someone put out a cigar on your shoulder. Already with the drama though… this is going to be less than pretty and I’m not looking forward to it.

 

Pics in about two months, got some awesome ones so far.