If you want to be happy, be. -- Henry David Thorreau
As of today, no longer can I honestly claim I'm in my 20's or even 30. I may no longer be young, but now... now I am wise. Just like that. Poof. ;)
I remember telling my Mother exactly a year ago that she couldn't tell me what to do anymore, that I was 30 and a "grown up" now. We laughed, and she promptly told me to go to my room. Some things truly never change.
In reflecting on one's age and life as one does on a birthday, I've realized, especially in the last few years, my happiness was contingent on aquisitions and accomplishments. I fell prey to the, "If x happened, then I would be happy." or "Once we get to y, then I will be happy." Oh, the foolishness of youth.
Simple. I am happy now. I am happy now, because I choose to be.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Monday, March 8, 2010
Barbie Wife? Seriously?!
Yeah. So... apparently, that's my nickname on the USS Texas.
Can't decide if I"m horribly offended or graciously flattered...depends on when you ask me? The thing is, it's not the first time I've been associated with iconic plastic supermodel doll, and I'm not quite sure what to make of it.
But, hey! If so, where the heck is my metallic hot pink convertible Corvette and wardrobes full of hoaky but undeniably darling outfits with perfectly matching shoes, bag and hair brush?
BTW... kind of an oxymoron... Barbie was a teenage supermodel, she wasn't intended to be a wife, Mattel just got greedy and had to go there.
Dramatic Sigh. It's a high calling, I will aspire to make the her proud. (Barbie, not the USS Texas. Just to be clear.)
Giggle.
I just couldn't resist.
Hey, if the shoe fits, right? ;)
Can't decide if I"m horribly offended or graciously flattered...depends on when you ask me? The thing is, it's not the first time I've been associated with iconic plastic supermodel doll, and I'm not quite sure what to make of it.
But, hey! If so, where the heck is my metallic hot pink convertible Corvette and wardrobes full of hoaky but undeniably darling outfits with perfectly matching shoes, bag and hair brush?
BTW... kind of an oxymoron... Barbie was a teenage supermodel, she wasn't intended to be a wife, Mattel just got greedy and had to go there.
Dramatic Sigh. It's a high calling, I will aspire to make the her proud. (Barbie, not the USS Texas. Just to be clear.)
I just couldn't resist.
Hey, if the shoe fits, right? ;)
identity crisis...again
Disclaimer: Staying true to the title of this blog, here I rant.
The United States Navy has bred it's own form of codependency.
The more I experience this phenomena called the Navy Wife, the more I crave access to mainland civilian individuals. The more I infiltrate this culture, the less I want to be a part of it, and not for each individual, but the general effect. The title, Navy Wife, could arguably be considered a syndrome. Symptoms? Anxiety, neediness, caddiness. Feelings of abandonment, and resentment. Depression and hopelessness leading to avoidance and isolation and sometimes recklessness. I fear this quiet hysteria just might be contagious.
Before contracting Navy Wife, I was a self-sufficient, professional and productive contributing member of society that other professionals respected and revered. I was confident, important and successful.
Now, I feel the hysteria creep in when he leaves me alone. It's foriegn and very unattractive.
"Hi. My name is Brandi, and I'm codependent."
What happened?!
The side effects of yanking a girl with significant inertia (see November post, "Great is the day...") from her civilian life and isolating her on an island while shipping her husband off for months at a time. Oh! And leaving her with little to no job prospects to occupy her time and make her feel productive.
(Side bar: Reviewing my words I realize that, most likely, they will be grossly misunderstood. It appears that I'm insulting my peers, ungrateful for my life, and unhappy with my husband. Unfortuntate, because absolutely inaccurate. Continue.)
I embrace being Navy Wife positive, because it supports Michael and his chosen calling. And while it's terminal with no cure, it's certainly treatable. Those good days I get with my Hubby increase those antibodies. It flares up occasionally but when the fever subsides, my immune system is stronger, and I can survive the next infection. Those who suffer know what I speak of.
The United States Navy has bred it's own form of codependency.
The more I experience this phenomena called the Navy Wife, the more I crave access to mainland civilian individuals. The more I infiltrate this culture, the less I want to be a part of it, and not for each individual, but the general effect. The title, Navy Wife, could arguably be considered a syndrome. Symptoms? Anxiety, neediness, caddiness. Feelings of abandonment, and resentment. Depression and hopelessness leading to avoidance and isolation and sometimes recklessness. I fear this quiet hysteria just might be contagious.
Before contracting Navy Wife, I was a self-sufficient, professional and productive contributing member of society that other professionals respected and revered. I was confident, important and successful.
Now, I feel the hysteria creep in when he leaves me alone. It's foriegn and very unattractive.
"Hi. My name is Brandi, and I'm codependent."
What happened?!
The side effects of yanking a girl with significant inertia (see November post, "Great is the day...") from her civilian life and isolating her on an island while shipping her husband off for months at a time. Oh! And leaving her with little to no job prospects to occupy her time and make her feel productive.
(Side bar: Reviewing my words I realize that, most likely, they will be grossly misunderstood. It appears that I'm insulting my peers, ungrateful for my life, and unhappy with my husband. Unfortuntate, because absolutely inaccurate. Continue.)
I embrace being Navy Wife positive, because it supports Michael and his chosen calling. And while it's terminal with no cure, it's certainly treatable. Those good days I get with my Hubby increase those antibodies. It flares up occasionally but when the fever subsides, my immune system is stronger, and I can survive the next infection. Those who suffer know what I speak of.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)