Unreasonable, Maybe

As I’ve mentioned before, I have a goal. I have many goals, but one in particular that has come to me since my man has left for deployment.

“I’m going to look better than you when I come home.” The brat says. Okay then, I accept that challenge. I know he may not have meant it as a challenge, but I sure as hell took it as one.

I got a gym membership and changed my eating habits slightly. I have started taking the stairs at school. I hate doing this. I hate being “healthy”, even though I’m going into the medical field. BUT I must beat him at his challenge.

In the military, there are physical tests that each member must do. How often, I am not a 100% sure. I’ll get back to you on that. With these tests, the military has certain standards that the members have to meet. Every time my dude has done the test or a mock test, he’s hit the excellent mark. I’m proud. Now, looking at my goal… I’m nervous, but still proud.

I have looked at the male 20-24 standards of the Navy and decided that I will base my workout and everything else on that. I will win this competition. I have already gotten May’s status on his numbers and know where I need to get as of now.  I know he is busy and will be tired, but will try to make time to exercise nonetheless.

I know I probably shouldn’t weigh myself every week, as that might make me down on myself, but I do. I have lost some weight, yay me. As of the last two weeks however, I have stayed the same. Exactly the same. While at the gym though, I am beginning to be able to push myself harder with heavier weights and for a longer amount of time. It takes more for me to be sore, so I add more on and then I feel like crap and can barely walk or lift my arms. I just tell myself over and over again that I will beat his numbers when he comes home.

I just hope that I can. I know it is probably an unrealistic goal. I am going to try anyways. Wish me luck you guys.

Scary Truth

The real truth is, we try to control our for a lot of situations. He’s on deployment. He says he’s fine. He says he’s getting enough sleep. He even says he’s having fun. But for me at least, I always wonder if he’s just telling me that because he knows I’m worrying. I wonder if he tells me to try and give me some comfort. He tells his mom he’s seeing so many things and etc, I know he’s not close to land right now. He just sees water.

I have a great friend that I grew up with who is married to a cranky but funny marine. I love picking on the dude, probably why he’s cranky around me. She knows what it’s like and she and I talk all the time. We share the same worry of the current situation. Personal, I don’t feel comfortable saying that worry, but it is a worry nonetheless. She and I grew up together and mostly through the NJROTC program I’ve mentioned a few times. She was the more badass at it than me but we loved it. She was and is my sister through everything. Back then it was a school program and now it is the common thread of being in a military relationship.

But the scary truth is the answer to many questions… I don’t know. I know that this life comes with many uncertainties and I’ve grown to accept it, but with deployment- it becomes a strong fear. Not an easy one to handle, but one I handle every day and do it well.

After all, I’m writing a blog about this. It’s one way to handle things. It’s basically a journal. Sharing fears, dreams, amusements, laughs, memories and everything in between that would show this life decently.

To Readers

For those who read this blog and like what they read or want a more personalized version of things, feel free to email me. There is a contact button at the top of the page, but if you can’t find it, do not fear, I will go ahead and set my email down below. I am open to any questions or conversations. I will tell you as I respond what I am allowed to say and what not if you haven’t picked up from that already. Please do not take this as me being rude, I am trying to keep my man safe along with his shipmates.

Email:   sailorsgirl1775@gmail.com

As I said, any questions or comments are welcome. If you like to see something, in particular, let me know and I will work on it and will schedule to post it in the future. If you just want to talk about things, I am okay with this too. I am, however, a pretty busy person, but promise I will get back to you as soon as I can.


My mother asked me when I was six what I wanted in my prince charming one day. I told her that he had to make me pancakes and sing to me like in all the cartoons, then I would go about my day to color more pictures that would hang on the fridge.

My mother asked me again when I was eight what I wanted in my prince charming when I grew up to find one. I told her that he had to be nice, share his toys with all the other kids and still had to sing to me like in all the Disney movies.

My mother asked me again when I was ten what I wanted in a boyfriend when I was allowed to have one. I would laugh and tell her that he had to be smart and funny and still had to sing to me like all the princes did in the Disney movies.

My mother asked me again when I was fifteenth what I wanted in a husband when I got to that point in my life. I rolled my eyes and asked her why she thought I would get married, that I just wanted to get tattoos and work in a hospital. She smiled and pushed for an answer. At this age, I had had a few crushes and I was liking one boy. I think his name was Brandon. I don’t remember. I started to describe what he looked like and then told her what I wanted his personality to be like. I wanted a guy that was smart, kind, had a sense of humor and would still sing to me.

Now that it is a few years later, my mother has yet to ask me again. I am waiting for it. I might go ahead and tell her anyways on my next phone call. Before I met my sailor, I would have told her that I wanted a guy that I could trust and rely on, that he must be kind. I wanted a guy that could make me laugh and help me relax when I got angry enough to want to hit someone (which I never have, but have wanted to). I would have told her that I wouldn’t have cared what he looked like as long as he took care of himself, but honestly I’ve always liked clean-shaven men. I would’ve also added in that he has to be good with kids. More than anything-he still has to sing to me.

When I told my mom I started dating a United States Sailor, she was quite at first. I got nervous. I wanted her approval. It was important to me. I wanted her to like him, or at least the idea of him. She started asking about him. She started with the basics, his name, where he was from, how old he is. Everyone knows the basics. She seemed interested and we kept talking for a good hour plus. This made me happy. Towards the end of our conversation, I asked if she thought she could like him. She said yes, but sooner or later wanted to talk to him herself. I smiled and shot my hand in the air, fist up. Then she asked the ultimate question.

“Has he sang for you yet?”

Oh mother. She cracks me up. But it is a good question. It must be on the boyfriend resume for my mother and me to continue to approve.

My answer. Yes, he has sang a song for me. Not a Disney song. Nope, and we weren’t dancing either. Personally, I think it was cheesier than that. I was sick and he was on his base while I was home. He felt bad that he couldn’t do anything to help me. So, us having talked about music a million times before…. He went into the bathroom away from his roommates and sang for me. I must tell you guys. I had butterflies and my cheeks were flushed. I was totally falling in love at this point. It was around three months into our relationship. I think.

BUT him being a little turd, when I felt better, he talked me into singing back to me. I love him. We’ve been singing back and forth to each other since. It’s adorable. I hate doing it, I get nervous every time, but it makes him smile. I like when he smiles.

I love him. I could scream it from the roof tops. But I don’t want to get arrested.


Maybe I Shouldn’t Be

I am angry. Furious even. I want to shake him and scream in his face. I am not a violent person, for the most part, so, I can say with confidence that I would not hit him.

He lied to me. This may sound like the smallest of things and sometimes it is. It all depends on the thing it is, but it shouldn’t matter what it’s about in my opinion.

He’s been drinking. Not lately because he’s been on deployment. I mean, maybe when he was in port lately, and maybe that’s why he didn’t want to video chat with me or his family at all. Maybe that’s just me jumping to negative thoughts. I don’t know.

I don’t think this would be such a bad thing for me to not know if he wasn’t roommates with who he is. His roommates is an alcoholic who can’t wait to spend money on the next bottle instead of his coming child. With that in mind, I fear about what might have happened when my man was drinking with his roommate. And I know it was his roommate who bought the roommate because the roommate buys a bought at least twice a week. It’s sad really. These bottles aren’t little, light drinks. My family knows some bartenders… These are not easy drinks. The roommate gets angry and wild. His pregnant wife waits in the bedroom for him to pass out and then cleans up after him, not even bothering to try and drag him to bed.

He lied about drinking and drinking with people that could’ve ended badly.

Maybe I shouldn’t be upset, but I am. I am so upset to the point where I am fighting tears. Is telling me the truth that hard? Is telling me that you are drinking and with them that hard? You know I would warn you, but I would never stop you. I am not going to control you or try to. Is it that hard? Is it so hard to tell me the truth that you do that and I have to learn from your ex-roommate MONTHS later? Months… And how do I learn? I learn when this roommate is drunk and is to the point where he won’t stop talking. Is it that hard to tell me the truth? And if you cheated on me? Or got hurt? Or got lost and couldn’t get home? Because you didn’t want to tell me the truth. Is that why you didn’t want to video chat me some nights when the reason you told me was that the others were loud partying and drunk.

I love you, but I will not be lied to.

I love you and you can smile at me and sing to me, but I won’t take it.

I love you and you can repeat it, but I won’t.

I love you, but I can’t.

So please don’t make me.

I promise

I swear I wasn’t high at 2100 (9 pm). Baking cookies, watching a new medical show and watching live surgeries online…. Nope.

One thing all the SO’s tell you is to stay busy. Most of the time it is school work, work or family that keeps me busy. Last night? Nope, when they all passed out early, I went straight for the kitchen and started baking. Something I haven’t done in years. I must say, I am very proud the house is still standing and only half the cookies are burnt. I haven’t a clue as to why I decided it would be a great idea to do this. I didn’t get to bed until one in the morning. Don’t know how in the fuck I had that much energy, Jesus.

While the first batch came out last night, I groaned at the black edges and threw another one in. I still kept them, hoping my family would still eat them. The kids probably wouldn’t care. But thinking as I was doing this, I did think of my dude. I knew that he wouldn’t eat burnt cookies. I knew that he would praise my effort, but would find a way to get rid of them or I would do it for him. I know this.

It makes me nervous to think about maybe living with him someday. I love him and that’s what I want, but I have been so busy with school and my job that I honestly haven’t had a lot of time to learn to truly “housewife”. I need to. So, a new goal…. This summer, I’m going to be a bad ass cook and baker before he comes home from deployment. I’m going to ask that his mom sends me all her stuff to learn it. I’m basically going to take at home cooking school. I will know this stuff.

I know how to clean and do laundry already. I know how to take care of kids. So, that’s a huge part of “housewifing”, but Lord knows that cooking…. FOOD is what really keeps everything going. It is the source of life! Even when you’re in your momma’s belly, it is food. That is all that matter.

I am writing this before lunch…. I am hungry. Probably will just post it and then go eat something nice. Yea…. that sounds nice.



Okay, let’s do something a little different you guys. Let’s use a little bit of google and maybe learn something. It’s going to be about the Navy, duh. Mostly just some dull dates and events in the past. I’ll add in some sarcastic remarks and then we can all go about our lives and hope it may come up in a trivia game show and win a million dollars. If this does happen, you own me at least $10. That is a honest disclaimer. You own me.

Okay. Navy’s Birthday. October 13, 1775. Jesus, this thing is old. Fun fact. The Navy is not the oldest branch of the military, the Army is. However, as this is the real birthday, it used to be celebrated on the 27th. The same day as Mr. Theodore Roosevelt’s DOB. Now that it is past 1972, everyone has gone back to it’s right day. I actually did not know the year, but I did know it was Oct 13th. I used to NJROTC and we celebrated it every year. Mostly by having pizza, watching military movies and then playing card games outside in the shade. As high school students, that was a heavenly way to celebrate something during school hours. Our principal didn’t know, of course. I doubt they will ever know. I hope not. That shit was awesome.

Alright, next. Submariners are volunteers. Being in a relatively closed off space and without windows, yea, it makes sense. These men and women have to go through extensive testing to make sure they are awesome enough to do it. Needless to say, these peeps are very important and should not be looked down upon just because they are squids. Cough.

What now? There are multiple schools. After basic training, there are required schooling for the sailors. All will go to schooling known as “A School”. What that translates into, I can’t remember. More or less, from what my man has told me. After the recruits take the ASVAB (basically a job placement test, get three picks and then it’s up to you) and after basic training, they have to be trained on their jobs. This is A School. A School is where they go to get trained. It, if I’m correct, still holds physical training similar to Basic but holds more academic steered towards their career. Now, for the multiple school part… There is C School. This is schooling for specified jobs. Sometimes, sailors will go straight to C School after A school and sometimes it may be months or years before going there. Some sailors may never go there while others of the same career may have. Not being in the military myself, I can not be a reliable source of that information. If you want more information, please email me and I will get back to you with more in depth answers. And I thought I had a lot of schooling. Techincally, I do. I am just going for my ASN right now and that’s looking like four years total. Then with my BSN, that’ll be another two or three years. Yea buddy, I got more schooling than you, but you have the rougher job…. So, military one, me zero.

And now… December 7, 1941-Pearl Harbor. All eight battleships were damaged in one way or another and four of them sank. All but the USS Arizona was raised and six were returned to service to later fight in the war. Many other other Naval vessels were either damaged or sunk, but the war went on. As war is not my favorite topic in the world, it is important. It’s apart of my relationship. It always has been, but never so close to home as now. Seeing these facts and knowing how well our Navy raised up, literally, from the rough seas in a time of need and won the war gives me some hope. What kind of hope, I’m not sure, but hope in something. I do have to say though…. Our Navy is the best fucking Navy ever.

To close the curtain For all branches, there are songs called Jodies. Because of my past with NJROTC and my love for my man and his career… I have to write y’all one. Keep in mind that I support all the branches, but Navy will always be my favorite. I’m bias.  But I have to share one of my all time favorite ones we used to sing while running or on drill meets.

Everywhere we go, people wanna know

who we are, so we tell them

We are not the Army

The backpacking Army,

We are not Air Force

The low flying Air Force,

We are not the Marines

They don’t even look mean,

We are not the Coast Guard

They don’t even work hard,

We are the Navy,

The mighty mighty Navy

We are the Navy

The world’s finest Navy