Crisis of...

Faith.

Confidence.

Karma.

Luck.

Take your pick...

It feels like I should be either irate or inconsolable with all that has happened, all that is going on, all the utter crap that has been raining down on this little life of ours/mine. Instead, I feel nothing. I am catatonic. I feel like I am just stumbling forward to some theoretical end-date where magically everything will be okay and Swiss will be home and all of this will be behind us. I know that day is out there, I know it is coming, but damn if it doesn't feel like it won't ever get here. Oh, and I don't actually know how to get there. Minor detail.

This weekend's events have left me with a crisis of faith. I can't understand why it was him, why he had to leave like that. I can't fathom why a man that made this world a better place would be taken away prematurely, be he 91 or 19. Pair that along side my pre-existing issues with religion, war, fairness and why nothing is the way it aught to be and I can't tell up from down anymore. I want to pray for Swiss' safe return, I want to pray for the safety of my friend's husbands at war. I want to pray for my loved ones who are struggling with the twists and turns of life. I want to pray to lessen whatever burdens I am lugging around. But I don't think (s)he is listening. I don't think my issues are big enough to register on the radar. I feel small and tossed about and insignificant. I don't know what to do when nothing is going right. I used to pray, but now, it feels like an empty ritual and nothing more. It feels like I am talking to air.

I am in the midst of a crisis of confidence the likes of which I have never before experienced because nothing I am doing is working out, nothing is even close to going as planned. I used to think I could do anything. Now I feel like no matter what I do, its destined for failure. I looked at this deployment as something I could tackle relatively easily. Now I look around and see a house deal that just won't go smoothly, a potential emergency mission to abort our move, a looming mortgage and unemployment amidst family drama and personal loss... not to mention 8 months without my husband. My best laid plans are, currently, a house of cards and it is getting windy in here. For so long there was no doubt in my mind that I could take care of all this alone... no doubt that everything would work out. Now, I just feel like I want to give up. What's the point in trying?

I used to believe in Karma. I always thought that if you did good, if you did the right thing, if you were kind and patient and generous that it would all come back to you. I'm fucking nice all the damned time. I always do the right thing even when it doesn't always benefit me. I don't know where all my Karma went. Maybe I blew the whole lot when I met Swiss. All I know is that it isn't here and I need it. Something fierce.

And I still can't understand why, in the middle of a deployment, I was lucky enough to get stuck with a buyer with the batshit insane agent who doesn't understand basic math and has less than zero personal skills with a side of irrationality. She has magically convinced herself and the buyer that there is a phantom $3000 missing and we are trying to get him to pay it. Which would be true if we had all agreed to sell/buy the house for $3000 more than we did. Also, please check my math:

$159,900-$3,000=$156,900. Yes? So then $156,900-$150,000=$6,900. Okay. Then $6,900/2=$3450. Correct? So if we are paying $3000 closing plus $3450 that means we are bringing (this makes me sick to write) $6450 to the table (less 'profit'). The remaining cost is $3450 that the buyer has to come up with. Correct? So how, pray tell, is the buyer getting the unfair end of it all? I CANNOT TELL YOU BECAUSE IT ISN'T TRUE. But she thinks it is gospel and has now convinced him that we are big mean bullies who are trying to take him for all he's worth. Never mind the insane deal (plus the $8000 from the government that they clearly think we don't know about) he is getting on our house and the $6450 we are paying OUT OF POCKET SO HE CAN HAVE OUR HOUSE. Gah. I give up. Really, I do. Done.

Someone please wake me up when this is all over because I'm pretty sure I can't handle it anymore.

At peace.

My Grandpa passed away this morning... he went quickly and did not linger... his breathing became labored and shortly after it stopped and then he was gone. I think we are all relieved that he won't have to go slowly at hospice. He is with his beloved wife Ethel now and we can all start the healing process. You will be missed Grandpa... maybe more than you will ever know.

7 January 1918 - 22 September 2009

Saying Goodbye.

Well, this has been one of the most difficult weekends I've ever experienced. I called my parents just before boarding my flight back home from San Francisco... that is when my Dad told me that my Grandpa suffered a catastrophic stroke the night before. I drove home from the airport, rounded up the dog, clean clothes and drove to my parent's home in the middle of the night.

We arrived at the hospital early Saturday morning and he looked so peaceful. But when the doctor came in, the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. He suffered a catastrophic stroke when a clot that had formed in his heart dislodged and stuck itself in his carotid artery. His entire left hemisphere was injured; speech recognition, the ability to form words, and the control of the right side of his body. Gone... or at least greatly diminished. The man I had grown up with, admired, respected and adored was a shell of his usually vibrant self. And the odds were not in his favor.

After 72 hours of waiting and hoping, we got the final word today... he will not improve... he can't. The damage was too much and the risks for complications were too high. Thankfully he was "awake" a bit more today and I got to see him try to smile. He tried to mumble 'I love you' back to me after I said it to him. He and I had a good 4 minutes together... I didn't say goodbye, I couldn't bring myself to say those words, but I told him how much I loved him, how he was always my favorite, and I held his hand tight. Then I left. And I cried most of the way home.

We, as a family, along with his advance directive have made the exceedingly hard decision to let him die quietly, peacefully, painlessly in hospice. As horrible as that sounds, letting him die, the alternative of a gastric feeding tube and a non-existent "life" in a nursing home, unable to speak, write, or move was never an option for us or him. He deserves better and he went out on top, which is both a blessing and a curse... it is comforting to know he was living a great life and never had to suffer through loosing his faculties, but it is beyond hard to comprehend and stomach that he is so suddenly gone, with no warning and no rhyme or reason. He was Wii bowling with his friends Thursday hours before the stroke... he was loving life and having fun and he knew how much he was loved by all of us. This is the last gift we can give to him, honor his wishes and let him go peacefully, no matter how hard it is and no matter how unready we were to say goodbye.

I feel such a great sense of loss and shock that he will no longer be there for family Sunday dinners, that his joyful demeanor and contagious laughs won't be present at holiday gatherings, that I won't get to play cards with him and playfully scold him when he tried to cheat. I will miss our Friday phone calls and I will miss his kind smile. I am still utterly gobsmacked that all of this has happened... he was the picture of health, 91 years old still living on his own, active, alert, no hints of ill health. And the next day he was, essentially, gone.

Thankfully I have an abundance of wonderful memories, I had the blessing of having him in my life for almost 31 years, I was able to form a unique and special relationship with him... and I secretly think I was his favorite (because he was totally mine!). I remember him letting me do his hair up with ribbons and curlers when I was little. I remember him putting me up on his 6'4" shoulders to take me out to the sandbars on Lake Winnebago. I remember him acting out his clue of "Madonna" one year at Christmas playing charades... that memory is priceless. Mostly, I remember a man who was dedicated to his family, madly in love with his wife, and the kind of fellow who no one could dislike if they tried. I remember his patience, his charm and his good nature. He was a gem, one of a kind, and I was blessed to call him my Grandfather for so, so many wonderful years.

I will miss you like no other Grandpa... you'll always be my favorite and I'll always love you! Go be with your Beloved Ethel and know that we will never, ever forget what a wonderful person you have been, what a kind and generous grandparent you were, and what a strong, loving, parent you were... we will never forget the times we shared and we will never forget you. You will always, always be missed.

Also, Thank You everyone for your kind thoughts, prayers and for those of you who reached out for the first time... you all have no idea how much your kindness has meant to my family and me.

NOTE: Please understand this was a very hard decision for our family and while you may not agree with us, I do not have any desire to hear those opinions, concerns or condemnations now, or ever. Please respect this decision our family has made as a whole and only comment if you have something positive or kind to say. Thanks.

Sigh.

Grandpa, originally uploaded by Tucker&Swiss.

Just so you all know why I am MIA. My Grandfather, who is one of the most wonderful creatures this world has ever played host to, had a catastrophic stroke and the prognosis is not good. We won't know more until Monday but are preparing for the worst. I am home with my family, where I should be, but feeling utterly helpless and tremendously sad. This was completely out of the blue and I am just not ready to say goodbye to him yet. Please send your prayers our way. Thank you.

On Vacation...

The Bridge, originally uploaded by Tucker&Swiss.

This is different from the hiatus... more fun and in a cooler locale! I'm off to San Francisco and will be out of the loop until Friday. Have a super week everyone and keep sending your good real estate juju our way... we still need it in spades (and send some to LAW too, we're all gettin' cozy in this boat). Take care all!

And the saga continues...

So, how did I spend my weekend? With the flu. Awesome, right? On the plus side, all the nausea and inability to eat without feeling miserable acted as a makeshift diet pre R&R and I dropped 3 pounds. Woo hoo. Also, I got to watch 7.5 consecutive hours of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. God bless you TBS.

The saga that is the selling of our house continues. We have been *ahem* "blessed" to have not only an inexperienced buyer (which is okay because I was inexperienced too when I bought my first house and would hardly consider myself an expert of any kind these days) but also, apparently, an inexperienced agent. No, not mine. She's been mostly great. But the buyer's agent apparently has no idea what do to in this situation and has been sending pointless and unreasonable requests via e-mail (aka: not in the formal response of an offer, etc). So we had been treading water, getting closer and closer to the closing date with a buyer who would not look for a new bank or submit an official request for a change to the offer. Ugh. So despite my last post, and in the hopes of either coming to a concrete decision or having more time back on the market, we put out our final (and very reasonable) offer to the buyer yesterday. It was in no uncertain terms. Take it or leave it. He has until the end of business today to decide.

So... I'll either be sprucing up the house tonight to have it ready to be shown again this week or finally able to breathe a sigh of relief that this ordeal is 'behind' us. At this rate? Either one is okay by me. Tomorrow I leave for San Francisco to hang out with Beth and hopefully get to meet up with Burn my Biscuits. The camera is back and in working order so I'll have plenty of quality times with the sights of the city by the bay and my trusty DSLR. Now, on to the business to getting well enough to eat my body weight in sushi... Happy Monday all!

Blogworthy.

REVELATION: In regards to the current situation we are in with the buyer... if this were a game of tennis (wherein I would be a Rafa Nadal type and he would be the 114th Ranked player who eeked into the tournament) the ball would be in his court. Any move on my part would a) make me look like a moron and b) upset the balance of the game. Hunh?

To this I say: WHO KNEW? (Answer: me, obviously!)

Somehow I have contorted the situation into being my issue (something about my house not appraising high enough so I had to do something to remedy the situation) and not his which resulted in much gnashing of teeth and near-ulcer inducing stress. So, per the recommendation of our Agent... we are proceeding as dictated by our signed and legally binding Purchase Agreement and heading towards our closing date of October 5th. Until we hear differently from them, its business as usual. And that thud you heard? It was the massive weight on my shoulders falling to the floor, through it and into the basement.

In the interest of full disclosure, this whole thing could fall apart like a house of cards, but we are prepared to put it back on the market (begrudgingly) to hopefully snag a less batshitcrazinsane buyer if need be. Our Agent is confident it will sell just fine, especially if we lower the price a bit ('round about the number where we would still break even).

So, color me relieved. As hokey as it sounds, I feel like someone has breathed life back into me... like I can finally focus on something, anything else. It is good to be back. Let's just hope its a nice long stay...

Thanks for your patience and kind words and support through all of this. Y'all are rock stars!

Twitterfied update.

Apparently I can only formulate thoughts that are 140 characters or less. Twitter has corroded my brain. But I digress... here's the update in 140 characters or less:

Glee! Maybe dead camera? Appraiser is the devil. Moving date set. Trip to SanFran next week. Going to loose lotsa $ on house. Wine is good.

There. Now you've been updated. In 140 characters or less. Twitter FTW!

Hiatus.

Hey all.

Don't worry... it won't be long. I just need to take a break. I'm feeling rather threadbare and need some time to either refocus or regroup, I can't tell which one yet. Maybe both. I just feel like I don't have the energy or the spirit or the gumption to turn all this stuff into coherent thoughts that are either humorous, informative, or worthwhile to read. So I'm just going to hold off on the posting for a bit.

Then again, maybe y'all are my therapy and I won't be able to go more than the weekend without blogging. We'll see. But for now... I just need a breather. I need to focus on me and get over the funk I've been in and find a better way to deal with all the stuff that has been going on. I'll still be around, reading y'all's blogs and stuff. Just not posting here.

Hope y'all understand. I promise I won't be long.

Take care and have a great weekend.

Weekend intentions.

So, this has been a week. We still don't know anything about the house/appraiser/offer/sold-not-sold situation. It is sort of killing me to not know, but also, if they are still working on it, then what is there to report? No resolution yet. And so far, (knock on wood) the buyer is still all in. Seeing as how it took the appraiser almost a week to do his thing last time, I'm guessing next week is as good as we can hope for. I'm proceeding with the PCS steps in a leap of blind faith. So the moving company is coming through next week for a walk-through. I am continuing my cataloguing of what comes with me, what goes, what is too precious to trust to a random stranger. I think all of this is in the hopes that if I just keep going, things will work out. I'm not stressing out, just, you know, plodding along with the hopes that things won't go horribly awry in the near (or distant) future. Y'all, I'm gonna need you to keep your fingers crossed for us!

But that brings me to this weekend. My intentions? So far, tonight I plan to talk to Swiss, go get some pumpkin beer and supplies for White Russians, snag some dinner and tuck in to watch Marie Antoinette and Pan's Labyrinth in the hopes of getting inspired to do some artwork (think sketches, pen & ink stuff). Tomorrow I get to haul all of Swiss's hunting gear up from the basement and into the truck for transport and storage at the in-law's house. The perk? Helga will feed me a hearty, cream & butter filled, German dinner. Yum. Then Sunday I am making baked beans for a get-together with friends. These baked beans. Bacon! Monday... nothing. Blissful, sweet nothing. All in all, it should be a good, relaxing weekend for me to chill out, decompress and gear up for the next 6-ish weeks of madness until R&R comes.

What are y'all up to? Either way, I hope each of you have a wonderful long weekend!

Ah ha! New Army Math, explained.

So, my lovely Transportation Officer Cinnamon (yes, that is really her name, but she is nice and patient and I really do like the spice so I'm going with it) called me up this morning to explain why a move that is 110 miles closer will in fact cost us $765. Are you ready for this?

Apparently, the Government sets a nation-wide rate for all moving companies, what they will get paid when they do these Government moves. And, apparently many of the movers from the different states don't think that rate is enough. So each of them have these supplemental rates to get each individual state's movers up to the rate that they are comfortable with. Aaaand, apparently the state we currently live in has a rate that is 25% higher than the state Swiss used to live in. Even though they are right next door and, yeah, this is bullshit and makes no sense to me and I hate this state for so, so many reasons now!

However, my annoyance being vented, I am not upset with the Transportation Office... it isn't their fault and Cinnamon was super nice about it. I just think this is lame. The state we live in is lame. The movers from this state are lame. And I think it is lame how everyone and their cat has their hands (er... paws?) in my pockets. Can you tell I've reached maximum density? At this point I just want to be down at Fort X with all this ridiculousness behind me, my husband home and no more drama. Bwahahahahaha. Not for another 5 months Sucker!

Anyway, we are waiting to hear back about all the appraisal/offer/real estate madness. Swiss and I are both just SO over it. We just want to make this deal work, take our lumps and move on. So what if we loose a bunch of money. I just won't get the new car I've been eyeing up and researching for the past year. No big deal. This is how life works... but I just want it to be OVER already. I'll keep y'all posted but in the mean time, please send us all the good juju you can muster! Thanks everyone!

Army math?

So would someone please tell me how this "new" Army math works? Obviously I haven't been an Army Wife long enough to understand Army Math... So here's your homework folks:

Let's assume that the distance from our current home to Fort X is exactly 1,103 miles.

And, the distance from Swiss's old duty station to Fort X is exactly 1,213 miles.

Then, how does the cost of a PCS from here cost us (out of pocket) $756.00 more than a PSC from the previous duty station that is, in fact, 110 miles further from our final destination?

According to my civilian math, the cost of driving a moving truck down 110 LESS miles of Interstate A from our house to Fort X is $6.78 per mile. You know, as opposed to driving Highway B for an extra 110 miles only to join up with the same Interstate A? Hmm. I'm confused. Now clearly my civilian brand of math is lacking a certain je nes sais quoi that Army math because those numbers of mine just don't add up. I'm hoping some of you have some insight into how this Army math works, because math wasn't ever my strong suit, so I'm purrty confused about this here PPSO stuff.

Needless to say this discrepancy has been, tactfully, brought to the attention of our PSC officer. I'm tres interested to see what she has to say about this Army math business...

WTF? (aka: BANKS ARE THE DEVIL)

In a turn of events that is making me question the status of my cosmic Karma, our appraisal has failed. (Seriously- What DID I do???) And by failed, I mean the dude sent by the (EVIL) bank appraised our house at the same value it was appraised at 2 years ago (which is about $10,000 less than the sale price). Even though we remodeled the kitchen and everyone & their mom thinks the price is right. So... the accepted offer? In jeopardy. The calmness and serenity of being done with the house drama? Poof. GONE. The anxiety, worry and stress of getting this fixed, sold and done with once and for all? Back with a vengeance.

Our realtor claims it isn't time to panic yet (HA! She didn't just submit her PPSO forms requesting to be moved out of said house on the 1st of October and signed papers formally resigning her position at work on the 16th of October.). She found the comps we based our price on, she submitted paperwork detailing the work that has been done on the house and apparently the buyer's agent is working to fix this too. All hands are on deck to try and right this ship. But honestly, my outlook is grim. (Oh, and let's NOT get into the fact that this whole mess is happening solely because the EVIL banks offered sub-prime lending which caused this housing crash and now they are screwing ME and everyone else over by under-appraising houses in order to cover their own asses. Color me LIVID.)

I do not know what to do now. Save cry, knit, drink, cry some more, and pray to anyone upstairs who is listening for a teensey bit of help on this one. I know Swiss, bless his heart, will just say to do whatever we have to do in order to get the sale done with... even if it means loosing more money. I can honestly say that at this point, I'm in total agreement with him. Anyway, if you have some spare time, throw out some good financial juju my way. And if you know what I did to mess up my Karma so spectacularly, drop me a line because I'd really like to know...

PS- As an added bonus, the PPSO office just called to inform me that our move will cost us $1,000 out of pocket because he was single and living in another state when he got his PCS orders, even though he didn't report to his new duty station until after we got married. Our current home is further away from our new duty station than his last duty station was so yep, we get to absorb that cost. Wheeee! LOOK AT ME! I AM MADE OF MONEY!!!

J-O-B.

Sooo. It's been like 3 weeks since I applied for the Cytotechnologist position at Fort X. Complete with Military Spouse Preference.

I've heard nothing. Nada.


All I know is the nice Army HR folks at Fort Belvoir (Why, hello base envy! How are you today?) forwarded on my resume to the folks at Fort X, and I haven't heard a peep from anyone since. Best I can guess? The mid-level management position I've been doing the last 1+ years and the ridiculous fancy testing my current employer has us doing (which few other Cytotechs/Labs do) has landed me in the "Overqualified" bin. Now, I DO NOT say this to toot my own horn (I said toot!). I say this because with 5 years of experience, a major medical center on my resume, and Spouse Preference... you would think I would at least be able to garner myself an interview. Nope. No beans.

So where to go from here? I don't want to stay in this field anyway, I want to move on and do something that a) doesn't make me sad and depressed (cancer has a way of getting to you when you work with it all day long) and b) lets me use my creativity and biology degree more fully. But then what do I do? (Raise you hand if you are now singing an 80's song that I can't name right now.) High school biology teacher? Full on Biologist? Work for the CDC? The EPA? Or do I totally change things up and go get an Art degree? Do photography professionally? Find a way to mix the art and the biology? And how, after 6 years dedicated to another field, do I get the necessary experience to get a job that pays more than $JustLessThanDestitute.00/hr?

See, if all goes as planned, Swiss and I won't be at Fort X (knock on wood) for even a full year. So I won't have enough time to get my teaching certification. Nor will I have enough time to go back and get a Masters or whatever in Biology. So... I'm left with either not working (okay by me!) or trying to, at the very least, scrounge up some entry-level work that will help me out in the non-medical lab experience category. Sounds awesome, right? Ha! But... in this vein, a "seasonal biologist" position opened up at Fort X with the Nature Conservancy. And I am all like, Woah. They are a HUGE force to be reckoned with in the conservation biology realm (PS: In case you didn't know, my college major was Ecology, Evolution & Behavioral Biology. NERD ALERT!) and would be awesome to have on my resume. It runs November - April cataloguing and studying migrating sparrow populations on Fort X and is 100% entry-level. Not exactly thrilling stuff, but still... experience, a good name for the resume, and a pretty amazing company to work for (let's not talk about the $20/hr pay cut, the getting up at sunrise or working weekends bit though, okay?).

So, I'm going to apply (I think). Thankfully they requested a cover letter (unlike the cytotechnologist job at Fort X) so I can explain myself and why I suddenly want an entry-level job wandering through the scrub brush mist-netting birds and taking blood samples after 5 years at a leading medical center. It ain't glamorous, but if I'm lucky, it could be a good first step to reinventing my career... which is a pretty cool opportunity if you ask me. Now, where are my hiking boots and hip packs?

Shedding.

No, not Fletcher. Though to be fair, the does DOES shed something fierce. It boggles my mind how he isn't bald. And also, I'm pretty sure that if we collected all of his fur out of the vacuum cleaner, we would be able to clone him in less than 2 weeks... not even Dolly style, like Adam and Eve style. Which is sort of gross now that I think about it... that is a lot of hair. Ugh. But here I am, way off track, less than 3 sentences into this post.

The past few weeks have felt pretty overwhelming. Like the precariously perched tower of stuff looming over my head just kept getting bigger, taller and more unstable, threatening to collapse at any moment. Poor Swiss has had to listen to all of my neuroses, the plethora of ridiculous expectations I've put on myself, and my frustrations with not being able to get things just so. And about my mangled toe. But he's been a rock. He's been a fount of perspective, calmness and practicality. Just as he always is.

With a bit of time and deep breathing and outside perspective (Thanks Britt!) I, quite clearly, saw that he was right about all of it. I need to let go of the things I can't fix, can't schedule and can't will into being. A few dollars here, a few last minute decision there... none of it will cause the world to end. Not having enough towels when I move down to Fort X? That is what the PX is for. Not knowing the details of the move to Fort X? All things that can be handled after R&R. Not having a hotel yet for R&R because we don't have any concrete dates? Small potatoes and an easy last-minute fix.

I need to shed these neuroses. I need to let go. I need to stop trying to be SuperArmyWife. I need to release whatever notion I have of what a good deployed spouse is. Army life doesn't let us plan things that far out, so why stress about it? This deployment means that I have to tackle most things alone, so why make it harder by setting ridiculous expectations for myself? R&R is going to be great no matter where we stay, so why waste time and energy making plans that will likely change 3 or 4 times yet? I need to stay focused on the things I can change. The things I can (and actually NEED) to deal with. The other stuff? I need to let it ride.

Since I've decided to do just that? The weight is so much less, the burden is lifted and this deployment seems 'doable' again (though to be fair, I'm only going on 36 hours-ha!). I can put my focus back where it belongs, on Us. It all feels a lot less scary now... that tower isn't as unstable, isn't as big and isn't as menacing. I can do this.

On gossip, promotions and OPSEC.

So the lame part of this post is that it will be incredibly vague, therefore rendering it almost useless, all in the name of OPSEC. But I think maybe it will help me to just put it out there, no matter how evasive and non-specific it is.

There is gossip coming out of the Sandbox. Which is a new change for our unit, last time both of us heard about it first on Facebook from the FRG. OPSEC FAIL. But I digress. Near as I can tell there are about 5 different iterations of said gossip. New locations, old locations, temporary locations, same locations. Change. No change. New duties, new units, old units, promotions. It is all rolling in hot and heavy... new rumors every day. Some bigger and grander than others. Some wide in scope, some small. And of course, all with about as much credibility as financial advice from Bernie Madoff.

Of course there are implications to many of these changes. Should they take place. Implications that, personally, will likely up the ante so to speak. The likelihood of any of these things coming to fruition is small... but it makes me think long and hard about so, so many things. It makes me realize how 'easy' the past few months have been, honestly, for both of us. It makes me catch my breath, breathe deep, steady myself and repeat over and over again that there is not a single thing I can do to change it. If it will be, it will be. No matter what I think of it. I have found my peace with these rumors and their implications. I have accepted it and will deal with whatever comes our way with as much grace, calmness and objectivity as I can muster.

I have faith in my husband. In his character, his skills, his abilities and the fact that he is a damned good soldier. He can handle anything that comes his way and he will do whatever task is asked of him with the benefit of years of experience and his calculating, analytical perspective that I've grown to admire and respect. All I can do is sit back, wait for word, and have faith that no matter what happens, he will do his job to the best of his ability (whatever that job may be) and do everything in his power to come home safe and sound.

I have been pretty even keel in the wake of all these rumors. I have been able to keep my head about me and see the big picture, see that I can't change anything in all of this and that all it is, as of this moment, are words being batted around like a dozen beach ball on graduation day. But it doesn't take much to chip away at the protective shell of my carefully constructed cocoon of serenity and zen. It might be a photograph (like these), a short video, a turn of a phrase in a news piece, a passing thought that lingers too long. Then the doubt and worry and fear start to seep in. Today, I am the little girl with her finger plugging the leak in the dam. So far it is working. I just pray that there are no further reasons for that leak to grow into something much bigger and much more menacing...

And please, if for some reason you think what I wrote violates OPSEC, let me know and I will take this post down. As objective as I try to be, I realize that this might come off quite differently to any number of readers, so I welcome your feedback. Thanks...

Friday, I'm in love.

Oh heavens, thank GOD it is Friday!

Last night I did a Jillian Michaels "Banish Fat, Boost Metabolism" video. Holy Hell. That woman tried to kill me. But in all seriousness... it was a kick ass cardio workout for 45 minutes. I totally had to take breaks. I need to build back up to that stuff man. But the things is, I feel good now. I feel like I actually DID something. I feel like I am going to be a hurtin' unit later today. And that is great- because it means it is working. Remind me of this when my quads & hammies are so sore I can't sit down like I'm not in my 3rd trimester. And no, I am NOT in my 3rd trimester. Just in case you were wondering.

This weekend brings finalizing our PPSO documents and scheduling the consultation. I get to make some Gooey Butter Cake (if you have not had this, try it, it is easy and scrumptious!) for "the Germans" who apparently "are coming!" As in, "The Germans are coming!" They are really my MIL's family from the motherland coming stateside for a visit. I haven't met a single one yet, so here's hoping it goes well! I also get to research hotels in town for R&R. I am increasingly thinking this was a LAME idea on my part to close on the house before Swiss came home. But alas, it is already done, so hotel shopping here I come. I'll be shipping off the last pre-R&R care package and sending of my dear, sweet DSLR camera for repairs too.

And also, because this is funny and ridiculous and made me giggle. And the Onion is awesome. Behold:


Is Using A Minotaur To Gore Detainees A Form Of Torture?

Happy Friday Everyone!

Because this made me giggle.

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Silver linings.

So things have calmed down here at the Tucker & Swiss household... or maybe the past month has shell-shocked me into believing that normally ridiculous stuff is perfectly status quo. Either way, it is working for me.

I took Swiss's truck in for its 100,000 mile tune up. I figured it would be around $2,000 to get everything done and I was oddly blase about the whole thing. I mean, I was freaking out about the $1,000 we need to bring to closing, but this $2,000? No biggie. WTF?

Anyway, for the first time I played my "Deployment Card" when I dropped it off at the dealership... not because I thought it would net me a discount, but because I hoped it would prevent them from screwing me over. Like a pity play or something. Well guess what? Not only did they not screw me over, but the very nice gentleman I was working with found a way to give us a 25% discount on it all. That's $500 people. Five Hundred Dollars! SWEETNESS!

And one of my closest friends, Val, and her husband are letting me borrow their fancy HD digital video camera to document all of our stuff for the PPSO bit. Fun, no? But still, awesome that I don't have to take 3978 still pictures of our stuff, I can just whirl around the house capturing all of our junk. Rad.

So I guess all of this madness as of late has helped me be so much more Zen about Army life... you know, after all the stuff that has gone down the past few months, I am just so much more "mneh, whatever..." about mostly everything. I'm not sure it is 100% a good thing, but for now I'm chalking it up to a silver lining in the deployment. Hey, I'll take whatever I can get.

Oh, side note. We got one of the monthly HOOAH! Our Unit Rocks! (patent pending) newsletters from the guys in Iraq. I read it. I rolled my eyes no fewer than 8 times and nearly hurled twice. I mean seriously, who are these guys? And why is my husband SO different from them?

I think sometimes I forget that the majority of Army guys are decidedly not like Swiss. Which of course means the Army looses tons of cool points. But still. I can't deal with that brand of guy. Too much machismo. Too much dick swinging (yes, I did just say that, sorry, there's really no other way to make my point...). Too much false bravado. It's like being in a Rambo movie all the time, only with guys who you just know are less like Rambo and more like Tommy Boy (only less funny). Ugh. Anyway, it certainly makes me appreciate the rare breed of soldier I have. Smart, witty, kind, thoughtful and the type of badass who doesn't have to shout about it. Now that is something to be Hooah about.

Decidedly distracted.

Okay, I'm gonna say it: I'm sorry. I know this is my blog and my space and all that jazz, but it wouldn't be half as fun if it weren't for you, dear readers, so I'm sorry I have been so absent and un-posty as of late.

But, I swear I have a good excuse. Wanna guess? Okay, it is 3 letters that stand for an oxymoron. Wha? How did you guess so fast??? Yes, yes it's the PCS. Was it THAT obvious? Oh, of course it was. Sigh.

I am relieved that the house is sold and that I have my notice in at work. So my stress levels are way, way down which is an excellent thing. However, the stress has now been replaced by endless, incessant and all-consuming planning. My mind, literally, cannot rest. ...What comes with me? How many basic items will I need before our stuff gets there? What goes to our in-laws for later transport to Fort X? Do we buy the car now or later? How will I pack things into the truck in winter? Don't forget to take the truck in for a tune up. How many times will I have to pack, load, unpack and reload this stuff? Where will I go if we don't move into housing now? Ooh, go get more storage totes because they will fit in the pickup bed better. When do I move into housing? Don't forget, they need 45 days notice. What if I get that job? Will I have 45 days to give notice? Where do I spend the holidays? Where do we spend R&R? Check into extended stay hotel rates. What will we do with all our stuff when we are homeless and on R&R? Will the dog sit in the front or the back on the way down to Fort X? Oh yes, must get Fletcher microchipped... THIS is what it is like inside my brain right now.

And that is why I can't come up with anything coherent to post other than something along the lines of "OHMYGOD! Whydowehavesomuchstuff!" and "HOW did we end up with 10 TABLE LAMPS?" and "Duuuude. My stuff outnumbers and outweighs Swiss's by a factor of 12 to 1. Whoa." So please forgive me, hopefully these things will all fall into a nice and tidy plan and I can get back to thinking about things like Sitar Hero, starting up Couch to 5K (because watching my husband's butt for 5K is the best motivation I can think of) and how much I like wine.

DC!

DC Collage, originally uploaded by Tucker&Swiss.

Okay, I know this wee blog of mine just got really photo heavy really fast. But alas, there's lots to share!

So, DC was 78 shades of awesome. The company was wonderful (LAW, Army Wife Life & Never Apart in Heart - you ladies are amazing!), the sights were fantastic and I may or may not have fallen in love with the city. And can I just say how flat out great it was to be with other MilSpouses who just get it? Who are going through the same things as me? Who just understand all the lingo, BS and STUFF that goes along with this life of ours? It was delightful.

I will write more about it all later, but heres the lowdown on the photos in the collage:
(L to R, Top to Bottom) Me and the White House, Vietnam War Memorial, Statue at the Vietnam War Memorial, Arlington National Cemetery, Lincoln Memorial, World War II Memorial, Me and Mr. Colbert in the Smithsonian American History Museum, the Changing of the Guard at Arlington National Cemetery, the Washington Monument, Me and some mighty tasty beer, the ladies on the mall, the Korean War Memorial, US Marines Memorial (aka: Iwo Jima), the National Cathedral, the Smithsonian Natural History Museum, and lastly serious on-post housing envy at Fort Belvoir.

Ah ha!

ACU Tree, originally uploaded by Tucker&Swiss.

So THIS is the tree that the ACU's were meant to camoflauge our guys in... too bad they are in the Vietnam War Memorial in DC. Hmm.

BOOYAH!

SOLD!, originally uploaded by Tucker&Swiss.

Oh noes...

This, my friends, is going to cause some issues in the Tucker and Swiss household.

Swiss? Vikings fan.
Me? Packers fan.
Swiss? Favre fan (because he is under the completely delusional notion that Favre can bring a ring to Minnesota. Love you Sweetie!).
Me? Favre loather (see definition: prima donna, traitor, money-grubber, self-righteous and moron).

Part of me is glad that Swiss is in the Sandbox (Hey! I found a reason to be glad he's there and not here!) and won't have access to his parent's subscription to the NFL Network or cable in general. This way he won't have to watch the pain, suffering and losses that Favre will inflict upon his beloved Vikings. He'll just have to hear about it. I, on the other hand, will have to watch this hot mess unfold... it will be like watching my Dad cheat on my Mom. Yeah, let that visual percolate for a while.

Saddle up Viking fans... you are in for one heck of a ride, but much like the infatuated girl stalking the BMOC who is drunk at a party... he might go home with you, but he ain't gonna give you a ring and he's gonna break your heart. Have fun!!!

And there goes my productivity.

Finally! A no bitching post!!! I will keep this short, but starting on Wednesday I will no longer be as productive as I once was. Why? Because Top Chef starts on Wednesday and Project Runway (!!!!) starts again on Thursday. SO stinking excited! Yes, I do get this excited about these two reality shows. I've been a goner for a long, long time...

I'm just bummed Swiss won't be here to watch and squirm (literally) through every week's Quick Fires and painful eliminations on Top Chef (this is totally how last season went, with me watching it and Swiss pacing in the hallway during the suspenseful parts, or just ignoring it all together until I told him who won- Combat Tested or not, the man does NOT like suspense!). And I'm bummed that I won't be able to force him to sit and watch all the drama and ridiculousness and flamboyance that Project Runway made famous. Le sigh.

But hey, I can think of no better way to spend nights sans Swiss... a little wine, a little drama, and some awesome TV. Yes, this is the life of a deployed spouse... jealous aren't you???

Quickie update.

1.) DC was about 78 shades of awesome. The Ladies were fantastic, the conversations were great, the sights were amazing (photography Shangri-La), and it was a super escape from all the drama back here. Will post lots and lots of photos soon!!!

2.) A/C still doesn't work. Inspector Mark is a tool and is totally trying to take advantage of me. Which makes me one Angry Army Wife (patent pending). My Realtors agree. Now must find new HVAC guy to assess the situation. Will NOT be happy if I have to pay out of pocket for Inspector Mark's asshattery and FUBAR-ing of my A/C.

3.) Got word back from the buyer. He wants a few small things fixed, fine by me. But (biiiiig BUT), he wants me to replace the water heater. WTF dude??? Replace it? You mean the perfectly functioning, working, hot-as-hell water producing (albeit slightly vintage) water heater? Are you out of your effing mind? I SAY NO FREAKING WAY.

4.) Realtor will be telling other Realtors that we are entertaining new offers. Because this buyer? OUT OF HIS GODDAMNED MIND.

5.) 2 months till R&R. Cannot wait!

6.) Want to know why I can't get whiskey in my coffee at Starbucks. Oh sure, flavor shots till your eye bleed, but where's the stuff that will temporarily make me feel better about items 2-4? HUH???

Splat.

Splat, originally uploaded by jptshawn.

Between my job running me into the ground like some poor horse on the Pony Express and the broken washing machine (the motherboard, of course, $300+ to fix, natch), the malfunctioning A/C post inspection (Midwest! August! Humidity! Fun!), having a total meltdown on the phone with Swiss last night and Fletch spilling his completely full water bowl all over the kitchen this morning... I am feeling decidedly like the bug.

I'm off to DC for the weekend to visit some really amazing Ladies... there will be sight seeing, wine/beer drinking, kvetching, knitting and Colin Firth watching.

I am hoping to return feeling much more like the windshield.

Have an excellent weekend everyone! See you on Monday...

Exhausted.

Fetcher, originally uploaded by Tucker&Swiss.

This is totally how I feel. I would love nothing more than to pass out on the floor and sleep, with my ACU clad hubby next to me. Le sigh. Not to be...

Between work running me ragged, the stress of the house selling/3 hour inspection/etc, the general deployment malaise and the late hours I've been putting in (blame the knitting!) I am running on fumes. So blame all that stuff for my lack of posting... I just don't have the gumption to put thoughts to screen, nor do I have a strong enough opinion on anything to warrant a post. Sorry. I think this weekend in DC will be rejuvenating and good for my general being. Let's hope, because this in no way to get through a week.

Here and Far.

A few days ago I got an e-mail. Shocking, right? But this e-mail wasn't from someone I knew. It wasn't Twitter spam, and it wasn't the latest from military.com. It was a smart, honest and sweet e-mail from one Molly Birnbaum. She wrote telling me of her experiences being an Army girlfriend, with her boyfriend Matt getting recalled to the Army and now serving in Afghanistan, the emotions, the fear, the not knowing. And she told me she and Matt had a blog they were writing together during the deployment.

Intrigued and curious, I immediately clicked over and started reading.

It was incredible. It was unique. I couldn't stop reading. Of course, Molly and Matt are both accomplished professional writers, so it is as beautifully and smartly written as one might hope. But her honesty and emotion, his descriptions of what it is like to be there and the people he has met.... how clearly and truthfully they tell their stories. It brought me to tears more than once. And the idea behind it? As Matt put it, "...chronicling our parallel experiences during this deployment, the blog was meant to examine what challenges couples who are separated by war endure." Compelling to say the least, and certainly something we can all relate to.

From Molly, on Independence Day:

"... The anger doesn’t come because Matt left. He had no choice. This situation is entirely out his control. It’s out of my control. Sometimes I think it’s even out of our government’s control. I don’t feel angry because I’m alone. I’ve been alone before and I like to think that I’m independent enough to handle it. Perhaps I’m angry because this war is happening at all. I’ve long felt opposed to the action in Iraq and Afghanistan. But I know myself, and I know I’m not the type to feel such consuming anger about something general, about something as large as a country or as a war. I can feel disappointed and depressed, yes. But I think I’m angry because I’m afraid. Someone I love is somewhere quite dangerous, and I’m very afraid.

... I like the idea that I can blame my anger, which feels both helpless and useless, on evolution. My brain just isn’t made to feel this terror for a danger that resides half a world away. I’m not programmed to think of such opaque realities, of such theoretical monstrosities.

... And I have to remember to be aware. I need to be aware of my anger, and of my fear. I don’t often know where these feelings come from, but I am prepared to look them in the eye and deal with their presence. I will take it one day at a time, and I will think about Matt, who doesn’t have the distraction of holidays and picnics to shield him from unwanted emotion. And I will think about my friends, who feed me cake and keep me busy and watch fireworks on the street in front of my apartment after the sun goes down."

From Matt, on Gardez:

"A sandstorm rages outside my makeshift office on a U.S. military outpost in eastern Afghanistan. Soldiers lean into the wind, their noses pressed into the crooks of their elbows, squinting as they scan for shelter from the stinging wind. The rocky desert mountains surrounding the camp are now all but obscured by the enveloping haze.Eventually, the dust will subside and tonight’s full moon will emerge, casting a glow over our base that in any other setting would seem peaceful. Here, however, the illumination offers would-be attackers an opportunity, and it can be deadly.

...Gardez is a bewitching place, hardened, like its people, to the elements. It is steeped in a history of violence that has repeled the most determined of marauding armies. Only a few miles to the east and south lies the border with Pakistan’s Federally Administered Tribal Areas, an inconsequential demarcation from a bygone age of empire to which the tribal Pashtuns here pay no mind. Indeed, it is in the infinite caves and canyons of this sliver of Pakistan that the Taliban now launch daily attacks against us."

Incredible, right? I am excited to keep reading... excited to see what stories they will tell next, excited that they are willing to share these experiences, emotions and tales with us. I know this is an unabashed plug, something I haven't really done here before, but my goal here is to welcome Molly into the fold. To introduce this amazing woman to all of the other amazing women on know here. My intention is to help create opportunities for all of us to meet someone new, to share incredible experiences and to, most importantly, let one other know that we aren't in this alone.

I leave you with this, an excerpt from the latest post from Matt, because if this doesn't tug at your heart strings, bring tears to your eyes, and make you want to go read their words, nothing will...

"Where was home for me? I asked myself. Who do I rely on?

I had struggled with these questions many times over the last few years, but they now seemed so simple. The answer to both of course was Molly. Having moved myself five times in two years across three continents, Molly has been the only constant in my life. She has kept me grounded, connected somehow to a comforting if ethereal notion of home. Molly has been a rock.

And she is what matters most right now. Not the work, which will mean little in seven months. Not the ring, which can be replaced. What’s important is that I do better at letting Molly know how much she means to me, how I couldn’t do this without her, how everything reminds me of her. Even the most exotic oriental headwear from a far-off desert land."

So go meet Molly and Matt, you'll be glad you did. Here and Far.

Musical emotionalitude.

Yes, I did just make up a word. And I am okay with it. You should be too. I will warn you... things are going to get sappy up in here in a hurry. Don't say I didn't give you the heads up.

This afternoon I got into my car, the first time in weeks as I am quite partial to driving around in Swiss's truck, and went to go meet some friends and see a movie. Nothing good was on the radio so I hit the CD button, not knowing what was in there or what to expect. It was Mat Kearney's Nothing Left to Lose. As soon as the lyrics to "All I Need" came on I felt the familiar flood of emotions rise up... no, not tears, but the surge of memories and feelings from the time in our relationship before the deployment. From the time in our relationship when Swiss was about to embark on his stint at Warrior Forge, and I was set to endure an unthinkable 2 months without him the summer before we got married. I bought that album for Swiss and copied it onto my trusty iPod. I spent that whole summer listening to it, because it reminded me of him, because somehow it was a tie to when we were together.

But I digress... hearing the lyrics and the rawness of his voice today took me right back to the parking lot of the Extended Stay Hotel in Tacoma on a crisp early summer afternoon, as we packed my things into the government van and headed toward the airport. We held hands, we held them tight, we said a very long goodbye and kissed one last time. As I looked towards an interminable summer without him, knowing he would be on the other side of the country, busy with Army things, unable to come home. I remember feeling so helpless and upset, I remember feeling so angry and frustrated that I had to be apart from him, the love of my life who I was on the cusp of marrying, for so long. I remember being so sad. I cried most of the flight home. I'm a cryer... sadly, I made sure everyone in the SeaTac Airport knew it. I couldn't help myself.

And now I look back at those emotions and recognize them so clearly. That song took me back to that day instantaneously, like it all happened moments ago. I don't think those feelings were foolish. I don't regret my raw emotion and reaction to the situation. They were in the moment, they were real, and at the time two months was a terribly long time to be away from him. I still feel every last one of those emotions here, half way through the deployment, a year later. Only this time around they are so much stronger, so much more intense, so raw, so heavy on my heart and shoulders. These emotions are the grown up big brother of those emotions a year ago, on steroids. They are so strong that sometimes it is hard to breathe, it is hard to look at pictures of him and not break down, sometimes it is even hard to hear his voice.

These feeling are so invasive, so slippery that they find their way into every portion of every day. They sneak up on me, in full assault mode, in the movies, in the grocery store, in my car, at work, in my bed. These emotions do not rest, they don't take vacations and they never get tired of weighing down on me. Like I said, grown up and on steroids, with chips on their shoulders.

But there is always the bittersweet part. Deployments have that effect on every story it seems, at least when you get enough distance to see it. When I listen to those lyrics, and I hear the part where he says, "I'm holding on to you, holding on to me. Maybe it's all we got, but it's all I need. You're all I need." And you know what? Yes, even if he was all I had, it would be all I need. I warned you it would be sappy, didn't I?

While this deployment is nothing if not spectacularly suck-tastic, it makes me realize how lucky I am to have someone that I miss so much it physically hurts. It makes me appreciate what we have, it forces me to not sweat the small stuff, it makes me cherish the little moments, the 10 minutes on a web cam, a 5 line e-mail. It makes me take inventory of what is really important. And every single time it all boils down to Swiss. I won't lie, I am crying as I write this (told you I was a cryer). Because while most of my tears in the last 6 months have been from sadness, loneliness, worry... the tears today... these are tears of gratitude, joy, and most importantly love.

Thanks you Swiss, for being everything I ever hoped to find, for being so wonderful that I had no choice but to fall completely, hopelessly in love with you, and for being the most amazing person I have ever met. I'm here waiting for you, I always will be... but come home soon. Nothing is the same without you...

All my love is yours.

On Sundays and sanity.

So, good news? I am no longer paranoid or stressed or worried about the deal on the house. If you add up all the tax returns we got because of it, we easily cover the kitchen remodel AND the $1,000 out of pocket. And the peace of mind having this done is totally worth it. So, you know, SQUEE!

This weekend has been great, absolutely nothing on the schedule (other than an outing today to see Julie & Julia with some friends). I knitted, I wrote, I talked to and saw Swiss (YAY web cam dates!), drank my body weight in coffee and took Fletch to the puppy park. Apparently the puppy park is the answer to all things Fletcher. He was mellow as all get out last night, even curling up with me on the sofa which he usually doesn't do because he doesn't really

like the TV. Even better? He slept until 0815 this morning. I would have gone back to bed, but honestly, I was afraid he was dead. Nope, just plum tuckered out. Only now with 10x more energy! I think another trip to the puppy park is in order this morning... yes, God Bless the Puppy Park.

But anyway, I got to take a lot of photos of Fletch at the Park, which was awesome and I even got a bit of a tan. Oh yeah, Swiss got to see Fletch for the first time yesterday too. And it is finally acting like a true Midwestern summer here, 90+ degrees and off the charts humidity. Sweet, right?

This week brings a big presentation at work on Monday, the start of Fletcher's Obedience Classes and packing for the trip to DC... I am beyond stoked to actually meet up with some of my ladies (Army Wife, Neverapartinheart and LAW) and spend some time with a few kick ass MilSpouses. Woo hoo! Okay, I am off to drink more coffee, knit, let the dog in and out of the house 50 more times (we are SO getting a doggie door in our next house!) and hang out with some peeps later. I hope y'all have an awesome Sunday! Thanks for all your support, kind words and general awesomenss this past week! Lurve you all!

Mrs. Doubtmired.

Okay, that title is waaaaaaay more dramatic than I feel. So don't panic. Lord knows I'm not. It was just sort of catchy.

Aaaaanyway... I'm feeling relieved and relatively relaxed about this whole thing now. Only when I went to sign the papers today, my agent said something like this: "Gosh, it is just such a shame you had to pay out of pocket for this. That other guy who made the very first offer... well, I don't know." Wha??? Stop freaking me out! I was cool with this! Now you go all trailing off about the other guy who might have made a decent offer maybe? Party Foul.

To be fair, she did say that what we sold it for wasn't bad for the market we are in. I think maybe she just hoped we could have gotten more (ME TOO LADY!). To which I say, then why didn't you tell me to hold out for more? This is your business! So now I am all conflicted and slightly worried and now the seed of doubt that wasn't in my head has been planted and is already sprouting. Again, Party Foul. I hate this part where you weren't concerned, but now you are because someone said something off the cuff without regard to the fact that you just singed a legally binding contract. But it is all good. I'm doing the duck thing, you know, where you drink a lot of wine and let it all roll off your back.

I'm chalking that $1,000 up to a) not having to keep the house pristine anymore, b) the giant sigh of relief seeing as how this is "done", c) the satisfaction of checking one HUGE thing off the list and being able to move on to the other things (PPSO!!!) and d) not having to think about anything pertaining to real estate for at least a few years. And Swiss is less worried/stressed for me, and that is a good thing too. Do I sound like I am justifying the heck out of this to myself? Probably. (Shh! It's because I AM!) But bottom line is, it is done. We can move on and start to focus on all the good stuff waiting for us.

And the rest of you? Don't any of you DARE plant any more seeds of doubt. There isn't enough wine in the county to fix it if you do.

LiveBlogging the PCS: Part BOOYAH! Or 8.

WE SOLD THE HOUSE!

And no, I am not shitting you (really, what does that mean?). Sweetness!

But can I just say this: Pfft. Don't want to do that again in a really, really long time. I mean a reeeeally long time.

The lowdown? We will end up having to pay around $1,000 out of pocket. Which sort of feels like 'a lot', but Swiss and I are both okay with it and the peace of mind for having this done with and squared away is totally worth that amount. As is not having to keep it spotless for the next 2 months and the risk of having to lower it even more if no other legit offers come. He gave us full asking price, but we are paying $3,000 towards closing. So that brings us close, but not quite, to the magic number of not owing anything. I figure that since we only owned it for 2 years and are selling it in a bad market, this is a pretty good situation for us. So, YAY!

And for those of you keeping score, it was the dude from the "letter" in part 7.5 who started out waaaaay low and was "shocked" at my first (and reasonable) counter offer. I guess he came to his senses and decided to make a grow'd up offer and play the game like he meant it. So I gave a little, he gave a little. I have no house, he has a house. Winner, winner, chicken dinner!

I am still a little nervous and apprehensive and not ready to get all "ZOMG! WE SOLD THE HOUSE! GET OUT THE CHAMPERS!!!" yet. I suppose I will feel that way when the inspections goes through with nary a hitch and then we can finalize things. We don't have to be out until October 5th, which is gravy by me... it just means Swiss and I will have to (read: Get to) spend R&R in a hotel. WITH MAID SERVICE. Sweet.

Anyway, it is mostly done and I am mostly happy. We got really close to what we wanted and we are now free to do and go where we need to. Which feels really good. And also, it is weird that I am telling you all this before Swiss actually knows. Don't worry, he won't hold it against y'all, I promise!

Oh, and one last thing... thanks to my peeps (Loquita, Snarky, LAW & Army Wife... plus all you lovely twitter folks) for, well, you know what I am talking about, and I love you for it! Muwah!

LiveBlogging the PCS: Part Holyeffinghellwhyisitsostressful, or 7.5.

Why 7.5? Because I feel the need for y'all to suffer through this home selling experience with me. And because I am so nice (at least to y'all) that I didn't want you to have to scroll to the bottom of the other post to get an update. I know, I know... I lurve you too.

SO, like I said yesterday, his initial offer was essentially $10,000 below asking price. Not cool as that would mean we would have to bring a total of $7,000 to closing. No thanks, mmmkay bye! Not quite. I counter offered at $1,500 less than listing price (because that would bring us right up to the price where we gain almost nothing, but loose nothing either). Apparently the buyer and his realtor were "Shocked" at the counteroffer.

To which I say: HAVEN'T YOU EVER BEEN TO MEXICO? This is how you barter folks. This is wheelin' and dealin' 101. What, was I supposed to counter your offer with, oh, I don't know, $8,000 less than my listing price? ARE YOU EFFING MAD? Why are people so thick? So he slept on it and will maybe make another offer today. Which is fine, I just wish I could send along a note with my counteroffer saying something to this effect:

Dear Prospective Buyer,

While I appreciate that you are looking for a deal, this is a house, not a used sofa at a yard sale. And while I can understand wanting to get a good price, honestly you are a damn fool if you think I'm going to take it in the shorts for thousands of dollars out of the kindness of my heart. I'm just not that nice. And I know what the comps are. I ain't stoopid.

Furthermore, I am fully aware that you qualify for the $8,000 credit from the government as a first time home buyer. And I can do math. So I know that you are essentially trying to get this house for a whopping $18,000 under the listing price. And that, dear Buyer, is batshitcrazyinsane. I would also like to point out that y'all being "Shocked" by our counteroffer isn't making me more pliable and worried or more likely to take a $7,000 hit with a smile and a Thankyouverymuch. It makes me think you have no idea what you are talking about and that you have never been to Mexico.

Also, I know that you have been looking at houses since February and that your mom and dad love this house. Personally, I hope they either browbeat you into making a reasonable offer or shame you publicly for being so insulting. Or that someone else comes in with a legit offer and steals it away from you. Like I said, I'm not that nice.

In any event, please consider making a reasonable offer (ie: not batshitcrazyinsane) and keep in mind that while you are under the impression that "allowing" me to stay in the house until November is a big deal. It isn't. Not at all. And it ain't worth $7,000 to me even if it were. So yeah, that's it. Hope to see your reasonable and non-insulting offer in the morning.

Mmmmkay, bye! ~Tucker

So we will see what happens today. The guy who made the first offer came back through last night and we have another showing late this morning. Fingers crossed we get some reasonable offers. And also, in other news, my Dad got his act together and now everyone is on the same page (aka: the right page, and the page that I am on). Thank God for my Mother.

Oh and did anyone else notice that it is starting to stay dark out later in the mornings? Because 0500 this morning wasn't nearly as bright as it has been. What? You weren't up at Whythehellisitstilldarkout'o clock too? Hmm. Want a free puppy????

LiveBlogging the PCS: Part Holyeffinghellwhyisitsostressful, or 7.

Offer. Counteroffer. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Only with less shine and bounce.

We got another offer today. Good news? He doesn't have to move in until November 4th. Bad news? He low-balled us by $6,000 AND wants us to pay closing. So that actually leaves us with an offer that is somewhere around $10,000 less than our asking price. Again. GAH! Why can't someone just make a reasonable freaking offer and we accept it? I don't need full price, just something damn reasonable.

I totally feel like I have something nice and everyone is trying to get it for nothing. 15 Realtors said it was a very fair price to list at. It has only been on the market 3-ish weeks. Lowball by $10,000? It feels insulting. It is annoying. I HATE THAT I OWN A HOUSE. I know dude is just trying to get the best deal possible. I can't say I blame him. But also? BE REASONABLE DUDE. Is that too much to ask? Apparently, yes.

I can, however, blame my father for being not only unhelpful, but insulting, agitating and demeaning. Awesome, right? I will be the first to admit that I have asked my parents for help, sort of as consultants, to make sure that my approaches are reasonable and to act as bouncing boards for ideas and offers. Mostly because I can't call up Swiss to ask the same things. And because I have never sold a house before.

But getting talked down to by the person you are seeking help and advice from is only infuriating and doubt inducing. And then when they tell you "Well, you haven't done anything stupid yet." you ponder all the way home exactly what the eff that is supposed to mean. And then you vow not to talk to your father about this at all any more ever. Never. Because that is totally what I needed and very helpful in this already stressful situation.

Anyway, my realtor is coming over tonight to discuss counteroffers and the like. Swiss says SELL, SELL, SELL! Even at a loss. I'm not too sure about the "at a loss" part, but a large portion of my brain is telling me to get this over with, take the first decent offer we get (even if it is at a tiny loss), and be DONE with this process. Because the cessation of stress and worry and maintaining a not-a-thing-out-of-place house has a heck of a lot of value in my book.

Sorry to bitch. Thanks for letting me vent. And cross your fingers for a good counteroffer. Or at least more interested buyers.

SWISS!!!

Shutthefrontdoor!!! SWISS! That is SWISS!!!! ZOMFG!!!! This is the first photo I have seen of him in 6 months. He surprised me with 10 minutes on the webcam. I don't have one yet, but I got to see him. SEE! Not just hear! Oh Lawdy I love that man! He looks so great and the webcam is awesome (now must find an old iCam or whatever for my old iMac... or, you know, buy a MacBook) and I am beyond grateful to have gotten to actually SEE him! WITH MY OWN TWO EYES! LIVE!!! Squeeeeee!!!!

When it first came up, dude I will not lie, I BAWLED. Happy bawling mind you, but bawled big fattie tears. I got to see him smile! IT WAS FABULOUS!!! Sorry if I am totally geeking out right now, but seriously, this was beyond words. I am such a happy girl right now! God Bless teh Interwebz!!! I LOVE YOU SWISS!!!

Miscellany.

Okay, I don't have anything that is long enough or coherent enough to warrant a 'real' post but here you go:

First off, the Marine Corps League National Convention is in town this week. It is awesome. Why you ask? Well, because I don't think there has been this many MilFolks in town maybe ever. And there is another conference next weekend for the Enlisted Association of the National Guard of the United States National Convention (EANGUS) which is also cool. I love walking to work and seeing clusters of retired Marines sitting outside my Caribou drinking coffee. This morning I saw a particularly jovial groups outside and, as I walked by with my Large Cold Pressed Coffee (yum), I said "Thanks for your service Gentlemen"... they looked momentarily shocked and then one said Thank you in return. It was nice. It made me all gushy inside. I like gushy.

Second, I was scrolling through my flickr account this morning looking for a picture of Swiss to post. There was going to be some great picture of him and I would say how awesome he his and how much I miss him. Instead I started crying. Because I do miss him. I miss him so much. The kind of missing that makes your chest tight, makes you short of breath sometimes and the kind that brings you to tears if you think about it too much. And besides... what's not to miss about this face?

And lastly... yesterday I told my boss that I was leaving. It's a decision I am (and have been) 110% on board with, but it was still hard. This has been my AO. I went to school here, I started my career here, I worked my way up the ladder here. I am very grateful for all of the opportunities I had, all of the things that made me good at what I do, I have learned so much in the six years I have been here. I am beyond grateful for the amazing folks I met... Val, Emily, Shari, Angela. But it is time to go and I feel very calm and certain about this decision. Thankfully my boss was sweet about it, she understood, and she told me she would have done the same thing if she were in my shoes. Which is all I could have asked for. And wholly unlike my boss's boss who has been pouting, making me feel guilty and asking me if I want to be called Tucker A or Tucker T (A=abandoner and T=traitor) ever since I told him. And he's former Navy. Nice, right? Ah well...

So it is starting to feel like this chapter is coming to a close. Which is both sad and liberating. I am beyond excited about moving and being home with Swiss and getting on with our life. I am sad to leave all that I have built for myself here, but what is waiting for me down south? So much better.

Ooh! And one last thing... I've got a few more names for my photography gig over here. Go check them out and let me know what you think!

The butterfly effect.

I find it funny how quickly one can go from triumphant I-can-do-anythingness to Oh Shitness in a matter of mere hours. Do I still feel like I can tell the Deployment to "Suck it?" Sure. But the PCS? Well, now that is another matter. Right now, the PCS is telling me to suck it. Hard.

I think the root of the issue is this: The butterfly effect. I am completely overwhelmed by this thing. Not because I can't manage a move. Nor because I can't handle selling the house. And it isn't because I am scared of relocating. It is because every last one of these things is so inextricably intertwined that if one goes awry, I can't help but feel like everything, this whole life of ours, will go off the rails and resemble something like this. Only not in Legos.

I can't get past the ridiculous scenario I have lodged in my head, the one where if this house doesn't sell, our only options are to either double pay housing and dwindle our savings to nil or to sell it at a loss. Either way, in my mind it involves money that isn't mine (still getting used to that- there are guilt and all sorts of weird issues I have using his money for my stuff) going towards getting rid of an issue that is wholly mine. And using the money that isn't mine just depletes the stash that we so dearly will need post retirement so that we can do all of the things that we have always planned on. If that money isn't there, then we don't get to buy a house with a bit of land, we don't get to take vacations, we don't get to, you know, DO stuff. We have to be frugal and thrifty.

Not that there is anything wrong with renting or stay-cations (whatever those are) or being frugal in general. But you know, I worked hard for this money (So hard for it honey... do do doo do), so has he and Swiss has earned this retirement. We are in our 30's for sobbing out loud, we aren't kids anymore. We shouldn't have to rent. We shouldn't not be able to take vacations. We should be able to go out for dinners and not worry about the bill, we should be able to live a worry-free life financially speaking. And if I blow this house thing... if I can't sell it. I will feel like a failure. I will feel like I made this mess. I will feel like it is my fault he won't be able to do what he wanted to with his post-Army life.

Long story short? Unsold house = Tucker SUCKS.

To be fair, Swiss thinks I am insane for thinking like this. Mad Hatter insane. And he is probably right (as usual). He figures as long as there is $1.00 in the bank upon his return home, he'll be in better shape than he was the last time (file this one under sad, but true). And while, yes, technically that is correct, I cannot deal with the fact that I might fail at this. Because suddenly, my failures aren't just mine. They are ours. And he is 7,500 miles away and can't do a damned thing to bail me out on this one. Please, please, pleasepleaseplease let us sell this house. Please let me not fuck this up. Please?