An Impregnable Silence

Last post: 11 November 2009.

Today's date: 22 August 2010.

Nine months.... it's been a long time since I've blogged. Believe me, I've asked myself why I haven't written anything, but I keep coming up empty. As I sit down to write again, I realize the lack of blog entries may be, in part, because of the life distractors I've experienced over the past nine months. The holidays, the Outpatient Mental Health Clinic rotation (which almost killed me!), the dissertation, the dissertation, and then the dissertation defense! So much going on in the past several months.... where shall I even begin?

In the Liturgical calendar there are all these green months. When I used to teach Sunday school to the preschoolers, I taught them the song about the calendar with the words, "green is for the growing time." These are generally the weeks/months between Lent and Advent with the exception of those few "white" weeks we call Easter (aka: Celebration!!). I've been in a bit of a growing time for the whole freakin' year, but I'd say the hiatus from blogging, and its subsequent silence especially punctuates a growing time for me. See, in the growing time that's when we are busy with day-to-day life, the doing, and we don't even notice what's going on within us. We don't even recognize it until we stop, look back, and say with astonishment, "What the heck? Where'd you come from? My how you've grown! How did that happen? Just look how big you are now!" You can't see it in the midst of the act of growing. It's only in reflection that we can see just how far we've come.

I recently got to spend about an hour on the phone with a very dear friend who I had not talked to in... gee, not even sure? at least six months or so.... I was able to catch him up on all the happenings of my life over the past year. We eagerly swapped stories about where life has taken us, what we're doing now, and how much things have changed in the past year. This friend had been an almost daily part of my life throughout grad school, and he knew the ins and outs of my angst related to internship, kids, and future career possibilities. He was one to always encourage me to take the scariest leaps and also one of my greatest cheerleaders. He watched with pride, a smile, and just a tinge of envy as I feverishly threw myself into creating the best possible internship application. He was also there with a broken heart for me when things didn't turn out the way I'd planned. Being a retired Army colonel, he beamed when I talked of joining the Air Force, and without his support and encouragement, I'm not sure I would have "crossed into the blue." The past year and all its changes have sent us in different directions (as he always said it would), but I have a better understanding now for what he had meant when he had talked in the past about his military friendships. He would say, "I had some of the best friends, some of the closest, tightest relationships; people I knew I could count on, and then we'd move; although I'd go on, maybe not ever seeing those people again, I will always cherish those relationships and look on them fondly." Naturally, that was happening to us.... but what a gift to be able to share over the phone the past several months with him. I thoroughly enjoyed hearing his, "I knew it! I told you that would happen!" and "See, didn't I say things would come around!" and "Oh, I'm so happy for you!" and, because he's ever the protector, "Be careful... don't jump too quick." I don't know when I'll hear from him again, but I know I will.

I also exchanged email with my COT friend, Worthington, this week after a visit from some of those Mormon missionary boys (I, of course, practically invited them in to have cookies so I could tell them about my buddy, Worthington, and all our runs together at officers' training! I think those boys were ready to get rid of me!). We both admitted to some slight nostalgia for a hot Alabama summer run as we've both recently heard from new officers just completing COT (we also recognized that we really wouldn't go back and do it all over again!). I shared with him the happenings of the last several months, and the success that has come to me from the gamble I took by joining the AF. I look forward to seeing him again someday.... hopefully stateside!

I think that's the way of military friendships. You're thrown together, usually in a crappy situation, and you have to figure out how to make the best of it. My cohort definitely had to deal with some challenges this year, and I think we bonded in a way that otherwise we wouldn't have if we'd not faced those difficulties together. Our internship class has started to leave.... kinda reminds me of Charlotte's babies in Charlotte's Web. We're floating off in the breeze, one by one, with just a couple left behind to remain in the big red barn. We're grown up now. We're doctors, and it's time to get out there and do our thing. Do what we do.... spread across this great land; from Hawaii to Delaware, California, Mississippi, Georgia, and all the way to Alaska. Some in Texas, Arkansas, Missouri. Others in South Dakota and Florida. Most have already left without much fanfare and only a minimal goodbye. Some I'll keep up with. Others I probably won't, but I'll never forget this time we've spent together.

As for me, I've grown a little too. Okay, I've grown a lot. The calendar stays 'in the green' until early December when Advent starts, and the preparation time begins. There will be much to celebrate this year. I imagine there will be more growing too.

"It's just a season thing. It's just this thing that seasons do. And that's the way this wheel keeps workin' now.... you can't love too much one part." -John Mayer

Out of My Comfort Zone....

It's been awhile since I've posted anything new. It's not that I haven't thought about it. Several times I've said to myself, "maybe I'll write about the trip to San Diego," or "I should write something about marathon training," or "just a simple 'a day in the life' blog might be interesting," but I just don't get around to it. I'm not really inspired. Now, here I am on Veteran's Day... that's a new perspective... my thoughts and feelings about actually having an appreciation for this federal holiday that usually just comes and goes in my ordinary life. However, I find myself not really even that interested in writing about it either. So, what's up with that?

Last spring and early summer I had many conversations with my friend, Larry, about being in transitional places. It's a difficult experience to describe, but Larry summed it up so eloquently when he said it is like taking a huge leap from one side of an abyss, an image that to me conjurred up the beautiful cliff known as Hawksbill Craig (Whitaker Point), then being suspended mid-air, and eventually landing squarely on the other side in territory that is unknown; sort of an Indiana Jones-crosses-the-gorge-over-a-raging-river kind of leap. I've felt every inch of that leap in the last six months or so. Now, I've landed on the other side, feet planted, knees bent, toes forward, chin up. After a few deep breathes, I am able to turn around and look at where I've been, and at the same time, I'm having trouble seeing into the distance of where to go from here.

Last weekend I went home and got to spend a lot of time with friends and family. This trip offered me some time to reconnect with friends as the kids had their own activities going on. I got to sit by the fire with Melissa, Kerry, Holly, and Melinda cooking hot dogs while kids (many, many kids!) ran around in the yard, eventually sleeping in a tent Melissa had pitched. I enjoyed margaritas and long conversations about relationships and life with Holly, Larry, and Melinda on Saturday night. I did a beautiful sunset run with Mary and Zoe. I was home. I had a weekend back over on the other side of that cliff where life was about running with my friends, hanging out with moms, and connections. If there's one thing I've learned living in San Antonio, it's that I have some really, really fantastic friends. Colter and I have talked a lot about moving, pulling up the stakes and trekking out into the wide world beyond our comfortable little state, and the difficulties that come with leaving it all behind. It takes a long time to develop the kind of relationships we have with one another... most of them years and years.

Tonight my favorite intern friend and I went to dinner. Again, we commiserated about this feeling we have of dissatisfaction with our internship thus far. I've wondered how much of that underlying feeling of agitation comes from being separated from my kids and how much of it is truly related to the training. I was sitting out on my deck this evening, thinking about my day-to-day experience with internship, wondering about whether I am even suited for this, questioning the idea of even being a psychologist in the military, and I had this sort of epiphany, a quiet thought that seeped in and hung in the air. It came as I was reflecting on practicum and how much I enjoyed working with clients in Springfield- how satisfying that was. I am out of my comfort zone... Can we be totally engaged in a new workplace, a new job, when we're this out of our comfort zone? What would I tell a client if she came to me with this sort of dilemma? I think I'd tell her that she at least needs to consider that it might not be as much about the job as she would like to think it is. Maybe she's just still trying to recover a little from a breathtaking jump over a death-defying gorge?

This weekend brings Mary and Jackie, Margaret and Bob, and Rachel to San Antonio to run the Rock 'n Roll marathon. We're going to take our time, walk some, and just enjoy eachother's company with the only goal being to finish the race. How's that for bringing the comfort zone to Texas!

"It's My Pleasure"

This morning I am sitting in a hotel room in Washington D.C. I am on a "TDY" (training-something-something) for ten days to learn about deployment psychology. Basically, that includes all aspects of deployment from the soldier's experience to our own as psychologists with a specific emphasis on training us to provide evidence-based treatments for PTSD. Mostly the training has been rather boring (powerpoints), but we did get to tour Walter Reed Medical Center. I'll get to that, but first I want to tell you all about the experience of traveling in uniform.

Capt. Smith, Capt. Cassidy, and I decided to wear our uniforms traveling to D.C. because we were trying to get through the trip without having to check a bag. Boots take up a lot of room in a suitcase. In San Antonio where military personnel are a dime a dozen, we are not really even noticed so I forget how much one stands out in uniform. I mean, at home I can wear my uniform to the grocery store and can guarantee I will run into at least a couple of other people in uniform. However, in Dallas they are not as used to seeing people in uniform. Maybe it's because people in the Dallas airport are from so many different places, but we were thanked several times for our 'service'. We agreed that this puts us in a bit of a moral dilemma. How do we respond? What do we say? We're not so sure we deserve 'thanks' at this early point in our military careers and there is an assumption that people seem to make because we're in uniform (the assumption being that we have actually done something!). Do we say "you're welcome"? Or respond with the natural inclination to say "thank you" back? After much discussion we decided the best response would be, "my pleasure." This response both acknowledges the person's gratitude and does not take credit for a service we don't really feel as though we have provided (at least that's what we came up with!). So we tried out our new response as we strolled through the airport. One very energetic gentleman grabbed my hand, shook it excitedly, and expressed his just-short-of-tearful appreciation for what we were doing. I refrained from explaining to him that I'm just a psychologist and at this point had only been soaking up government dollars (just this trip is costing you all, the taxpayers, around $3500!). However, the event that left us all speechless was when we requested our check from our lunch at Chili's, and the waiter told us that our tab had been taken care of by a 'grateful American.' Still just writing that I feel a heaviness and a sense of awe. The kindness of people is amazing. We walked around with our jaws dropped for several minutes after that one and rationalized it by telling ourselves that someday we may very well be deployed, which will give us an experience to make us feel as though we might actually deserve this.

Speaking of those who deserve the appreciation that the grateful American expresses, I got to see several of those real soldiers at Walter Reed. The day started with lectures, but by mid-morning we were observing the instructor do an interview with a traumatic brain injured patient. This young man is 33-years-old and his beautiful and articulate 27-year-old wife sat with him on stage as the interviewer asked questions about his 15 months in Iraq and the blast that took his left arm as well as his memory of his college days (and Iraq). Patrick is lucky to be alive. Kat has grown up a lot and is now married to a different person who she will spend the rest of her life caring for. It was gut-wrenching to listen to them tell the story of just how close to death Pat came especially since the blast happened in the very last week of his tour and he had volunteered to go back out on this brief mission. He regrets not just staying in the office that day. The anger, the grief for a life together they lost, and optimism about the future was palpable in the room as they spoke. Pat was an English major in college, a left-handed writer, who joined the Army after 9/11. After watching this couple, I realized that one of the most difficult aspects of TBI is that it robs a person of their personality. Kat is loving a different man than she married. She too is a warrior.

At lunch I observed several amputees in the cafeteria getting their trays, paying for their food, and making their way through an ordinary day at the hospital, probably one of many. There was one young man in a wheelchair. He had lost both his legs and both of his arms. I tried not to stare, but I watched as he managed to get his tray on his lap, balance the plate of food, and still fix his own drink. I resisted the urge to help, knowing this is his journey; his work. Another gentleman was on crutches with both his left leg and left arm missing. Looking in the faces of these guys, I saw a determination to carry on with life that conveyed a sense of, 'today is just another day'; no different than the faces I see walking down the streets of Washington D.C. Ordinary yet so different. It was awesome to see the state-of-the-art facility that is Walter Reed. If you ever want to see government dollars put to good use, just go visit that hospital. They have facilities to train these guys to not only get back to tasks like walking, running, and driving, but also to do the things they enjoy like hunt and fish in wheelchairs or with prosthetics. The people who work there are so enthusiastic about what they do. I felt proud to be an American. Humbled to be considered a soldier.

So... now when I get thanked in the airport, I have a point of reference. I know who these grateful Americans are thanking, and I can think of these guys as I respond... "it's my pleasure."

Welcome to Texas!

So, I've been meaning to get another blog written but haven't had time. I told myself, "no more fun time on the computer until the data for the dissertation is all in!" The spreadsheet is done!! Now I have time to write about my run last weekend...

I got up early and drove out to Medina Lake. Being a girl who grew up in the Ozarks where lakes and rivers were aplenty, I have found myself wishing for tall trees and natural, unchlorinated water. It was dark, but as I drove I came across a bridge that had water below. I knew this had to be the place! I drove out about another 7 or 8 miles. I was still not seeing a dam or a lake as the map had predicted, but, at this point, I needed to get running so I pulled off the barely traveled road to park. I headed down the road toward the river. There were very few cars and probably only about four or five houses along the 8 miles it took me to get down to the river. It was very nice and very much like home (except I had to pretend the trees were taller!). I saw about 10 deer! Again, much like home. As I was running down the hill leading to the river, off in the distance I could see the lake! Beautiful! It looked sort of like Table Rock- lots of bluffs/rock along the edges. I couldn't wait to get there so I could see it up close. Much to my disappointment as I approached the river, I saw several "NO TRESSPASSING" signs and the river had a fence around it. Huh? A river with a fence? That's weird. Now that I think of it, everything had a fence. The few houses I saw had fences around them. The pastures... all fenced. As a matter of fact, even the deer were residing within a very tall fence. I stopped on the bridge and admired the view of the river, wishing I could get down there and dip my hands in to wipe away some of the sweat that was accumulating on face (salt in eyes = not good when running). I headed back up the hill, making a turn to the right in the direction of the lake. I ran another couple of miles, thinking I would eventually get to the lake. Nope. I made it to a 'T' in the road that had a big fat sign saying, "No public access; private property only." Hhhhmmm.... so where does a girl go to see some water around here? I headed back to my car, finished my run, and as I was driving back toward the highway, I came across a road where I could turn to the left and see the lake. Here it is! I turned down this road and was promptly met by a woman on a golf cart. She informed me this was private property, a resort, and they weren't taking any guests. I apologized and explained that I just wanted to see the lake. With a warm smile and a generous spirit (sarcasm), she indicated I could park and take 5 minutes to look at the lake. I did just that, walking down the hill to get a better look. As I was leaving, I stopped at the golf-cart-guarded-gate and asked if there were any public access places. The nice, Texan lady (sarcasm) informed me that the lake was privately owned by all the landowners around the lake. Only the water was public, and you can't get to the water without going on the private owners' property. "Interesting," I said and explained how I was from Arkansas and pretty much all the lakes and rivers are accessible to anyone. She informed me that this property had been in her husband's family since 1910, and all the landowners had gone in together to build the dam (that's the dam I was thinking I would run across; Table Rock style, WRONG!). I whole-heartedly thanked the lady for allowing me to look at some water and for the history lesson. She cautioned me about running along the roads here (she has no idea how many dangerous highways I've run on), and she informed me that parking along the side of the road could result in me getting met with a shotgun. Welcome to Texas!!

Eventually, I wandered into the little town of Castroville. I found an inn... where I was able to pay $3.00 to access the Medina River. The inn was on the national register for historic places (The Landmark Inn for those of you who know something about Texas or historical places). I got the tour and then was able to enjoy a leisurely walk on the grounds. I scoped the place out quite well, and when I realized no one else was walking the grounds, I took my big chance. After getting up the gumption, I stripped down to undergarmets and jumped in! It felt AWESOME! I hurriedly got out due to my fear of snakes and the fact that I couldn't see the bottom of this river. I felt vindicated! Finally, I got to swim in a Texas river! Refreshing!!

On a completely different note, my brother, niece, and Austin came to visit me this weekend. We went to the Shlitterbahn (I think that's how you spell it?). Texans have gotten so savy with their water use. These folks in New Braunsfel have figured out how to take ordinary river water and turn it into a water park! Yes, unchlorinated water is piped into water slides and pools for lots (and lots and lots) of people to use. I was actually wishing for chlorine. The park is built along the Comal River, and you can see the people riding down the river on tubes. Google this activity... this tubing thing. You will not believe the numbers of people who float around on these tubes! And we complain about tourists on Memorial Day at the Buffalo! It's very interesting.

And, finally, in Texas everyone has a tattoo. Period. Not much else to say about that... I'm starting to think they're born into the world with these tattoos. If you're under the age of 18, then you get the almost permanent ones. All sorts of things on their bodies- names, dates, memorials to dead grandmas, and, my personal favorite, Jesus: black velvet style. You know what I'm talking about... those velvet "paintings" that are sold on the side of the road. That Jesus. You might also conjure up your favorite image of Jesus on a plate; except think about it on the side of 300 pound guy's leg. :)

Gotta love me some Texas!

Healthcare in the Military

Since healthcare seems to be the topic of the day (unless, of course, Michelle Obama's shorts-at-the-Grand-Canyon is of more interest to you), I thought I might blog about my recent experiences with both the medical and dental services provided by the U.S. Air Force.

On Tuesday I had my first dental appointment. I arrived at the dental clinic, signed in, and waited for a mere five minutes before being called back by a young girl not a day over 21. We made our way to X-ray so the military would have dental records to identify my.... okay, we won't go there... The young girl took the panoramic picture and turned me over to an older lady who promptly tortured the inside of my mouth by making me place these gigantic hard plastic pieces vertically into my very tiny jaws. When she could see that I was at the point of tears, and there was no way I could bite down on this plate, she rubbed this gummy numbing stuff all over the inside of mouth. Well, I was finally able to bite down, but I was unable to feel the inside of my mouth for the next 15 minutes. Drooling, I was led to the examining room where the young man (dentist) conducted his oral cancer screening and examined my teeth all the while jamming to Guns-n-Roses "Sweet Child of Mine" in the background. I can say, I've never had a dental exam with Axel Rose serenading me. Then, he (the dentist, not Axel) proceeded to tell me his life story in the AF. I was shocked by how much time I got to listen to this guy- apparently there is something about me that says, "tell me your problems." The whole process took an hour of my day (still paid by the AF), and I was scheduled for a cleaning two weeks from now.

As for medical, I made a primary care appointment so I could begin the process of getting fitted for orthotics due to some foot pain I've been experiencing. I figured, "why not? the government is paying!" I had to drive over to the Army base to get a next-day appointment. When I checked in, there was no paperwork. No insurance card, no medical history form, no sign-over-your-first-born-child. None of that. I wondered, "is this what socialized medicine is like?" There also wasn't plush leather furniture or a flat screen T.V. in the waiting area either. The building was rather old, but clean. Interestingly, the PA I saw was from Flippin, Arkansas! Go figure! She seemed a little ashamed of the fact, but I was just so excited to meet someone from that close to home! She wasn't as chatty about it as I was.

All in all, it was a good experience. The bottom line: it was FREE. I got free dental and medial care, and it looks like there is more to come. For someone who hasn't been to the dentist in three years because it would cost nearly $100, I was really impressed (although I have this slightly uncomfortable cut on the inside of my jaw from that shard of plastic!). I have to say, it is very reassuring to know that my medical and dental needs will be met. I felt some "survivor's guilt" for all those uninsured Americans, my former brethren, who could rest much better at night (and maybe be more productive citizens) if they knew their basic healthcare needs were being met.

Did I mention I didn't have to wait to see this medical professional? In and out in 25 minutes. That's efficiency... for socialized medicine. :)

In honor of Lance Cpl. Travis Babine

"Marine Lance Cpl. Travis T. Babine, 20, San Antonio, Texas, died Thursday, Aug. 6, 2009, while supporting combat operations in Farah province, Afghanistan; assigned to the 2nd Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, 3rd Marine Division, III Marine Expeditionary Force, based out of Marine Corps Base Hawaii, Kaneohe Bay."

It has been a very interesting day....

We started with PT at 7:30am this morning (I love it that the Air Force pays me to run/workout three times a week for a total of 4.5 hours per week!). By 9am we were informed that a marine who recently died in Afghanistan would be returned to San Antonio where his mother, a civilian, works at Kelly Air Force Base. They were requesting that service members who were available go to Kelly AFB at noon to line up in honor of this fallen soldier as his body would be brought back to the states for burial. They informed us on how to salute the motorcade and that the plane bringing the body would be arriving at 12:55pm. Well, this, of course, was my first experience in being a military member honoring a fallen soldier. Come to think of it, this was my first experience period in being present during a procession for a military member. Would it be really bad of me to say I wish I'd had my camera? The snapshots are forever in my mind.

We arrived at 12:15pm and sat in the car for as long as we could since it was 100 degrees outside. We began lining up about 12:25pm, and one of my fellow squadron members (psych nurses, psychiatrists, techs, etc.) said the plane was to land early at 12:36pm. I selfishly thought, "good, because it is hotter than Hades out here!" We walked a good quarter to half mile to make our way, as a group, to the beginning of where the motorcade would pass. I was told the line of service members stretched over a mile long. Mostly it was AF members, but I did see some Navy and several retired Marines. People were passing out flags, and others had brought their own. There were quite a few civilians there. Most of them were probably friends and family of members present with them. The mental health people entertained ourselves by playing the telephone game since we had to wait for over an hour before we saw any "action." You remember the telephone game, right? We all decided we really had very good communication skills. About 1:30pm a woman across the street from me passed out due to the heat (the "action" I was referring to). That was a little freaky! Of course, since I was there with several doctors I didn't feel compelled to display my new life-saving skills (although it was a good moment to sort of run through those in my mind... "airway, breathing, circulation.... now how many breathes per chest thrust?"). Not long after this incident, the motorcade was spotted, which took the spotlight off the poor girl who was lying on the ground across the street. I kept my eye on the guys within my peripheral vision to my left as they would be my guide in when to come to attention, salute, and how long to hold the salute. This whole saluting business stressed me out a bit, interfering somewhat with my ability to really take in the moment. I felt myself sort of standing outside my own body for a minute, realizing that I am now a member of the United States military saluting another member who has given his life in the service of his country. He has a mom.... I saw her. He has other relatives.... maybe brothers, sisters, cousins, perhaps a father in there too. I could see their faces pained with grief over their loss, but also in awe of what they were experiencing. Hundreds, maybe a thousand(?), people showing up to honor their loved one. I could see a sense of pride on their faces as they were beginning to pass by all these people who had lined up, standing in the scorching heat of south Texas, to pay their respects to one of their own. After the family, there were some very official looking cars, and I was quite proud of myself that I noticed the license plate on the front of a General's car, saluting at just the right moment! Then, the really cool part.... the patriot guard riders. This was a gang of motorcycles, maybe 30 or so, that all were carrying flags. They were decked out in their leather and skull caps, riding in honor of this marine and his family. We saluted them too (but I think it was a requirement due to the flags- I, however, like to think I was saluting the fact that they were men/women enough to wear chaps in 100 degrees!). The whole event was over within just a minute or two, but it was something I'll never forget.

So this evening in preparing to write this, I went online to look up this young man's name and learn more about him. I was shocked to see just how many people are dying every single day over in Afghanistan. Why do we not hear about this? Google it sometime... read their stories. Some are military members, some are civilians working there, and some are Afghanies (did I spell that right?) working on behalf of counter-terrorism. Gee... just writing that I'm starting to feel like I'm being converted.... I'll reframe it and just say that maybe my perspective is shifting.

It was an interesting day in the Air Force today. One I will never forget.


Addendum: Because I am technologically-challenged and was not able to figure out how to make a comment on my own blog, I am adding this in response to Bill's comment. By the way, if anyone knows how to help me with this problem (not being able to comment on the blog), please let me know. Thanks!

Bill,

I'm speechless.... you don't know me so my friends and family will tell you that doesn't happen often. What an honor to know you came across my blog although I have to say I was quite surprised. I guess the world is smaller than my little mind recognizes sometimes.

Having a 16-year-old son who says he wants to join the military and having recently joined myself, I feel for you, your family, and Travis in a way I would never have been able to before. Obviously, you all have been in my thoughts (hence the blog) and continue to be. I would enjoy knowing more about Travis if you want to share (or direct me to a blog?). I think our world needs a better understanding of who the people are who are losing their lives in this mission.

Peace,

Mandy

A Hodgepodge of Information

Wow! So much has changed since I last posted!! I am now in San Antonio and have been for the past six days. We started internship on Tuesday, and we got a "day off" today to take care of personal business (i.e. unpack houses, take care of turning on utilities, etc.). I had a head start so today has been a pool day with Emily. She and mom came to SA last Friday and worked on getting the house together for my arrival on Saturday. I feel like there is so much to write about that I don't know where to even start....

The End of COT: After much marching practice we weren't sure whether or not we would get to (have to!) do the parade because there was a 70% chance of storms that morning. Honestly, I was praying hard for rain although I felt a little guilty since so many people had family who had arrived just for this event. Their prayers won out, and we got to march. I was also a winner (sarcasm) because I got to drive from Montgomery to Baton Rouge, Louisiana, in hurricane-type weather. The rain was unbelievable, and ensured that I did not do something stupid like try to drive all the way to San Antonio. I stayed the night in Beaumont, Texas, eating dinner at a Taco Bell with some of the cutest little Texan children talking in their adorable accents. I asked one of the boys how far it was to Houston, and he promptly told me, "Maaaa'ammm, it'll take ya a good hooourrrr and a haaaaf." Or something like that.... I'm can't write in Texan, but you get the drift. They have dehumidifiers in the hotel rooms in Beaumont. That town had to be the most humid place on Earth!

Worthington: Starting with Emily, several of you (my loyal readers) have commented on my friendship with Worthington and have begun to play matchmaker in your little minds. I laugh to myself (ha,ha,ha!), and I thought I would fill you in.... Worthington is gay. Ha!!! Just kidding... not in the military (at least we don't ask, right?). Actually, Worthington is married with five kids, and he is Mormon. They don't do that multiple wives thing anymore either! His religion made for some very interesting conversations while on those long runs, and I have a whole new respect for those guys who show up at the front door on Saturday mornings when I'm trying to enjoy my coffee and newspaper. Did you know those guys have to go away from their families for two years after high school, being sequestered for months at a time, to learn how to do all that? Of course, they learn more than just how to ring a doorbell and politely hand out literature. I was really amazed at the depth of their education about the church and the dedication these folks have to their version of God. Worthington indicates (both in word and action) that the Mormon church is non-judgmental about other religions, and we discussed some of those "hot-button topics" like homosexuality. Anyway, I won't bore you with the details, but I just wanted to inform you all that my best COT friend was a guy.... a married guy. :)

Lackland: This Air Force base is practically a major city. The hospital is huge and there is about everything on base that a person could need/want. From horse stables and veteranarian clinics to fast food restaurants, pools, bowling alleys, and hiking trails, you can find anything at Lackland. Why even go to San Antonio? They even have auto shops to get your car serviced, and they will drop you off at your place of employment and pick you up at the end of the day! It's amazing!! I've completed two full days of orientation, and I think we will continue to orient and sign paperwork through the end of this week/early next week. My security clearance got messed up so I get to re-do paperwork tomorrow. I'm still unclear as to whether I have some big Top Secret clearance or if I have no clearance at all. They won't tell me.

GPS: Who invented this system?? I want to kiss that person!! I would totally be insane right now if it weren't for my Garmin! Although at times I think the thing is screwing with me- taking me home via different routes. Still, I couldn't do this and have a hair left on my head if it weren't for the GPS.

Alright... I've got a hungry girl here so I better rustle her up some grub! (I'm working on my Texan). We can cook it outside on the concrete since the temperature is well into the 100s! My car said 116 today!

I will try to keep the blog going. It's been a fun way to keep up with you all and stay connected. Thanks for inquiring and continuing to read it. :)