Some of my least favorite parts of some bars

So I've been bar hopping for quite some time now, and I have to say that I think that I've got a bar figured out from the first time I walk in the place.  There are some things that I look for, and just when you walk in there is a distinct way of noticing that the bar does or does not have that thing.

There is a bar in the town I live in where I don't like it because it has what I have deemed the three P's.

1. Puke
There is nothing that says dive bar more than a bar that smells like puke. Clearly the owners or workers don't take care of the area well enough to notice that someone has puked somewhere in the bar, and someone somewhere had too much to drink. What bothers me most is that this bar smells like puke presumably from someone drinking too much, and the bar isn't even a cheap bar.

2. Pot
I know. It's pseudo-legal here. I can't escape the smell of it outside of the base's gates. And in most cases I feel like I can waltz my way away from the terrible smell of burning fur to be okay with the occasional whiff of the green smoke. There's actually a house I walk past every time I leave the post which smells like pot. I always hold my breath, and make on my merry way.
But there's a big difference between a house and a bar. A bar should not allow smoking of that nature inside its boundaries, patio or not. And when the owner doesn't care about that, how do I know the cleanliness of the rest of the building?

3. Pooty-tang
Lady parts, well, they are lady parts. Sometimes, the most unfortunate of situations may lead to an unpleasant smell. I get it. As a female, I do. But I also understand that this is something that someone who owns a bar can alter. Except maybe prevent people from getting their freak on in the bathroom. It just is gross and is one of the reasons I am not a fan of this particular bar.

Dedication and Development

Someone once was talking about me and said the following: That girl knows what she wants and knows exactly how to get what she wants.

This week has been proof of that. I was sad because I wouldn't get to go to San Diego Comicon and wondered if we could get one here. Thursday I got the assistance from the local base and approval for it.

I wanted to help the new people. I wanted to be a student leader. Today I got my rope.

I have had a crush on Peyton Manning forever and Wednesday I got to take a picture with him.

I was talking to a fellow coworker and telling her about all the things I was going through and she said to me: I wish I had everything together as well as you do. And it got me thinking. Although I have a hundred and seventy things running through my brain at any given time, at least I appear calm and collected.

This is the same girl who was passed over for Drum Major position in high school because she "wore her heart on her sleeve."

I've come a long way, but I'm proud of who I've matured into. Now if only I could just stop spending money.

Welcome back, slacker

So I decided that since I paid money for this blog that I should keep up with it a little. 

I'm out of basic, but still not considered operational since I have to finish training for a lifetime it seems, yes, David and I are separated still. Happily married, miserably separated. 

I can't tell you what I do, or where I am. Super secret squirrel status. But I love my job, and I love my location because we never get snow, and it's always above freezing. 

I want the Seahawks to win the Super Bowl. 

I have a lot on my plate. I am a leader in the dorms and at PT, and I am planning a Comicon here on post. It's an awesome feeling to email celebrities, but it isn't so awesome of a feeling to not get replied to. 

Well...off to work. Tomorrow is Friday!

Last Day

I leave this morning for Basic training.  I'm a wreck of emotions: excited, nervous, and sad.  I'm excited because the day is finally here.  I'm finally shipping out. I woke up at 615 almost autonomously.  I know in the next several weeks I'll be getting up almost two hours earlier than this, but for someone who has been sleeping in until 10 every morning, 615 is a good start.  I'm nervous because I don't like the unknown, and this is a point in my life where a lot of things are unknown.  I don't know my flight number, I don't know anyone down there, I don't know what language I'll have, I don't know when I'll get to call.  I know that is part of the experience, but I still don't like it. I'm sad because the tables have turned and I am the one who is leaving now.  With David and my's relationship, he has always been the one walking out the door (first to Korea, then to Japan).  I've never had to play the "no I promise I'll be fine" role before. 

But David, he's pretty damn special.  He knew that I was an emotional wreck and let me keep to myself yesterday. I wanted to be close to him but not on top of him.  I knew that if I weren't occupied I'd start crying. I've been very good about crying until now. So we woke up in the morning, laid in bed for an hour, and then called our friends to do Ramen one last time before I left.  Ramen was of course tasty as all hell, and the company did well to distract me.

After that, I went back home for a brief few seconds to kill time before I had to meet with a friend for coffee.  Coffee was nice. Brief but nice.  You always meet people you genuinely enjoy right before you leave, and Krista was definitely one of those people.  She has a twisted creative mind, but she's a blast to hang out with. 

After that, we pretty much sat around the house.  David played Diablo, and I started organizing my pokemon cards by type and number.  It took a lot longer than I had anticipated, because I had to add about 600 new cards to the deck. Then I got hungry and David took me out to eat at a nice restaurant which serves Mediterranean food.  He got his steak right away, but I had to wait almost 20 minutes for my meal.  But it was still very nice. 

After that, David wanted to take me to Melody Road, something I saw on a local website.  So, we drove about an hour away to a small strip of road, secluded from the main highways. The story goes that two local people were separated due to the war and agreed to meet up in a small village.  They created a folk song, about how much they loved each other and wished to stay together forever. 67 years later, the village that they ran away to decided to commemorate the love song, and had created a strip of road with the grooves to let you know to slow down (sorry, I don't know the technical term for it) in it, cut at different depths. Therefore, when you drive over it at a little under 40km per hour, it plays the tune.  It was only about 60seconds long, and was hauntingly beautiful. 

After the trip home, I continued sorting my pokemon cards. I finished after about an hour, and I now have enough cards to fill a gallon sized bag. I know this because around midnight I had everything organized but not in the binder.  Fuck it.

So I went to bed.And then 6 hours later, I'm talking to you for more than likely the last time before I get out of basic.