Armour Needed

There is a new patch available for Star Trek Online today. It's got a release note page a mile long. I am patching as I write this so I can check things out before dinner. Supposedly all the new UI changes are in game. I am not sure what I am expecting, but I am hoping SOMETHING pulls me in. In LOTRO, our characters hit 30, the magic number needed for skirmishes. The hubby and I tried them out last night and quickly discovered the ability to duo them is almost impossible, which makes me sad. They are fun, but built for 1,3,6 or 12 players.

If you've been a subscriber to LOTRO in the past, but haven't been there in a while, now is the time. They are offering a welcome back weekend and it starts now.

After visiting Star Trek tonight, I am hoping to get a little time in LOTRO. I have my solo character soooo close to 30 and I am hoping to see how the solo skirmishes work out. Plus, I need to make some coin so I can afford more bank space, so a-crafting I must go :)


In other news, I have been thinking about writing about military wifedom blog article for a while. Perhaps its my love for gaming, or maybe its just that I am an odd duck, but learning how to maneuver around the military lifestyle this last year has made me realize a few things.

So, I'll quickly diverge from gaming stuff and hit the highlights of what I'm learning.

Uniforms are a beast all unto themselves. Half of my shared closet has been taken over by the plethora of uniforms. Long sleeved, short sleeved, everyday, dress blues, dress whites and so on and so forth. Have I mentioned he owns more shoes than I do to go with the multitude of uniforms? Or all the are different socks? T-shirts? *shakes her head*

The New NWU's for the Navy have washing instructions telling me to turn them inside out. I have no idea why, but I follow the instructions as if afraid I will be fined by the Laundry MP's. The new very expensive Gortex jacket is not washable. I need to do something with it, but I am not sure how to clean it? Even a google search has failed me.

I do not sew his new patches to the uniforms. I am not a skilled sewer and knowing my own limitations. I am quite happy to support my local small business tailor ship and the talented ladies who are exceedingly capable of doing the job. I am also terrified of doing it wrong. Friends tell me I am throwing my money away. I feel it is simply prudent to know when to say no.

Planning activities of any kind leads to frustration. All tickets need to be refundable. He says he will be home and I hear in my head "I might be home!"

I am never sure when he leaves in the morning if he is actually going to come home. Since we are a one car family, it has led me to have an agreement with a girlfriend for emergency car retrieval.

Duty days are a thing to learn to enjoy. I treat them like a mini-wife vacation. I don't need to have dinner made when he walks in the door. I can talk on the phone to my girlfriends for hours without the guilt of missing time he is actually home. I can watch my chick flicks, eat ice cream in bed and game for a whole evening if I want to.

Some spouses treat duty days as something to be endured. I simply try and find the joy where I can.

Friendships are interesting. Some people come into your life for a season and then disappear. Some are simply not meant to last and burn themselves out quickly. Just because we have husbands in the same branch of the service doesn't mean we are going to automatically bond, begin having sleep overs, braid each others hair and paint our nails late at night.

One of my girlfriends equates military friendship's like dating. A first date lunch maybe awesome, and I may leave thinking you are a great person I can enjoy my free time with every once in a while. After two or three outings with you, I may think you are a complete tool.

I now categorize friends. Acquaintances I may only speak to online or on the phone for support or a vent fest. Friends are someone I may hang out with sometimes and spend time doing normal girl stiff. True friends are someone I can call in the middle of the night when he is deployed and they show up at my door in the wee hours to take me to the ER or will stay up late with me on the phone to make sure I take my meds after surgery even though they are hundreds of miles away.

It cycles. One of my closet friends and I will speak non stop for days, then not speak for a month, then jump back without either of us being offended. It all moves around when the boys are home. If they are, we understand the need to give space. When they are gone, we use up all the cell phone minutes we've been rolling over for months.

The commissary should pass out armour when you enter. I won't say my age, but suffice it to say I have been grocery shopping a while. My first trip to the commissary almost led to a fist fight. These people are in a class all to them selves.

I am not the only one who thinks this. We were running errands this last weekend and I asked the hubby to stop at the commissary. He looked at me like I had grown two-heads and was spitting acid from my forked tongue.

Rules I should have known about the commissary before my first trip include: the retiree may look old and sweet but they will mow you down in a new york minute, you park your cart at the end of an aisle and weave through the traffic to get the goods you need so as to not spend 10 minutes in a "buggy jam", never go to the commissary on pay day weekend as EVERYONE for miles around has decided to shop at once en mass, always have cash for the sackers as they work for tips, and don't forget your ID card in the visor of your car or people behind you get really cranky!

Tricare requires a degree to navigate. Never expect a same day appointment, bring a book for the waiting room and apparently 800 mg motrin is the "magic pill" that solves all ills.

I could write about Tricare and National healthcare for pages, but I won't. I appreciate having insurance and when I needed surgery this summer it was a god send, but if you just need a prescription its a nightmare.

FRG's are of the devil. I was on the board for one this past year. I felt I was revisiting my high school years. Gossip, back stabbing and who is wearing the best outfit. I was sure this was just my experience and so asked my girlfriends who were in different commands only to be told its pretty much a known rule that you only attend FRG meetings when the CO makes it requirement for information sharing unless you want to walk around with a knife in your back. Why didn't I know this?

I'll stop here for a rest. I'll save up for a later post.

Can I just say that the "Marrying into the Military Class" I took when I was engaged in no way prepared me for the host of pitfalls I've run across in the last year. >.<

Game on!!!