<data:blog.pageTitle/>

This Page

has moved to a new address:

http://www.aboyagirlandthemarinecorps.com

Sorry for the inconvenience…

Redirection provided by Blogger to WordPress Migration Service
<data:blog.pageTitle/>

This Page

has moved to a new address:

http://www.aboyagirlandthemarinecorps.com

Sorry for the inconvenience…

Redirection provided by Blogger to WordPress Migration Service
A Boy, A Girl, and The Marine Corps: A Love Triangle: December 2012

A Boy, A Girl, and The Marine Corps: A Love Triangle

"I cast my lot with a Marine and where he was, was home to me." ~ Anonymous.

Monday, December 10, 2012

I've moved, come find me!

So, this will be the last post on this here blog address.  :)

I'm officially a self hosted blogger!!!!  New address is aboyagirlandthemarinecorps.com

I was going to be making an official redirect, but it will be happening later this week instead.  Mostly because I'm exhausted and am too tired to do much of anything today after a long weekend at work.

I hope to see you all at my new site!

Photobucket

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Funny Deployment Stories: TAD

You all may remember my Deployment Series in which a number of lovely ladies shared their deployment experiences and their tips to survive.  But deployments aren't always all bad.  Sometimes there are some pretty funny things that happen and I'm happy to share with you a few stories that show the funny side of deployments.  If you have a funny deployment story you'd like to share, please email me!  I'd love to highlight your story! 
Hi, I'm Holly. I blog, intermittently, over at The Robertson Clann. I say intermittently because I'm an awful blogger. But I'm great on facebook! Probably only because I can access it on my phone and it's easier. I'm a lurker though. If your post shows up in my feed I read it. Or in my inbox... if not then, well, I probably don't. Anyway, I said I'd get this post emailed by the end of the day, so here goes. My funny TAD story.

I was lucky Eric didn't deploy while we were married/stationed at MCLB. But Once a month for a week or more, he and his partner (in crime) Would drive from MCLB to Alabama. I went with him every once in a while in the beginning, but man let me tell you. Room service gets OOOOOLD after a while. Well, not room service, but just the general having to go out for everything, every meal. I Just felt gross. So after the first couple times I just stayed home and at night my Husband would call me or we would skype.
anyway one week he decides on a whim to grow a field stache. Which as many of you may know if just plain ridiculous. He swore up and down he wouldn't let me see it, because even HE knew he looked ridiculous. Honestly he looked like a 70's porn star.
One night for whatever reason he decided not to go out with the guys. He missed me and was lonely. So he skyped me. and lo an behold the stach. Ladies, I laughed so hard I cried. I had NEVER seen my husband with any kind of facial hair ever. and it was HILARIOUS. It was red and scruffy and awful. he had completely forgotten about it. Of course in the morning he shaved it and I never got a photo of it. I was FAR to busy laughing to take a screen shot.
However, I did photoshop an image to give you a general idea about what he looked like that night.



Photobucket

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Guest Post: Fear

I'd like to introduce to you Allie, a fabulous blogger and fellow Dr. Who nerd.  She blogs over at My Marine and Me.  Please check out her blog and thank her for writing such a wonderfully honest post for me.  She told me she was inspired by my posts about my fears and I feel very honored that she would share her fears with my readers.

***

I have seen a lot of bloggers discuss their fears lately and quite frankly, it impresses the heck out of me! To write about something that scares you is extremely personal and gives readers a big look into who you are as a person. For a lot of blogs it is easy to forget there is a person sitting at a computer and actually writing it, and that can be for many reasons. Whether their blog is overrun with reviews and give aways and offers no personal information or if all you get is the fluff, sometimes it is easy to slowly stop reading and back away. But the bloggers who reveal something about who they are, something deep and meaningful and (dare I say it?), human, makes all the difference. Looking at my latest entries on my own blog I realized I have been flirting with fluffy for awhile. I haven’t felt personal or written something extremely meaningful in awhile. Well, maybe it is time to change that.

What am I afraid of?

Spiders and snakes don’t really bother me. I can squish an offending arachnid without having to use a blowtorch and I have held snakes and seen them in the wild. Am I thrilled about it? No. I won’t be poking them with a stick or having them as pets anytime soon, but I can honestly say I am not afraid of them. As a theatre major I have no problems standing up in front of a large crowd. I get a healthy amount of stage fright before a performance and if those butterflies weren’t there I think it would worry me. That adrenaline is a wonderful thing. I ride roller coasters, I can handle heights pretty well and I can get on an airplane with a simple prayer before take off… more out of tradition than anything else. What I am afraid of seems so childish to me, something most people accept as part of life and are at least accepting of it.

I am afraid of dying.

Honestly I was convinced growing up that I was never going to die. I’d live forever, I am me! And then at the beach one day I got caught under a wave while learning to body surf and inhaled a good bit of water. Now, this was not a near death experience, I was just eight years old and was held under too long and quickly saved by my dad. But it was the moment I realized my own mortality and it terrified me.

I know almost everyone does not want to die, that is part of being human, but I don’t know many people who are terrified of it. If I think about it too much I can literally start hyperventilating and my hands and face will go numb.

Part of me feels like this fear is why I wanted to be an actress… so even if I had to die in the physical world I would always be remembered. I’d be like Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, Elizabeth Taylor, Judy Garland and all the timeless women of the silver screen where everyone knows their names. I wouldn’t be forgotten. When I revealed this to my husband years ago he asked the important question, am I more afraid of dying or being forgotten? I thought about it and sadly realized it was both. I remembered what it was like to have the ocean rush into my lungs and feeling such terror but I also shivered at the thought of just being forgotten. I know my family and friends will never forget me, but that fades. I couldn’t tell you my great-great-grandmother’s name or anything about her. I know she existed, but that is it, and I want to do more than exist in the eyes of the future generations.

Seeing it in print seems so selfish and so trivial, but no one said fear was a pretty thing. To be afraid of the end of your life and question what comes next (both here on Earth and to you after you are gone) seems petty, but one cannot help what they fear.

Oh, and bees.

I really hate bees.



Photobucket

Monday, December 3, 2012

I'm Moving!

Well, my blog is moving.

Hello, I'm A Girl and I have just recently made the leap and purchased my domain.

I'm still getting the new site all set up, but Keep an eye out for the official announcement.  This blog will be redirected, so don't worry if you forget to follow at first.  I will also maintain my Google account so that I can follow all the blogs I follow on GFC if I'm unable to get them any other way.

My new blog will have some really cool features!  I'm creating an easier way to find posts that interest you, I will be opening up to ad space (keep that in mind in case you might want to advertise your blog or business with me) and I will have a whole new look.

I'll announce the official launch soon... Because I don't have one just yet.

Photobucket