Yes, you are looking at a live map.

I’m on the flight up to Rhode Island.  I am supposed to be using this flight to cram my head full of Navy indoctrination information such as my chain of command and the lyrics to “Anchors Aweigh,” but instead, I am here writing this post. My heavy reluctance to memorize pages of information like the “11 General Orders of a Sentry” and the “Marine’s Hymn” before I actually get to OCS may be no surprise to those readers who saw my post on getting in Navy-grade shape.  Incidentally I don’t really understand the relationship between the Navy and the Marines. Of course this is something I could Google, but haven’t bothered (again, I suspect it is yet another thing that will be made blatantly obvious to me at OCS). I get the sense the Marines are the Navy’s younger brother, but the kind of younger sibling who messed with you and not the other way around. As if your mom had a Minotaur for her second kid.

Evidently Floridians do no go on vacation to Rhode Island because this may be the whitest flight I have ever taken out of Orlando, barring the time I flew to Dublin.  The flight attendants are pretty much the only ethnically diverse people on the plane. My Intel-unpracticed eye spotted some definite service members on the flight as well. They are the ones with standard issue camo backpacks and buzzed scalps. Civilians appear to be consigned to standard issue Red Sox jerseys.

Unlike my fellow grunts, I am not spending my last night of freedom in a lonely hotel room, since I have not only the bestest and most caring friends and family at home, I’ve got them in Rhode Island too!  My “sister from another mister” (to quote OITNB) is picking me up from the airport and we are heading back to her house which she shares with hubby and puppy. So let me introduce you to them. Uh-Manta is a fellow archaeologist and co-conspirator. She’s also a seriously talented artist, seamstress, DIY enthusiast, polyglot, gardener, world traveler, and life lover, and her gifts and abilities are only matched by her intellectual capacity. Honestly, CONTROL would love to have someone like her. She’s also funny.  Really funny. She met her husband, Doctor™, at Yale.  I’m calling Doctor™ “Doctor™” to distinguish his kind of doctoring and my kind of doctoring. If I stay up all night working, I have zero impact on the world,  and quite possibly a negative impact on myself, for example, by overdosing on caffeine and having to go to the hospital–where Doctor™ has been working all night too, but in a life-saving, gift-to-humanity type of way.  Basically I’m the type of doctor whose sole function is to keep libraries in business, whereas he is the real kind of doctor.  Last year Uh-Manta and Doctor™ adopted Black Shelter Dog who came with heartworm, but BSD has been going through (the fairly horrendous) treatment and has recently tested negative for the eggs. Fingers crossed she is fully cured in the coming months.  That’s another thing to appreciate about Uh-Manta and Doctor™: They are fellow dog enthusiasts.

I am looking forward to an afternoon of catching up with my friends and playing with Black Shelter Dog. I am not looking forward to calling my credit card company and figuring out why the <!*##> they closed my credit card account yesterday. They gave me a ring and said hey thanks for having an account with us since 2007, this account is now closed until they can figure out some issue that has arisen in billing.  Did I authorize any changes to the account? To which the answer was no, what are you even talking about?  They then transferred my call to someone else who had no idea what was going on, and put me on hold multiple times. Multiple long times. I ended up hanging up in disgust. I don’t have time to be Chase’s whipping girl. The Navy has that job locked up.

Further research: Enjoy the seafood.


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