My Poor Brain

I am very stressed out.

Because of the economy, and retail struggling as a whole, my hours have been cut down to...oh, about 2 shifts per week.  Since there is essentially no work to be found in Michigan, I am obliged to relocate to the St Louis area, to work for my uncle.  I resisted this idea for a long time, naively hoping that I could find a decent full-time job here.  

But I am in debt up to my eyeballs, so that kind of sucked the life out of my negotiating skills.

I've now accepted the fact that I'm moving, as soon as my dad works out the details with my uncle.  Actually, there are many aspects of this I'm looking forward to.

Obviously, moving away from Ben is not one of them.  My hope is that I will have saved up enough money by the end of the summer to get an apartment, and that he can come down and stay with me for a few months until...he leaves for the Navy.

We had both toyed with the idea of joining the military for some months now.  Don't get me wrong, I'm a lover not a fighter...but the idea of good health insurance, cheap car insurance, and the bulk of my student loans paid off was becoming increasingly tempting.  

Ultimately I decided that I'm too much of a wimp to make it through boot camp, and Ben was rather insistent that he should be the one to go if one of us joined.  And my mom said I'm too cute for the Army.  We had kind of set the idea aside for awhile, but as our finances shrank, Ben went to see the Navy recruiter.  He just had his physical earlier this week, and is officially signed up.

To be honest, I don't think it's hit me yet.  When he first decided that he was definitely going to sign up, I got excited and started looking at 'I Love My Sailor' t-shirts, and Navy car magnets.  Then when he actually signed the paperwork, my excitement dwindled.  I think for a time I was more enamored with the *idea* of him joining the Navy, rather than what his enlistment truly meant.  

That's not to say that this wasn't a joint decision that we discussed at length - it was - but of course I couldn't have any idea how I was going to feel when things actually were in motion.  I don't have anything to compare this to.  He plans to become a Navy diver, so at least there's not a large demand in Iraq or Afghanistan...but I'm still going to be worried.  I know this will be a good experience for him, if for no other reason than it gives him the funds to be able to complete his bachelor's (his parents have refused to cosign on any more student loans).

Well, here's hoping.  And Semper Fi...no, wait, that's the Marines.  Does the Navy even have a motto?  I have no idea - Ben's factbook doesn't say, though interestingly enough it does have the lyrics to 'Anchors Aweigh'.  Heh.

Finger Lickin' Good

Ben & I were watching Jackass 2.5 the other night (confession time - even though I wouldn't do about 99.9% of the things they do on that show, I do enjoy watching it) and we saw Stevo drink beer poured down the, oh, let's say...4 foot fingernails of a man in India.  

Let me repeat that: Four. Foot. Fingernails.

They were green, and slimy in appearance.  The thumbnail curled back in on itself, much like a watch spring, only attached to your hand.  The other nails extended nearly to the ground, twisting like some sort of nasty fingernail linguine.  The man protected his nails in a burlap-type sack, presumably to keep them from cracking.  

After getting over the grossness of drinking beer off someone's fingernails (anyone's fingernails, no matter what length...ew. Just the idea of biting my own nails is icky.), Ben & I contemplated the difficulty of carrying around such a weight.  I mean, that's got to be a considerable strain on the arm and hand, since it didn't look like he could fully relax his arm without having the nails crunch on the floor (*shuddering at visual image*).  How would you dress yourself?  Or shower?  Or sleep?  It seems like way too much inconvenience, for no real reason.