Missing him...

Anyone who knows me knows me as a satisfied single woman. Never have I felt the need to be in a relationship. Never had the desire to get married. Very content at the life I have created for myself. Never lonely. My own best friend. Fast forward to three months ago...

Met me a man. A good man. A charming man. A man who flew in under my obviously malfunctioning radar. Sneaky, this one is too! His name is Eric. We were just friends. Developing a good solid friendship. Then he turned the tables on my unsuspecting self and kissed me. He very quickly went from being only my friend, to being my sweetheart. Fast forward to yesterday...

My sweetie left for deployment yesterday. I am experiencing emotions I have never felt. I found myself getting teary eyed several days prior to his leaving. I was teary because I knew I would miss him. I was teary because I was afraid of missing him. I was teary because I knew I would worry about him. There are very few people that I know who I would have to worry about less than my Eric. He's very good at what he does and I know I don't need to worry, but the common sense that comes with knowing that has been overridden by this new emotion I am experiencing. One that doesn't allow you to separate the fact that your sweetie is good at what he does and the fact that he is your sweetie and THAT is why you worry.

I gave my sweetheart a hug and a kiss goodbye, got in my car, and drove away. My head was spinning as I headed off base. And not in a good way. It was a rough first night. It's a rough first day. But I am already looking forward to sending him care packages and kisses though the mail.

The wonders of the NCC

Currently I am on a business trip (what's known as a "TDY" in the military) to Virginia. It's called the "Leesburg Conference". Even though the conference center is not physically IN Leesburg, it's actually in Lansdowne, VA it's still called the Leesburg conference. Whatever.

The Conference center, formally called The National Conference Center (or the NCC as the post title refers to), is a compound that was built by Xerox way back in the days of TQM and TQL. That was what they used to call things like Six Sigma and AFSO 21 now a days. It was built to be 'genius' and 'efficient' in it's design and layout. You eat here, sleep here, have conference sessions here, classes here, on and on. And I will be the first to tell you, it's the most F*CKED UP LAYOUT EVER CREATED. There is no rhyme or reason to where your room is or where the conferences are. It's built in series of underground tunnels that are so confusing that the top medical minds of the Air Force can't figure out where to go.

I would really like to meet the person who came up with this design, and then meet the approval authority who said "This is bloody brilliant! Go with it!" and bitch slap 'em both.

Speaking of dying...

Actually, more like THINKING I was going to die...

At about 4:15 this morning my dog, Macy, alerted to something. It doesn't happen very often, but I just assumed it was a squirrel or something animal related running in the yard. About 3 minutes later the smoke alarms went off in my house. Now I may have blogged about this previously, but in case I didn't allow me to shed some background light on fire alarms and me...

During the past year I spent in Korea, I lived in a dorm. And in that dorm, the fire alarm went off about 17 times, always in the middle of the night. And every time it would go off we would have to get up, go outside in the cold, and wait for the fire department to 'clear' the building so we could take our weary asses back in and go back to sleep.

Back to this morning...the smoke alarms in my house go off. In my sleepy state, I reverted back to being in Korea. I was PISSED. I slowly got up, opened my eyes and Macy barked again. Oh fuck. I am not in Korea. The alarm is in my house. I go out into my hallway and can both see and smell smoke. Fuck. I have to save Macy. "MACY!" I shout. Wait, I have no clothes on. Fuck. Throw on jeans and shirt. All of which are inside out and/or backwards. Grab the following...Macy, phone, computer. These were the things on my mental list of "items i would save if ever in a fire". How neat that you remember that during times of panic. What you don't think about however, is that while you are trying to remember how to disconnect the cable from the back of the computer, visions of fire blocking you from getting downstairs and out the door fill your mind and you wonder if it's worth saving the computer if it means having to leap like Superman out your second story window.

Get downstairs, put dog and computer in car, back car out of garage a safe distance from house. Leave car running in case it needs to be moved farther away from house. Go back inside house, phone in hand, still see and smell smoke. It's gettin' real. Dial 911. Pace around house while 911 operator listens to you rant about having just bought the house and amusing you as you ask if you should open door to attic. I'm convinced it's coming from there. I am afraid enough to NOT open attic. Enter bonus room. The smell of something burning is overpowering. This is insane. Think "thank god I bought insurance". Put hands on doors of bonus room interior to see if they feel warm (remembered that one from elementary school, thank you). They don't. Still convinced my attic is in flames. Where are the fire people dammit??? Right, I live in bumfuck North Carolina. It's a 10 mile drive from the closest fire department. Go outside. Look up at house. Fully expect to see home's attic engulfed in flames. No flames. Wow. Maybe I will get lucky.

First fire person arrives. It's a volunteer firefighter. I bring him into house. We go upstairs. He the smells smoke too. But the smell has diminished somewhat from what it was before. He asks, did you turn your heat on for the first time last night? Nope. Did that yesterday. It was on a couple times during the day. Still, never thought of that. Would new heating generate enough smoke and heat to set off my alarms?? Apparently so.

The good news is that the fire people said that I was the 6th house that night this happened to. I guess all's well that ends well, no?

If I died, what would I want people to remember about me?

This was kind of fun to write. Not nearly as morbid as I thought. Or maybe it is and I am just wierd. Anyway, here it is:

I would want people to remember how happy I was. I would want people to think of me as someone who lived life and enjoyed life. I hope that people would speak about me and not ever be afraid to bring up my name in conversation. It's good to remember people you liked and it's enjoyable to talk about them. It helps to keep their memory alive.

I hope that when people speak about me the sentence always starts with a laugh and something like..."...Ilisa always did this thing that was so funny..."

I want people to smile when they think about me. Hell I hope there are memories of me that make people laugh out loud on a regular basis. Perhaps it'd be ok if people shed a tear or two because they miss me, even if it's several years after I am gone. It's humbling to be thought that highly of.

I want people to remember how much I loved Halloween no matter how old I got. I want people to think of me and smile every time they see anything related to Snoopy.

If GOD FORBID i was to die young those around me would have to put their own feelings aside and remember that I would want to donate my organs. Also I truly hope that they would remember that I felt very strongly that quality of life is WAY more important than quantity of life.

I hope people remember me with respect. I hope people remember me as a good person. Perhaps someone they'd be proud to have their children emulate when they become adults. I hope people remember my work ethic and never as someone who was lazy, apathetic, or disingenuous. I hope people remember me as honest, trustworthy and generous.

Mostly I hope that the people I loved never had to question how much I loved them.