Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot?

Also known as Open Letter: Universe Edition

So what is it? I declare that I’m going to be happy and you have to fart around all over me? I decide that I’m not going to mope and you’re going to shit on my dreams? I dare to strive towards climbing out of this damnable whole that I’ve found myself in and you’re going to shove me back in with a feces coated stick?

I. Don’t. Think. So.

It’s not going to work. This day may have sucked – but guess what, I actually opened my mouth and spoke up. We’re going to make it better. We’re going to make the hurt go away. We’re going to stop the tears.

What’s wrong universe? What did I do? I throw nothing but love and happiness, okay and maybe a little stern teacher-ing, into you and I get nothing but thorns in return?

I know that life isn’t fair, but I’d take marginally less against me at this point. I mean, can’t anything go my way? And please, don’t tell me that getting the pink iPod for cheap is why I’m reaping the craptastic bounty that was today. All I did was call the seller out on a jacked up price.

I’m lonely. I get it. That doesn’t mean you have to shove it in my face. You could make it a little less obvious that I’m all alone out here.

But today, you went too far. I’m not standing for it. I told you, I’m in a fighting mood. I’m not going to just cower and wimper under the covers. I will keep throwing myself out there.

You. Can’t. Stop. Me.

I don’t care, give it your best shot. I will not let you bring me down. You’re not fighting just me. I have friends and they are well armed.

~The Countess~

Open Letter: Blogging Military Spouses Edition

Dear Blogging Military Spouses,

We are out here and we are out here in force. Whether we start our blog to keep family updated on our lives or to keep us entertained during deployments, we have found the internet and taken it by storm. We’ve ventured away from facebook and twitter to the calmer seas of blopspot and wordpress. We post vacation pictures, funny stories, and, unfortunately, all to often things we shouldn’t. There are lots of warnings out there on the internet for bloggers and general browsers alike and I guess this is just my addition to the force.

Be careful about identifying yourself, my friends. We want to feel safe in our family oriented blogs, but we’re not. I have a blog that is used to keep B and I’s families up to date on us. I do use our first names there. But, we have relatively generic first names. Enough so that I could give them to you and if you googled our first names you wouldn’t come up with our blog. If my first name was Ilyatoya or B’s was Stancarmichael, well I’d probably be more careful about using names. As it is, we can blend in. But if you use your given names and your surname in your blog address – don’t be surprised when people your spouse works with find you. A generic blog address goes a long way in hiding who you are from people that you’d rather not read your blog.

Honestly, this has been gone over many times, but it can’t be said enough. Operational Security and personal security. Please quit posting on your blog when your spouse is going down range or coming back. Please. You might not think it a big deal to talk about your honey coming back home on such and such a date and that you’ll see him/her in so many hours – but other people might. Information about you being home alone or not home at all, doesn’t belong on the internet. Troop movement, doesn’t belong on the internet. Keep the info to yourself. It’s always better safe than sorry.

Think twice about posting where you’re stationed. Yeah, I know, I do this too. You can go to my other blog and find easily where we are stationed. But you won’t ever see anything over there with me ranting about my husband’s job. You can even find a pretty good guess on this blog – but again – I don’t gripe about his work. Mine? Sure, it’s fair game. But his is off limits. If you do name your base or area, just realize that people can find you so monitor what you say.

Continuing on the above theme, the internet is not the place to gripe about your spouses job. Yes, the hours are long and often suck. Yes, the schedules are sporadic and often change. Yes, deployments are hard and no one likes them. Send it in an email to your mom or best friend. Don’t talk about how you’re researching if your spouse can even be worked that hard – the answer is yes.

Are you even aware that the AF has published protocol on blogs mentioning the AF? Because they do. I’m not sure about other branches of service, but the AF has specific guidelines on how to approach blogs mentioning it. It’s okay to mention them. I’m not saying to blacklist your spouse’s job or duties. I’m saying to be careful in how you say it. Be careful in what information you make available. Be careful in your rants and celebrations.

The internet is vast and you never know who might be reading. Blog that way and you’ll be much better off. The rest of us won’t be so worried about the backlash from what you’ve said.

Thanks,

~The Countess~

Open Letter: Waitress Edition

~This is the first in a series of rants that I’ve been collecting in my head. The setting for this letter was Friday night’s date night dinner with my husband. Our restaurant choices are limited and we tried a new one in hopes of expanding our routine. In spite of the free coupons we have to lure us back, I will never voluntarily step foot in this establishment again.~

Dear Waitress,

I get that you are new to the job. That much was evident in the first five minutes of being seated. When you come over to take orders, try making eye contact instead of staring at the ground. I want to know for sure that you’ve heard me. Also on this subject, when you take the drink orders please remember to go ahead and ask if we have any questions or if there’s anything else we need. That saves us from having to wave you down to ask you what the soup of the day is. Speaking of which, please don’t ever describe a gnocchi to me again as a “chicken noodle soup with ravioli” because I won’t order based on that description when I would have eaten it if you’d told me what it was called. (Quick lesson: know your menu)

A good rule of thumb to go by, is that if your customers have empty glasses, they’d probably like refills. A way to avoid having to stop by their table every ten minutes is to fill their glasses more than half full with liquid. Yes, I’m serious, go ahead and fill it up to the top, we aren’t children, we won’t spill it. Oh yeah, and I get that you had a booth of friends or family there, but if they’re that much of a distraction to you, please ask them to leave. Your tip is diminishing rapidly as we watch you continually check on them while no one else in our section can get your attention. (Quick lesson: your tip is based directly on the service rendered)

Really, all of that was probably just going to get you a bad tip. We try and be fair, but, service is service and I will not reward you for doing a poor job. Of course, then you went and let the catalyst happen. You paid so little attention to anyone but that one booth, that your manager had to serve our plates. And my ravioli was tepid at best. When you came by the table and I complained, you did a great job of saying you would take care of it for me. I’ll admit that by now I was doubtful, after all, I’d just had a 15 dollar plate served to me cold; but I was willing to hope for the best.

Five minutes later you return with my plate and warned me that it was exceedingly hot. You took off so fast that I couldn’t even tell you that I needed a new fork. After I snagged one from a nearby table, I looked down at my plate and was horrified. For there, on the plate, was the half eaten ravioli that you’d taken to the kitchen. I stared in shock, and a bit of horror, as I realized that my entire plate had just been reheated. The sauce was now congealed on the plate and the ravioli looked rubbery and burned. Again we called you to the table, I asked how it had been reheated and you told me you had just stuck it in the oven. I asked how that could possibly be safe or sanitary and you said it was company policy. I asked for your manager.

You took your sweet time (ten minutes) in talking to him and getting him to come to our table. When he did get there, he assured me that in no way was it the restaurant policy to reheat plates in the oven as it is unsanitary and overcooks the food. (Quick lesson: if you’re going to give excuses, at least make sure that they’re true) At this point in time, I was on the edge of tears and just wanted to go home. We thanked the manager, asked for my dish to be removed from the ticket and asked for our check. He brought it to us and then left you to process our receipt.

Again you were nowhere to be seen. One of your coworkers went after you twice for us as we sat for an extra fifteen minutes waiting for you to come around our table. (Quick lesson: if you’ve embarassed yourself by lying to a customer, don’t make it worse by prolonging the amount of time that they have to spend in your store) You finally came, left, and returned with nary a word.

We left your restaurant with a ruined meal and a ruined evening. By that time it was too late for us to go anywhere else to get food. We have coupons for your restaurant from your manager. I think I’ll give them to my worst enemies and tell them to ask for your section. Oh wait, I don’t hate anyone that much.

Sincerely,

~The Countess~