Hey, thanks.

Hey, guys. I just wanted to thank you for following. It means the world to me, it really does. I would've been content just writing this for myself, but knowing you (and you, and you!) are reading, well, it just makes this so much easier.
So, to thank you, I've taken pictures of our very young garden. Sean and I started it together on Earth Day, and I am still of the opinion that that's a pretty cool thing to have done.

For now, it's just this strip leading up to our front door. I'd like to plant a vegetable garden in the backyard soon, but there is alot of work to be done back there first.

We bought these potted and transplanted them. I love their colors!

We also planted this little guy, who I'm now beginning to believe is a Sago Palm. Apparently, the Sago is pretty toxic. I'll have to keep an eye on this troublemaker.

Sprouts! We planted Foxglove and lots of Poppies here.

And one super-saturated picture of my yellow watering can, for good measure.

I've never had a garden before. I am excited now, thinking about how it will look if everything grows and blooms together. Sean won't be here to see it, though. I realized this when we were spreading the seeds and admittedly, the thought really bummed me out. Why start a garden together when he won't even be here to reap the benefits? I grew frustrated, but it didn't take me long to come to my senses. We're filling my life with as much beauty and light as possible before he leaves. He, my greatest source of light.

I'll continue posting pictures of the garden when there's noticeable growth. And hopefully we'll get the backyard done soon, so I can start growing herbs and vegetables. Yum.

Oh, right.

Joyous day, as we've found out Sean isn't going to Alabama. At all. Such is the army life - you grow accustomed to getting the run-around, getting faked out.

About 2.5 years ago, I knew nothing about the military. My father hadn't been drafted, I didn't talk to my estranged grandfather about what he had seen in WWII. I was one grade-A civilian. I didn't know quite what to expect when I waltzed onto Ramstein AB in December '07, and then warmed up to Baumholder in '08. I was introduced to this separate world, this unknown culture. Terminology is different, everyone speaks in acronyms. Places have different names, everyone wears the same uniform, everyone is essentially working towards the same goal. Waking up to Reveille in the morning, listening to PT formations call cadence as they run by. Call to Quarters playing at the end of the work day. It was all very alien to me at first. I had sworn up and down for so long that I'd have nothing to do with the military, those brainwashing scum. And now, thinking about all of it, I feel just a touch 'hooah'.

I don't ever say it, and I probably won't again. But it had to go in there somewhere. I digress.

I used to assume that the military, especially the Army, would be very industrious and efficient with all the orders and paperwork that go with every soldier. Like a well-oiled machine, no? Alas, that's not how things are. And everyday, something so simple as turning in some forms or requesting a piece of equipment that ISN'T broken becomes the fucking Odyssey. I feel for Sean everyday, and wish I could do more to help. Instead, I am the best wife I can be - I've been making his lunches everyday, taking care of the house, etc. I do what I can. I think this is how most military wives live.

Alabama?

Yesterday, Sean was told he'd be going to Ft. Rucker, Alabama on Friday (this Friday!) for a week of training. Apparently, there needs to be a PAO present at any training exercise, and since Sean counts for 50% of their office, he got tagged for the job. The other 50% is just some bitter, middle-aged woman. We won't talk about her.

Obviously, I'd keep him here if I could. They're taking a weekend away from us with this training, and there are so precious few of them left. But this might be good for me, I'm trying to look at it that way. A week to myself. I can hang out with some friends of mine from Austin, maybe pick up a little bud and play MW2 here. A week isn't so bad, and I understand that. It's just one hell of a pain in the ass for him. Maybe I'll smoke a cigarette in the bath while he's gone. Don't tell him, though.

An Introduction

This day is as good as any.

I'm Jessica. I've lived more in my 21 years than most my age have. I was born and raised in south Florida, spent my late teens in New York, then lived in Germany for two years. It was in Germany that I met my husband, Sean.

Sean is 24, and absolutely brilliant. He was an Infantryman when we met, stationed at Baumholder. Now, he's a Public Affairs Specialist and we are stationed at Ft. Hood, Texas.

I'm a strong, free-spirited woman.. most of the time, at least. I have nine tattoos, eight piercings, and sometimes a bit of an attitude. I smoke, I drink. I read classic literature and listen to lo-fi indie. I sing along. I write far less than I used to. I ride my bike to and from work, and work is an independently-owned cafe in which we serve espresso, wine, locally brewed beers, sandwiches, wraps, and smoothies. I fell in love with Austin, and try to spend as much time there as possible. I also eat very little meat, if any at all.

Sean is an old soul with a young heart.. or maybe it's the other way around. I always have trouble finding the right words to describe his character. I fell in love, and I fell hard when we met. He knows himself well, and always finds the perfect words for any situation. He writes beautifully, far more eloquently than I could ever hope to. He makes me laugh everyday. He is constantly, unintentionally reminding me why I love him and why we are married.

We've been married just over 7 months now, and he is already deploying. We don't know much at the moment, but we know that he's leaving in July. We know he's going to Afghanistan. We know he'll be there for a year. The army is shite, but what can you do? It's our first deployment as a couple (I met him just after he got back from Iraq last year), and I am scared. I can't even fathom a year away from him, and it's going to begin in just a couple months. I wonder if I'll still feel him in my soul like I do now in 5 months. 9 months. A year. It hurts to think about this.