My name is Margaret S******, and I’m an overachiever.

I realized it today…First, I had to get to school early to talk to my AP History professor about an alternative theme for a research paper.  I then went to AP German class where we were planning a field trip.  Then, to AP English, where I lead a discussion over Hughes.  Back to AP History class; I spent my time online on my JCCC account reserving books on Gun Control for my paper.  20 minutes for lunch.  Then to Honors PreCalc – I get uber excited in math, it drives my teacher insane – where I drew out a quick proof on the Law of Sines and did my homework…ran to make it to AP Chemistry; we finished a pretest and the prework for a lab.  World Geography last hour; I’m leader of our ‘group’ where we are designing a utopian country…The bell rang, and I was down in the Library, talking to J. about showing part of a veteran interview that I conducted, for tomorrow’s History Club Meeting (I’m VP, and leader of our Veteran’s History Project).  Quickly scooped up the two girls I take to swim practice.  One hour deck work, one hour in pool, 3100 meters swam.  Fifteen minutes to help my exchange student figure out possible rides home, then into the back room to start Lifeguard training.  Nice thick textbook + videos.  Spent two hours with seven other people in the classroom, moved to the pool.  Spent two more hours swimming laps, swimming with weights, swimming with rescue tubes, learning basic rescues, etc…

By nine, I’m dying from hunger and exhaustion…

So I drive home, grab a bite, run downstairs to fax C. a form.  Run back upstairs to edit German poetry, take a shower, and read more Absalom Absalom.  Also received more information today about Girl’s State this summer.  I think I’m going to run for the House of Representatives.  I also need to call in to work before I forget…

I need a break o.0

M.

My open calculus teacher has the strangest sense of humor.

M.  If you are flying in a plane, what is the probability you will crash?

Mr. M.  Well, very low; there are only, what, 2 crashes per day?  But you’d have to factor in the age of the airplane, the age of the pilot, his sobriety..

M.  His what?

Mr. M.  Then again, you could argue that if the pilot was drunk, you’d be okay as long as he aimed for the middle runway from the three he saw…

At swim today we swam 3100 meters in one hour.  I can’t move my arms; I’m leaden.  I love it.  But now I’m really really hungry…must amend that…our next meet is on the 31st.  Most likely, I’ll do the 100 Fly, 200 IM, 100 Breast, 200 Free, and maybe a relay.  Aiming for state this year; wish me luck

Speaking of state, I was chosen for The American Legion Auxiliary Girl’s State.  There was funding for 6 girls in Shawnee Mission schools; 26 interviewed.  I received a call at ten PM last night – I made it!  It’s for a week in early June, in Lawrence (KU), and there will be several Senators, Representatives, Govenors, Judges, etc. there.  Take a peek at the website for information – its pretty much a facsimile of the American government, with girls from all over Kansas voting, running, and electing for offices.  We will then be presented with issues and see how our government functions.  Some of the girls will then move on to Nationals.  There is, similarly, a boy’s state.  I love history, America, and politics – I’m a D.C. girl, after all – so I’m so so so super excited!  Plus, there are several scholarships I can get through this program – even more because I’m a military child.  I’ll update on here often as I gather more information.  Ahh so excited just to be chosen!

For those who have been worried about C., he will be returning to Oklahoma City on Wednesday to finish his physical.  I’m so proud of him.

M

Old picture of swim team.  I’m third from right.

An older poem of mine…

A crisp uniform at the edge of his bed; images of a boy in his father’s livery.  A hat two sizes too large and boots laced up inaptly by tiny hands – no, I forget, he’s a man today.  His boots now gleam and his hat leans back, revealing the face of the boy, unchanged…  A blanket unfolded under the dusk; the stars counted and laughed upon and kissed upon and wished upon.  I wish you’d stay here with me.  Prairie grass undulates lazily, an unperturbed moon-shaving dangles; solacing light streak and dance through the breathing stalks, softly.  Your heart beat matches mine, I forget we are separate people.  Your hand rests tenderly on my stomach, your smile reflecting the blue shade of moonlight.  I inhale your presence like a daisy does the sunlight.  You are my sunshine, my moonshine, my light in all darkness.  Your lips are soft on mine, my neck, my chest, my stomach where your hand still resides…  Now I hug you lightly, the 0500 hour flight will not wait for nostalgia.  Off now goes my soldier, away from the protecting plains to the sands still stained with blood.  I have already written you pages of letters, will you write back?…  I sit on the blankets alone tonight, a moonless, lightless, hopeless night.  My hand presses on my stomach, I feel a soft pressing back.  Meanwhile the soldier – the son, the brother, the uncle, the husband, the father – is boxed in with his men on the cargo plane, tightly, like a sheep to slaughter.

M.

My Plans For This Week:  I’m staying with Jen until Thursday.  Then Hyere-Bear and I are hopping a plane to Dallas; from there to KCI.  Today the three of us went to the beach on base.  The water was 60 degrees, but that didn’t keep me out.  Set almost like a cove, the teal waves were much gentler, allowing a surreal glimpse of the white-sand floor.  Jellyfish lazily hovered in waist-deep brine like clouds stained purple by the sunset.  Crab corpses littered the brittle, chalky shore – bloodless remainders of some untold battle, discarded armor of defeated soldiers.  Breaking the trance were the trainers overhead – the whoop of helicopter blades mixing with the rrrrrrush of the jets in syncopated time.  A nice sunburn is my reminder of the relaxing day.  We all just had dinner, ending in a joke-a-thon with the kids.

M.  Two men were sitting on a boat.  Pete and Repeat.  Pete falls off – who’s left?

H. + Christian.  Repeat.

M.  Two men were sitting on a boat.  Pete and Repeat.  Pete falls off -

H.  Repeat!

M.  Two men were sitting on a boat.  Pete and -

H.  Repeat!  Repeat!  Repeat!

M.  Two men -

H. REPEAT!

I later explained to her that repeat meant to “say again”.  This ended in her and Christian on the floor laughing. 

I also spent some time with little Chloe and Conner on the trampoline.  Chloe is growing attached to her Aunt Maggie – I’m going to be sad when I leave.  A neighbor brought over some old little girl clothes and Chloe tried on more dresses than a high school senior for prom – they are now scattered over the floor like brightly colored candy wrappers, torn from their sugar-sticky exhibit.

As for C.:  He spent the day in Independence, conversing with his staff sergeant about paperwork.  He’ll be in Oklahoma City until Thursday evening in order to take the military’s standardized test (similar to an ACT) and renew his physical.  Friday morning he’ll head over to see me and stay the night.  He is so terribly excited about PLC – I have no choice but to be proud and immensely supportive.  I pray for him.

I also finished The Namesake today.  A really good read with a sad ending.  I’d suggest it to fellow readers.

M

Christian is six, and he has always had a little bit of a lisp.

Today, he bought a disk launcher.

M:  Ow!  What was that?

Christian:  My dick launcher Aunt Maggie!

M:  You’re WHAT?

Christian:  I hit you with my dicks!  You see, you can only fit four of them in here at a time though.

M:  Uhhmm…

Christian: -pointing to Connor- His doesn’t hurt as bad because it doesn’t go as fast.

M:  It looks like Sammy got ahold of one of your blue disks!

Christian:  -chasing after the dog-  No, you aren’t supposed to chew on the dicks!

I love innocent children >.<

M

Day One:

Or I guess two, considering we arrived yesterday.

We are staying just off base.  I guess Jen doesn’t live on base because officer housing isn’t very good, but the little house they rent is really nice.  Hyeri and I are staying in the boys’ room, and they are staying in the play room.  Step mom is staying in Chloe’s room, and Chloe is sleeping with her mom.  Poor Chloe is so sick.  We took her to the NHP (Naval Hospital of Pensacola) today.  She tested negative for strep, which is a relief.  Right now I’m worn out from chasing Conner around, playing tickle monster, rocketship in his tent, trampoline…its fun.  Hyeri is having a blast with their puppy, Sammy.  Step mom is reading in the living room.

I think she heard me talking to my mom about how uncomfortable I felt.  She’s acting a lot nicer.  I’m relieved.  I still wish I could just be with my sister without any awkwardness but…oh well. 

So – I’ll see if I can get a picture – but Conner has this adorable body pillow with Jeff on it in his BDUs.  What a great idea for kids with their daddy deployed!  Jen also has a flag with one star hanging in the window.  I remember those well.  I can’t wait to see yellow ribbons…Jeff might come home as early as July!  I would laugh if he and C. came home at the same time.

While talking about military, my friend Z. enlisted in the Navy yesterday.  Part of me is like, alright, go Zak!  Going to train as MP, move to JAG and Naval Law, much like my brother Jeff.  At the same time…God he’s just so young!  What, maybe 18?  He’ll probably leave in May, too…it’s weird.  I’m used to being on bases and forts and seeing all these young men and women in uniform…to see people I care about and love is normal, like my parents and siblings…but to see the boys I’ve grown close to…it will be difficult, I think.  J. is entering the National Guard, too…

I’m proud of J., proud of Z., especially proud of C…but I don’t want to end up like my sister, raising three kids basically alone.  Am I choosing that fate by staying with C.?

Speaking of kids, Conner is looking for me, so I guess I should go.

M.

Daily Quote : If there is not the war, you don’t get the great general; if there is not a great occasion, you don’t get a great statesman; if Lincoln had lived in a time of peace, no one would have known his name Theodore Roosevelt

I was really really excited to go down to Florida and see my sister and her three kids.

When I arrived, I found out my sister’s mom hadn’t left yet.

She will be staying until Monday.  I leave Wednesday.

My dad was married to her before marrying my mom.  She – we’ll call her my step mom – resents me and blames me for her failed marriage with my dad.  According to her, if I wasn’t born, her family wouldn’t have been torn apart.  My own mom raised her step kids – my brother and sisters – like her own.  My step mom won’t give me the time of day.  I am not really upset about this, because I’ve grown up with it.  At the same time, its not fair.  It’s not my fault I was born, not my fault my dad divorced her and married my mom, not my fault for anything in their relationship…

And my step mom loves to trash talk my family…

How can I be respectful to her?!

God does anyone else have this problem?! 

M

A girl at my school – we’ll call her Mary – is four months pregnant.

She was having trouble balancing her tray and fourth-hour books.

She fell.

Someone called out “Wow, that failed as badly as your boyfriend’s condom”.

I don’t know who said it.

I wish I had stood up for her…

M.

Soldiers should exist as statistics, as tally marks of those dead

Insignificant scores and scratches on life’s losing ticket.

Soldiers shouldn’t be my father, my brother, my husband, my son

Innocence sullied by damnable reality.

M

 Last year my family hosted out first exchange student.

It didn’t work out.

By the beginning of the second semester, we were ready to literally kill eachother.

But this post isn’t about her.

Around Christmastime, another exchange-student entered our home.  Her original host-family did not want to take care of her, if she could not continue to pay them $300 a month for room + food.  She was a homeless bird from Norway, and her name is Katie.  She was supposed to stay with us just temporarily, but when no acceptable home was found (we gave it about two weeks), my family filled out the paperwork to keep her the rest of the year.  The original exchange student was not happy – she insisted Katie made her look bad, and that they could not both live at our house.  To make a long story short, the original student left our family (by her own choice) and stayed with a friend.  A little over a month later, she was sent home for illegal activities.

Katie became my big sister.  There was something so unique about her – not the branded ‘unique’ that so many kids use as a tool to try harder to fit in – she was really one-of-a-kind.  She wore huge, lime green glasses; leopard spandex short-pants; and too-large, bright pink Hurley shirts.  Katie loved to wear her hair in french-braids, and always had at least two bracelets made of hemp dangling from her wrists.  She loved colorful everything – hairbands, shoes, dresses – and none of it ever needed to match.

And soccer – God did Katie love soccer!  She was never the best player, but she put all her energy into it.  Despite the cold, I would go and watch her at her games.  On the sidelines for more than half of the time, she would yell out to me did you see did you see for every kick, pass, block, and goal.  I wish, now, that I had gone to her games more often…

There was a difficult time when her friend, Guro (another Norwegian exchange student) was nearly killed in a car wreck.  The driver – R. – was also critically injured.  Guro went into a vegetative state, and was air-ambulanced to Norway in the spring.  Within the last few weeks, she has started moving around and communicating through blinking…but she is still a long way from recovering.  It is safe to say, Katie wasn’t herself for a while…she would go and spend time with Guro’s old host family, and always came back even more sad.

But Katie was still Katie.  She taught me Norwegian words, giving me the nickname “Jaevel” and earning the nickname “Hurpe”.  She skipped down the halls and sang Winnie The Pooh in Norwegian and was fascinated by brightly colored bowling balls…In her room was a huge Norwegian flag (I helped her personalize her room…it was fun) over her bed.  Countless times at 11 or even 12 at night I would crawl onto her bed and talk about life.  She never judged me and I never judged her.  She helped me so much to gain confidence in who I was; that I wasn’t just another pair of feet trudging to school, or another pair of hands typing away.  She taught me not to just go through the motions – but to stop, and to live consciously.

She was more than my best friend – she was my sister – and she still is.  I talk to her weekly, now.  I am saving to see her in Norway.   I miss her very much, and have come to appreciate how she encouraged me.  We’re lucky in life to meet even one person like Katie…

Jaevel and Hurpe

“Jaevel – LOOK – I can fly!”