I’ve slacked on this to-do list thing for the past few monthsm, but, now that the madness of the holidays and the new year are behind me, I’d like to pick it back up again. February is a short month, and we’ve already made quite a dent into to it, so I’m only going to set up six goals for myself this month, instead of the usual ten.
February To Do
- Go see a movie.
- Do nothing to celebrate Valentine’s Day.
- Cross something off my 101 in 1001 list.
- File my taxes.
- Run 3 times each week.
- Bake something.
So. It snowed again. A lot. And this time we didn’t get to sit at home, all cozy in our living room watching episodes of Friends and How I Met Your Mother while snuggling the dog. No. This time we had to work.
Friday morning we left home at the buttcrack of dawn. We drove an hour North, to Fredericksburg and attempted to figure out the plan. See, when shit gets bad, and especially when shit gets bad in terms of weather, the National Guard gets going to places that might be impacted. Andrew and I are both journalist for the Virginia National Guard. Weather reports were calling for snow accumulation of up to 30 inches in the Northern parts of my usually-not-very-snowy-at-all-state, so, we went North.
By the time we got to Fredericksburg, at about 7 AM, the National Guard had only been tasked with one mission. Since we didn’t know when or if other missions would come down, Andrew and I decided to attach ourselves to that mission and figured we would move on to bigger and better things if that mission turned out to be a dud.
By mid-morning Friday we were with a group of five National Guard Soldiers at a fire station just north of Fredericksburg. And we were excited. Because, as I mentioned, we were at a fire station! We got all up close and personal with the fire trucks (swoon!) and spent hours upon hours hanging out with firefighters, first responders and medical staff (also, swoon!).
The snow started around mid-afternoon on Friday. But it wasn’t sticking. At all. In fact, it started to stick in the grass and then, just like that, it all melted. I was pissed. I was grumpy. I was paying $35 a day for my dog to be boarded and there was no fucking snow. My patience was limited, but I figured the snow would speed up eventually and start sticking and then we’d be busy like bumblebees.
Friday night we went to sleep on cots in the upstairs area of the firehouse. And no, there wasn’t a pole to slide down should we be needed. I was a little depressed about that one as well.
Sleeping at a fire station is an interesting thing. It’s fitful, to say the least. All night there were calls and various noises that made getting a good night’s sleep a little difficult. Plus, there was the whole sleeping on a cot thing. The good part though, is that the novelty of hearing sirens and radio chatter hadn’t evaporated yet and I still managed to get more excited than irritated each time I was woken up by chatter over the PA system.
Saturday morning we were antsy. There was a lot of snow outside, but we still hadn’t been utilized. We were ready to go. We wanted to help.
And then, just like that, at about 10 AM, they needed us. And we went. We scrambled our way out the door, excited and ramped up and ready to save the world. But then they didn’t need us anymore. So we went back to the station.
It went like that a few more times – getting called out only to discover they didn’t need us anymore. It was frustrating, but still, we were helping. We were getting faster in our response time. We were having fun.
Later in the day on Saturday we were actually able to help. Emergency vehicles were getting stuck in the snow everywhere and, with our humvees, we were able to help pull some out. It was cold and fun and I could tell the guys, the Soldiers who had been waiting all day for some action, were excited with the prospect of finally being able to help.
At one point I stepped off the road. The snow was above my knee. And, at the point, it was still snowing.
Saturday night Andrew and I sat down to process the footage we’d gotten. Internet access was shaking, but the firefighters let us use their system to post photos. Since it was dark, we decided to stop going out on runs since my camera hates the night-time and the darkness. We played a game called hand and foot with some firefighters and called it a night. We didn’t know what the next day would hold for us and wanted to be as rested as possible.
The Soldiers got called out on four runs over night and got very little sleep. They helped a pregnant women. And a child. And an elderly gentlemen. They loved it. They were excited. They were helping – really, really helping. I’m sad I didn’t go with them. I feel like I missed out on some really great stuff.
Sunday morning we decided to break contact. We had enough footage and our boss said we could go home.
It was bittersweet to leave the fire house. We’d spent nearly 48 hours there with the Soldiers and the firefighters and I was left with the realization of how cool my job is. I get paid to spend the night at fire stations and go on emergency calls with my fellow Soldiers. I get to meet some of the greatest, most self-sacrificing guys in the state. I’ve flown on helicopters with the doors wide open and the world below me. It just doesn’t get any better than that.
So, I live in Virginia. Richmond, Virginia. Which, as far as I’m concerned, counts as the South. We don’t usually get much snow. I can easily remember whole winters sliding by with mere. But this year…this year is different. We had a great big snow dump in December, just before Christmas, and I figured that would be it in terms of a BIG SNOW DUMP for the winter. I enjoyed it while I could. Andrew made a snow man. We went for a walk in the snow. We threw snowballs at the dog. It was lovely. I was a little sad to see it go.
Then, this past Saturday, it snowed again. A lot. I thought we’d get a few inches – nothing too extreme. And then we got at least 10 inches dumped on us and I’m a little shocked. Happy, mostly, because I love snow and because my classes were cancelled last night. But still, it’s all a little weird.
Weirder still, it’s supposed to dump freezing rain on us today and then there is even more snow heading toward us for this weekend and I’ve got to say I’m getting a little sick of it. I mean, really. I love Virginia because it doesn’t get that much snow, because we’re plagued by streets lined with piles of brown, yucky snow all year-round.
Still though, we decided to enjoy the snow. The dog, being of the HuskyMutt persuasion, was thrilled.
She played and romped in the snow. Stared at the sky, searching for squirrels, chomped on a few snow balls, and, when she was all worn out, came inside for snuggle time.
Once we mustered up the energy to shovel our walkway and the sidewalk in front of our house (after two people came to the door offering to do it for us for some money), we went for walk. Dog loved it and honed her ability to drag Andrew down the street while he slides on the icy roads. How they both made it home in one piece is beyond me.
After the walk, I embraced my inner child.
I made an itty bitty snow man, and then, because I haven’t done it in years an years and years and years, I made a snow angel.
The End!
- A rock star with good hair, cute boots, and the ability to rock harder than you.
- 5′7″
- A super secret undercover spy.
- Able to take a nap every single day.
- The owner of a farm where people can come and play with happy, soft, kissy puppies all day in big fields filled with flowers and sunshine.
- Well-traveled.
- Someone who has clearly identified my own personal style.
- A fabulous hostess who makes entertaining look effortless, even while wearing 4 inch stilettos and an apron.
- Comfortable.
–
What do you wanna be when you grow up?
Classes have finally started back up again. This is the second semester I’ve been back in college since my deployment-induced hiatus. I aced my class last semester and have upped my course load from three credit hours last semester to seven credit hours this semester. It seems that starting small was the way to go, as I might have lost my mind had I started off with more than one class after not having been in a classroom in three years. It takes getting used to, this whole being a college student again thing.
Going back to college has brought out some bits of myself I didn’t expect to see. It’s weird, being 25 and going to a 100-level Anthropology class and realizing most of the students in there were in high school just last year and aren’t anywhere near old enough to drink. And then here I am, a grown up, or at least a grown up compared to them. I’ve got a house and a husband and a dog and a job. They’ve got….a dorm room? A meal plan?
–
The girl sitting next to me in my Monday night class kept yawning and saying she was so tired. She mumbled about never having had a night class before and how she’s usually home on the couch by 7 PM. She told me she’d had a long day of classes. I smiled politely because that’s just what you do in situations like that, but I really, really wanted to tell her that I’d been up since 6 AM. That I’d spent the whole day at work, had rushed home, changed my clothes, and come to class. But I didn’t. Because I didn’t want to sound like an old lady.
–
I had to get a backpack for this semester. I didn’t need one last semester because I only had one class and one (kind of small) book so I just threw everything in my purse and went. But this semester, with the heavier course load and more (stupidly expensive) books, I realized I was going to need a backpack.
Who knew purchasing a backpack would freak me out as much as it did? I got all worked up about finding a backpack that didn’t immediately label me as OLD or an IMPOSTER. It should have been a simple decision, really, but I have such anxiety about fitting in for some reason. It’s ridiculous because this isn’t me. I don’t give a flying rat’s ass what people think. Sure, in high school I was all sorts of uncomfortable and insecure, but my twenties have given way to a more comfortable-in-my-own-skin me (usually). I’ve become very get the hell out of my way if you don’t like me these days.
–
As I was paying for parking at the university parking garage, the attendant asked if I was staff. I bit my lip, shook my head and said no, I’m a student.
And then I died a little inside.
–
In order to make myself feel better about the whole thing, and to convince myself I don’t really care what the big little college students think, I decided that my anxiety stems not from my desire to fit in, but from my desire to be a secret spy. I’m not stressed because they’re all going to laugh at me and call me an old lady (which yes, I know I’m not, but compared to them I’m a FOSSIL), I’m stressed because how can I become America’s greatest super spy if I can’t even go undercover at college?
And then, I realized my ridiculousness knows no end and that I might be even more crazy than originally suspected.
But at least I’ve got a cool backpack.
