T minus one day

The day before commissioning was spent on base attending activities. It started with spouses orientation at 8 am. Or 8:15 if you're me. I walk in late to the meeting as the commander in a flight suit is saying, "He will deploy. He will spend a year away. He will miss Christmases and birthdays and births. What he does is dangerous. I've buried 14 of my buddies..."

Um, wow. Apparently I missed the ice breaker. I sure hope the first 15 minutes were friendlier and fuzzier. We sat in front of a panel of high ranking officer's wives and asked them questions. It turned out to be a much more sobering experience than I had envisioned. One of the ladies was asked what the hardest part of it was and her answer was that there is a bag packed in their closet that he could grab and leave at any time, should there arise a need. She said she hates seeing that bag in their closet. I can certainly understand that. And at the same time that is part of what makes us so proud to be their wives.

That night we attended what the Air Force calls a "Dining Out". I was a bit frazzled because I had no time to get ready and was feeling like a mess. I lost the strap to my shoe in the hotel and did my makeup on the way in the car. At first I thought it was just an overpriced fancy dinner. And it was that. But it turns out there is a whole history, script and program to it and rules that one must follow. No sitting before the president. No clapping (you must bang spoons on the table). No murdering the queens english. You must follow proper toasting etiquette. And on and on and on. If anyone violates a rule they can be called up to the grog. The grog is a toilet bowl full of nasty rubbish. You approach the grog, FILL a cup, and drink the whole thing without removing the cup from your lips. Then you dump the cup over your head to show that it is empty. If you remove the cup, leave drops, don't turn or salute properly, you must keep doing it until you get it right. In order to call somebody out you must use a clever rhyme. There is a President and Vice President of the mess and they run the program together. Braden was selected to be the Vice, which got us stellar seats. We were at the back of the room on an elevated platform so we could see everybody. As the Vice, Braden had to be the first one to the grog to ensure that it was proper punishment for violations of the mess. He is the only one I think who drank out of the non-alcholic grog bowl.

They had a ceremony for POW's and MIA's as there is a table set for them in the front of the room. It was very moving. Braden whispered to me that he couldn't take this part and I could see him trying not to pay attention as he had to talk afterward. But alas, it didn't work. He stood to propose a toast to the comrades killed or missing in action and he couldn't talk. The whole room was standing silently and staring at us, waiting for him to be able to finish. I told him later I thought it was sweet. He said it's sweet in sacrament meeting, not in front of hundreds of military men. Lucky for me I cut the moment short when my bracelets got caught on my dress at exactly the nipple range. I had a moment to take in the situation as Braden was composing himself and hundreds of eyeballs were staring at me. The trouble was, my glass was raised waiting to toast and that is when the snag occurred. I couldn't move my hand. When it came time to drink I did this akward little head to my chest drink so as to avoid vigorous chest yanks. Way to kill the moment Julie. Oh, and look like an idiot in front of a jillion fancy military people. Really, I should be left at home in sweats on the couch.

It was a very long night- 5 hours I think. Cocktail hours and intermissions and a guest speaker. Not something I want to do often, but a cool experience nonetheless.

Mr. Vice did a fantastic job, even making a crack on the commanding officer who never did work her way up to a smile. Yikes. And might I say, what a hottie. Way to make a $400 dollar tux look like a million bucks, honey.






The dress my friend Stephanie made for me, sans pattern. I love it. If you show up to my house and I'm wearing it while making dinner don't be surprised. Well, be surprised that I'm making dinner...



What we found in our room at the end of the night.