Mandatory Fun

Today is a pre-deployment fair at J's work. We {{the girls and I}} aren't going. But J has to. For us Mandatory fun usually means I'm getting dragged along so J doesn't have to go by himself or at all {{Mandatory fun: n. Usually something that makes you want to stab yourself in the eye. Never really fun, but its mandatory you have to be there}}. Today I got out of it. Last week I wasn't so lucky. Last Monday was the first Pre-deployment briefing {{I'm sure there will be five more covering the exact same information in case you weren't close enough to hanging yourself the first time around.}} As these things go, it was also mandatory. Either the soldier or his spouse/significant other needed to be present. Since J is not a fan, the responsibility was mine {{yaaaay.}}

It is customary for these things to be held in the post movie theater. A ridiculously large space, so the attendees can fill the first two rows, for a ridiculously long PowerPoint presentation. It brought back lots if memories of AIT. Sitting in a hot theater with smelly Privates learning about how to talk in the third person {{don't hate, some of those people were REALLY funky! and not hot 70's funky either!!}}.

I managed to get everything I needed from the whole ordeal in the first ten minutes. They discussed the way things happen if there is a non-life-threatening injury, a serious injury and a casualty. {{They used words like "casualty" and "expired" when they were talking about death. Probably to keep people like me from bursting into tears and running from the room.}} This part was helpful. As a Process-Girl its nice to know what the process would be if... And except for the one creepy part where the volunteer stood up and said that if something happened, she would know the names & ages of my children, my animals, and the layout of my house before the informing posse even left {{creepy!}}. Then she said she would take care of paying all of our bills, grocery shopping and anything else that wouldn't get our attention in the first few days {{I get it. I'm sure that's comforting for some people. But I've already instructed people to make sure those people don't come in to my house if... For some reason I find that such an invasion of privacy.}}

The remaining two hours and twenty minutes of the "brief" was just the gravy on an *awesome* sandwich. I am a snooty wife about these things. I hate them. I don't participate in the FRG because the only experiences I have had with the FRG have been... not good. Too many bored women with no life, so they feel the need to try and be all up in yours. But I do think it is important to at least know who your FRG is in case you need them for something. So off I go to this ridiculous "briefing". I knew I was in trouble when we walked in and there was a power point presentation up. {{They don't call it death by power point for nothing.}} I think my eye was twitching and I was drooling by the half time break. Then we got a nice forty five minute presentation on how to talk to the media. {{Those damn paparazzi just refuse to leave me alone!}} By the time the last speaker got up, I was trying to decide which rafter I was going to hang myself off of. When she finished I was like , "Ok, great now the FRG will introduce herself." Nope. She wasn't even there. {{Commence with the self eye stabbing.}} So I politely declined my husbands invite to today's "fair".

I've had my share of mandatory fun for the month, thank you.