Highlight: With the cadets strolling around the DC monuments in Dress Gray, our group was something of an attraction itself. Many random people asked for pictures with the guys. At the end of the afternoon Ziga and I took a little detour off on our own, walking through the park, casually holding hands, and threading ourselves through the crowd. We passed a tour group of black female gospel singers exhibiting the usual "cadet-curiosity." As I passed one of the last women she said to me "Girl you KNOW he looks good in that uniform!" Everyone around us laughed out loud. My only reply was a hearty "Damn straight!" and I think even Z, for that two seconds, didn't completely hate being in uniform.
Yeah, he looks good!
Eye-Opener: Major Reyno Arredondo is one of the most genuinely friendly, generous, laid-back officers I've met at West Point. On Saturday morning, however, when the boys turned up over an hour late for formation (due to what? hangovers? confusion with directions? laziness?) I saw a side of Reyno that I hadn't expected. Ziga referred to it as an "ass-chewing." Which in my opinion they TOTALLY deserved. I thought I had gotten my ass chewed a few times in college, when I was careless with assignments or other duties. But now I realize that was more like gentle scolding. Sometimes I forget West Point isn't just "harder college," it's Army college. So now I feel priviledged to add "West Point ass-chewing" to my list of experiences.
L-R: Ziga, Marisa, Mary, Reyno. I was soooooooo glad Mary was there with me for most of the trip. Like a blend between a girlfriend and an older sister, she was my haven, my comfort, my company, my escape from boy-land. When I got home on Sunday night I missed her!
Highlight:When we arrived at the Ball, held at the Naval Academy in Annapolis, the first thing we did was locate the VIP area on the mezzanine level and make our way up to the wine and food. When I approached the stairs a midshipman stepped out of nowhere, offered me his arm, said "Ma'am I'll be your escort for this evening" and proceeded to guide me up the stairs to the receiving line. I was in Princess Heaven. I've never heard of staircase escorts for women before, but boy does it make you feel like a lady!
This is how the ballroom looked with the lights up. You can see the VIP mezzanine level on the sides and at the far end, two stories up. Also note the boat hanging under the American flag - yup, it was Navy.
This is how the ballroom looked once the party got going - lights dim, music loud, wine flowing, a thousand foreign girls in lovely dresses and a thousand guys in uniform chasing after them. We watched it all from the upper level, removed and relaxed like the Greek gods watching Achilles and Hercules play out their stories. We did go down to dance a few times, but usually returned pretty quickly to our loft above.
After all the "stress about the dress" I think this was actually a perfect choice. Didn't have to buy anything new, looked fancy, felt comfy. I'm not a huge fan of how it pouches in the stomach and makes me look sway-backed, but you can't have everything.
Highlight: Ziga says to me "Shall we go for a walk?" I take his arm and we move away from the VIP crowd along the length of the mezzanine. We didn't say much, we just felt good, peaceful but also electric. We watched the party below and kept our quiet company. As we passed one of the many flower arrangements he plucked out a flower and handed it to me. It felt so good just to be alive at a party, alone with him in a crowd.
Walking back from our little "vacation" to the other side of the mezzanine we encountered some plebes who took our picture.
Highlight: All the way on the other side of the mez, direcly opposite from the "party spot" were a few lone tables cozily tucked in an alcove bordering a massive window, which that night was streaming with heavy rain. Z and I sat down and chatted for awhile, finished our drinks. Eventually he picked up my digital camera and started taking pictures of me. At first we went through the standard "sit and smile" poses, then I started to get self-conscious and embarrassed but he kept clicking and we got sillier and happier and then calmed down and became serious again. Maybe it was just the wine, but it felt like we were suspended in time, a living picture of ourselves. A fairy-tale feeling for grown-ups: less art and more subtlety.
Just a few of the many.
The place was beautifully decorated with lights and flowers. Makes me wonder where all the flowers are at the West Point hops - doesn't the Army have a sense of style too?
Best Part: Guess who curled my hair? Yup, this WONDERFUL man right here in the Full Dress West Point uniform is quite skilled with the curling iron!
I love him so much.
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