valentine's day How I go from semiformal to punk rock in 1 night...

On Saturday the Jetplanes attended their 1st Warrior Banquet which was also our 1st 'dining out' experience together. (I couldn't attend his OTS graduation due to being in a wedding.)

It was very interesting and actually quite a bit of fun. At our base there are 4 squadrons, 2 operational and 2 training, each is designated by a number, mascot/name, and color. We are the Eagles and our color is blue, therefore the military attendees where a blue bow tie and cumber bun with their mess dress and the spouses are suppose to wear something blue as well - dress, purse, wrap, shoes, etc. etc. The other squadron colors are yellow, red, and hunter green....yeah we had the best option, I think.

Here's our spot in the back of the room, which the boys selected. Away from the important people. All good since we were close to the back bar, but bad since we were one of the last tables to eat...

The banquet is to honor those warriors with us in that room, across the ocean fighting, and those we've lost. This is my 1st experience being part of something like this, sure I've attended Mr. Jetplane's selections, pinnings, etc., but this is the 1st time we've been with hundreds of other men and women that do what Mr. is training to do. I was moved when they toasted to their fellow comrades from our base that are no longer with us, toasted to the heroic acts of some people in that room, and toasted to an instructor in our squadron who is ridiculously funny (Mr's man funny crush) who has more hours in this jet then ANYONE in the USAF. Who knew this joker who makes crude comments at my CRUD practices is actually this awesome, amazing aviator...

(Here are the Jetplanes at the end of the dinner)

The drinks were decent, the food....umm...well its banquet food, and the comradery was great. We had a speaker, a General in the Air Force who made fun of the fighter community being arrogant jerks...which if you want a good laugh at one of these things...that's always the way to go, that's for sure.

There was all the rules of Mess that had to be followed..no clapping allowed must hit table with spoon, you can't leave to go to the bathroom until it is granted by the President of the Mess, etc. etc.


Then there is this thing called the "Grog Bowl" which is a bowl (sometimes Toilet Bowl) where each squadron donates booze and 'other' substances to it. The mixture is stirred and people are toasted and asked to drink from it. Its gross and funny all at the same time. Commander's wives were not spared and all of them in attendance (past and present) drank from the bowl. I would have thrown up, especially since I knew that our squadron donated Everclear and Ranch Dressing....yeah disgusting.

Here I am with some of the other wives from our training squadron, all our husbands are in class together. The blue fans were on the tables, our tables were decorated blue, plus fans were made of feathers...and we're Eagles...get it?!?

The dinner ended and low and below my husband is alittle intoxicated....drinking Johnny Walker Black I think can do that to a person, right? So I was the designated driver, driving us and another couple to an after party at one of the guy's in his class's house. We all got in the car, and as I was closing the door to the driver's seat. I realized that I couldn't really reach my door very well with my dress on. It wasn't tight, but I seemed to be sitting on it in an odd way. I stretched out and slammed the door shut. Then I felt a rush of coldness down my back. Well the top portion of my dress is open so I thought that might be it. But then that rush of coldness went down all the way to my rearend. I swore I could feel the satin lining of my coat on my back...no that certainly couldn't be it...I then slid my hand under my coat and what did I find... Oh just the entire zipper of my desk busted from my bra strap down past my butt....Oh yeah...

So we are in route to the after party and I'm looking for a drug store to go buy safety pins, and my drunk passengers are sure they can fix my dress. (I find out that our CVSs and Walgreens aren't 24 hrs...damn them) Mr. Jetplane even calmly responses... "Don't worry babe...I fix my backpack all the time when the zipper does that..." Ummmm...Jackass!! My dress isn't your backpack!

So needless to say we got the party and while Mr Jetplane attempted to fix my dress, another wife who happens to live in the subdivision, annoyed with her drunk husband, and wants to get out of her shoes/dress, offers to take me to her house and we can fix my dress.

Low and below, homegirl had like 100+ safety pins. At my house, you're lucky to find 1 when you need it...

So this is house my dress looked at the after party....

Nice huh? I just told everyone, I was going for that Punk Rock look... I really didn't care if you saw my bar strap...I was concerned about the rest of my back and my underwear.

Yeah it was quite a night...

FYI - Everyone LOVED my shoes...even the guys!