No One Else Would Have The Birthday Balls to Write This

Lacey is a master of evasion. If she doesn’t want to do something or doesn’t find it important, it’s best to move on. I have asked her to take a watch for repair for the last three weeks. Watch still broke. I’m positive that she had something to do with a misplaced leather jacket that she openly hated, but she will not confess and answers questions with questions that confuse me. We go to bed with two pillows each. She wakes up with three under her head and hugging the other. She states that it is accidental, but it happens quite frequently. Her abilities to evade questions, change the subject, and admit nothing make me believe that she’s secretly a CIA operative sent to spy on me.

Her powers of evasion seem to reach super hero levels around the 10th of November. I believe the axis of the earth in relation to the sun, creates a magnetic pull that sucks questions concerning the Marine Corps Birthday Ball from the air in front of your mouth and deposits them in the trash can. Lacey has managed to go 0 for 6. And that is amazing. Every year, she has weaseled out of it. One year she was very pregnant, but the other five have been a series of smoke and mirrors that would make David Copperfield jealous.

Not that I’m mad. I too, dislike the Marine Corps Ball. Notice I said the ball, not the birthday itself. Some motivated doucher will read that, show up at my door with a bottle of chloroform and I’ll wake up with “Semper Fi Mutha@$&/%#” tattooed on my face. I love the Marine Corps Birthday. A day that every Marine, worldwide will pause and reflect on those who came before us and appreciate their sacrifice. How can you not like that?

No, my problem is with the ball itself. A bunch of people that you see all day everyday, dressed uncomfortably, pretending to have a good time. And if it was just a gathering of the most uncoordinated dancers in the world (the Marine Corps is the whitest service by percentage), I could probably let it go. But it’s more.


This will touch in future bullets, so I will mention it first.
-Tickets average 50 bucks a piece. (100)
-Uniforms almost always have to be altered (30)
-Medals mounted (100)
-Hotel-More on that below (80)
-Gown (200)
-Hair (50)
-Nails (20)
-Gas, to and from (50)

Grand Total=630 bucks. Obviously, cuts can be made, but you get the point. Ball is ridiculously overpriced.


Despite having several venues close by, the powers that be always choose a location that requires a significant amount of driving. I could go outside, grab a handful of rocks, throw them in any direction, and hit 10 casinos. The ball I’m not attending this year, is taking place four hours away at a, wait for it, casino. This presents two problems. First, the cost of gas for an eight hour round tripper. Second, the need for a hotel room. Again, dollars piling up.

Time of Year

I get it. We can’t change the date they decided to start getting the drunkest people they could find to start signing up, but seriously, right before Christmas? See the above costs? This is seriously bad timing. Leadership douches will tell you that you need to budget for the ball. My response: If I have to budget for a party, things have gotten out of hand. And there are most likely less presents under the tree because of it.

Today, I will join with members of my unit to celebrate our heritage. Lacey again has used her Jedi mind trick to avoid accompanying me. Her powers of evasion are far too great to succumb to an overpriced night out. She will most likely spend the evening filling out reports and sending them to Langley. A CIA operative’s work is never done and she almost has enough information on me to convict.



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