Misadventures of the Village Idiot #76

Birthday weekend celebration!!!!  What an awesome weekend.

Friday
Okay, Friday wasn’t so awesome but it wasn’t that bad either.  I drilled Friday and Saturday instead of Saturday and Sunday because I had requested a long time ago to take the weekend off.  I had originally planned to be gone the entire weekend but I did not feel like making up both days.

Friday I went into the armoury and helped out with drill preparations.  It actually wasn’t the worst thing ever.  There were a few other soldiers there making up drill and it’s not like the work is mind-numbing or physically taxing.  I even got to go a little bit early.  That’s always a plus.

I planned to go to the movies that night but somehow things just did not go that way.  I ended up sleeping my life away.

Saturday
This was an actual drill day and kind of a day from hell, but a good kind of hell, if there is such a thing.  I don’t know.  The day did not start off well because I received some interesting news.  At the time I received the news I was highly upset but after I had time to sit down let things marinate I decided that it is not bad news at all.  I am just going to take advantage of the opportunity and move on with my life.  I choose not to detail it here because there are other people involved.

Because A was out of the office, I worked in her place.  What a rough job.  I am so glad I did not allow the recruiter to talk me into being a supply person.  He was trying to get me to be supply, an MP or a cook.  Hell no to all three.  Supply is a serious job.  There is so much to know, and everyone did not understand that I was just down there helping out.  I am not a supply expert.  I don’t know how to order things.  I don’t know how things go.  I don’t know any of that.  Everyone just kept coming down harassing me. Now I see why A tells everyone to GTFO.  It’s a headache.  But when I said it was kind of like a hell that is a good kind of hell, I mean because I was busy and it helped the day to go by very quickly.  One minute it was 815 and the next minute it was 345 and time to lock everything up.

There were several people promoted this weekend.  There were the obvious ones, of course.  Then there was one and I was like… hmm…. what was that about?  But what do I know?  Obviously, nothing.  It wasn’t my turn.  I am beginning to feel like it will never be my turn.  The person in front of me was promoted but then they stopped.  I just seem to have the worst luck.  I am always in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I am not one of those people that ends up doing something lucky because they happen to be in the right spot.  That’s just not me.  And now this.  I’m trying not to get frustrated.  I guess my ship will come in some day.

After drill I hung out with Pops for a little while and then I hit the hay early because I had a race in the morning.

Sunday
Birthday!!!  Yippeee!!!  In honour of my 32nd birthday I decided to run the Maryland Half Marathon for the University of Maryland Cancer Center.  It’s my first half and I don’t know what I was thinking.  They say if you can run this many miles than you can run a half and that’s what I was going off.  I woke up Sunday morning stretched and had a cookie, then I drove out to Maple Lawn some new community that I had never heard of.

The weather was perfect for a run.  Cloudy, breezy and cool.  There was a bit of mugginess but it wasn’t overwhelming.  I started to get nervous.  That is a lot of miles to be running:  13.1.  Why do they have to add that .1 like that?  So here’s my race synopsis.

Mile 1:
Kinda pumped because they got the music on blast.  There are 2000 runners out here.  Everyone is full of energy and excitement.  I got this!  But I have to pee.  That’s too bad because it’s gonna be at least two more hours before there’s another toilet.  Nice.

Mile 2:
Conquered the first hill and it was kind of a doozy.  Breathing is all wrong, feel like I’m flopping me feet too hard.  I don’t know if I can do this.  This is only mile 2 and I feel like this?  Maybe I should just quit.

Mile 3:
More hills.  Then I remember what the guy said:  “This is not a flat course because the battle for cancer is not a flat course.”  I am not trying to disrespect cancer victims and survivors, but screw you, guy.  Screw you.

Mile 4:
You run 4 miles all the time.  Why are you acting like you are doing something brand new?  There is a woman in a pink shirt that keeps walking/running past me.  I want to get away from her.

Mile 5:
Finally started to get comfortable.  Since I felt like I did not hydrate well enough in the day preceding, I stopped at every water station.  Pink Shirt Lady has racewalked/ran her way right on past me.

Mile 6:
I need new bras.

Mile 7:
Okay, 8 miles is the furthest I’ve ever run this year, so when I get to 8 I’ll stop running and walk the rest of the way. I also drank gatorade because I was worried about electrolytes.  I actually don’t know when I should really be concerned but I was concerned anyway so I accepted the gatorade.  It was orange flavoured.  Gross.  So now I have nasty orange flavour taste in my mouth for another mile.

Mile 8:
Broads from Fleet Feet in Baltimore are starting to get on my nerves.  First of all, they are talking.  Who can talk?  Obviously they can because they are doing that walk/run thing.  One woman has a watch that is similar to mine and every time it beeped I kept looking at my watch.

Mile 9:
The Fleet Feet bitches are still next to me and they are accompanied by a guy who is obviously in great shape.  He has sprinted up to the finish line and back again, and then all the way back down to mile 7 where another friend of theirs is.  He is also doing jumping jacks at the water stations.  Get the fuck away from me!

Mile 10:
The bottom of my feet hurt like I’ve been shopping for hours, except when I get to the finish line there aren’t gads of new clothes waiting for me.

Mile 11:
These goddamn hills.  My God!  I am finally able to get rid of the Fleet Street women.  They’re way behind me now.  I want to stop running but I don’t know how.

Mile 12:
We’re in this brand new neighbourhood in Maple Lawn.  Nice houses.  That’s fucking great.  Is it over yet?  How come the last mile is the longest?  I think I have a blister.  I’m tired of my iPod.  I’m tired of everything.  I’m hungry.

Mile 13:
I’m glad they thoughtfully put a 13th mile sign, like I can’t see the finish line is around the corner.  They just want to let you know they didn’t forget about that .1.  Seriously, that was the longest tenth of a mile ever.  Really?  I started to burn it out. I ran like an axe murderer was chasing me.  I ran like I was late for dinner.  I ran like Jesus was about to start the Rapture.  I ran like… Forrest fuckin’ Gump, okay.  Like a fool.  I crossed the finish line like I was the champion, like I was the number one winner.

When I was finally able to stop running my feet were not physically moving but my body was still running.  It was an odd sensation.  I had muscles sore and throbbing in places I didn’t even know there were muscles.  It was insane.  Everything hurt.  Even my teeth.  My fingers.  The ends of my toenails.  Very bizarre.

Then a man comes up to me and says, “Did you get a medal?”

Why would I get a medal?  The clock said 2:34:25.  Yes, I had been running for two and a half hours.  They don’t usually give medals to people who place 743rd.  Then he said, “Everybody who finishes gets a medal.”

Oh!  D’uh!  He put the medal on me and I truly felt like a winner.  My body felt like it had gone 12 rounds with Pacquiao but that’s another story.

I am so stiff and sore that I can hardly make it back to the car.  I was parked about 3 minutes from the finish line.  It took me about 15 minutes to get there.  I was afraid to sit down in the car because I felt that I would stiffen up and be stuck in the sitting position for the rest of my life.

This was not the case however.  I got home, showered and immediately got on the foam roller.  This helped recovery but I’m still pretty beat up.

Pops and I went to Founding Farmers for brunch and then I took him back to the Maple Lawn neighbourhood because I thought he might like the houses.  By 5PM I was completely beat but all my friends and family were calling me to wish me happy birthday.  I thought it was awesome.  Even people from whom I did not expect a call managed to get in touch with me.  I just think it’s funny…. but you know what, I don’t feel like turning this into something negative.

Right as I was dozing, someone called me with a job offer.  They want to pay me ……………………………………….. Yeah.

It’s a lot of fucking money but I just don’t know.  You know me and money.  I’m a saver, but I’m not greedy and I don’t need a headache just for an extra dollar.  The job sounds intense and I have been saying to myself that I need to get out of this line of work.  I cannot allow myself to be tantalised away from what I truly want to do.  And that is be a vagabond.  It’s not for everyone but it works for me.

At any rate, I told them I’d think about it.  I’m going to Hawaii and I don’t plan on bringing any stress with me.  I’ll call them when I return.  If the job is still there, we’ll see.  If not, then oh well.  You know how I feel about things like that.

So today is Monday.  I woke up still feeling all wonked out but not as a bad as yesterday.  I’m going to take the next few days off running but soon I will get back on it.  The Big One is October and I plan on having a better physical race experience.  I also want to do another half before then.  I have discovered that I think my favourite distance will be the 10 miler.

Thank you everyone for the wonderful birthday wishes.  My birthday month spectacular has been awesome so far.  Next weekend I will be in Hawaii and the weekend after that I will go to King’s Dominion to put a cap on all this awesomeness.

Another Weekend in the Trenches #10

Drill weekend went by kinda fast, but then kinda not.  It was weird, in a way.  I was disappointed to have drill in the first place because as usual, there is always something exciting going on during the weekend I have drill.  There are four or five weekends in a month, and three of them I will be sitting at home, doing nothing and then suddenly it’s drill weekend and everybody is having a party.  There was a food and wine festival in DC that I wanted to go to but no…. I had drill.  Then my dad wanted me to go to Atlanta with him for my uncle’s birthday, but no…. I had drill.

Saturday I started work in my new position, where I am basically a gofer girl.  It sounds like the perfect thing for me to complain about but actually, I am glad of it for several reasons.  One, it gives me something to do other than watching the clock.  Yes, I’d rather be goofing off with everyone else but goofing off does not make the time go by faster.  Most of the morning I was in the office learning how to work some of the systems that will become my responsibility in future.  Then I was running out passing messages between sergeants and whatnot.  Like a toddler, I was kept occupied and before too long it was time for lunch.  Afterward, we had the usual round of briefings and whatnot, but then the day started to drag.  I was annoyed to find that it was almost 6PM before they let us go home.  Yeah, yeah, I know that mantra about “training to standard and not to time,” but the last hour we weren’t doing anything.  We were given no instructions, so therefore, we are not training… and we should go home.

That threw off my evening plans a little bit.  I had told Debonair to come over after 6PM.  He texted me at 545 to say he was around the corner.  Too bad I was still at the armoury.  Luckily, I do not live very far away.  He came over to share with me this dangerous double chocolate super fudge cake he brought for Valentine’s Day.  We ended up at the buffet around the corner and then we destroyed that cake.  It was a sad state of being.  We hung out until after 1AM, which is such a no go for me.  I just do not like to be tired when I am working and the next morning when it was time to get up I wanted to cry.

Sunday was more learning about the systems and other things.  Sitting in the office gave me an interesting picture of what goes on behind the scenes.  It’s a good thing and a bad thing.  I am truly nosy as hell but there are some things I just don’t want to know because they will only depress me.  That’s all I’m going to say about that.  I will say that I’m glad I was able to make the move because there were certain announcements made that had me cringing.  Leadership is changing in the unit.  Like everything, some of it is good and some of it is bad.  The army is really all about coping with things.  It’s not an amusement park and if you’re looking for the perfect life than the army is not for you.  When things I don’t like come down, I just learn how to adjust so that I am not stressed out.  Like I told someone who asked, I’m just making sure that I am set up for success and if making a move is the only thing to get my mind right, then that is what I need to do.  Some of the changes that came down really disappointed me but there’s nothing I can do about it but deal with it and move on.

The rest of the day went by in a bit of a blur.  I had to work on those usual training classes we do every year and then we sat in the computer room, goofing like old times.  Then it was time to leave.  I was glad because I was truly dragging by the end.  The sad part was that I couldn’t immediately go home because I had to get my dad from the airport.

On another note, I ended up not re-enlisting, not because I don’t want to.  I do.  I’ve already made that decision.  It was just for the length of time that I was quibbling over.  I am reclassing to another MOS and because of that I have to have a certain amount of time left over after I get out of school.  But then there is no guarantee that I will go to the school in the first place, so I’d be re-enlisting for a lengthy period of time and not really getting anything for it.  I was enrolled in the school but I need to wait for state approval.  Once I get state approval, then I should re-enlist.  If I don’t hear anything from the state by May, then I will only re-enlist one year at a time.  This was some solid advice and I took it.  Yes, I love the army but I am not about to do this shit for God and country.  That’s a big no.

I told another soldier that this is really a good time for us because so many of the older enlisted are rolling out.  If we’re going to make some moves, the time is now.  Strike while the iron is hot, as they say.  Also it is looking good for a promotion maybe by the end of this year.  There are only three ahead of me and one of them is out of the running for the time being.  That means I only have to kidnap the other two.

I never lied about my ambition, so don’t like it’s all new to you.

At any rate, I think it was a pretty good weekend.  Very low-stress.  No drama.  And that is the way I like it.  We’ll see what happens next month when we get to the fuck around with that damn tent again.  I wonder what would happen if I just set fire to the whole damn thing?  Maybe somebody will put me in for an award.  Okay, maybe not, but I can dream.

Another Weekend in the Trenches #9

It was a very easy weekend, no stress, no drama, nothing to make me wish I wasn’t in the army.  Except for the fact that an already difficult decision has become even more difficult, I don’t really have a lot to complain about.  That’s a first.

Saturday, we hung around the armoury to finish up some required briefings.  We had the annual suicide prevention thing.  I know it’s required and the army really thinks it’s doing something by forcing us to sit and watch the same dry powerpoint presentation year after year, but like I said to someone nothing really changes.  The army still has a high suicide rate.  Why is that?  Because nothing ever changes.  The army can go around saying, “Hey, look, we’re doing everything we can,” but the culture of the army is still a culture of “suck it up.”  It’s like an abusive spouse who goes to the anger management meetings and then comes home to beat up his wife.

You can tell that nobody cares because of how we make jokes when we watch SPC Norton go through the same dramatic crap with his girlfriend back home who ends up pregnant with another man’s baby and then wipes out his bank account.  Everybody thinks it’s hilarious but we all know what we’d really do in a situation like that, and it ain’t shoot ourselves in the head.  It’s more like whoop somebody’s ass.  What about homicide prevention?  Wasn’t there a series of murders a few years back with guys coming home to shoot up their wives and kids?

At any rate, we sat through that and then I had a long talk with my sergeant about re-enlisting.  I’m still teetering on the edge of yes, no, maybe so.  I just don’t know what to do.  Then she gave me another option and that only seemed to make things even more complicated.  I also had a very long talk with another specialist who has the same feeling as mine.  She said she was confused.  We both agreed that for some reason it seems like the decision to re-enlist is life-changing.  Yes, of course, it’s life changing because we could end up deployed.  Something could happen to me over there.  Lots of things.  But that’s not necessarily what I mean.  This one decision seems like it’s going to affect everything in my whole life and I don’t know why that is.

She gave me this counseling thing and one of the questions was “are there any outside events in your life that may be affecting your military decision?”  The answer to that is no.  My parents like the fact I’m in the military.  All of my friends are in the military.  My job is military related.  My whole life, childhood and adulthood, has been military.  So why do I feel like it’s such a big deal?  I have lots of plans for my life and I don’t see how staying in the military would be detrimental.  I guess I just can’t shake that feeling.

I heard the reserves is giving out bonuses to prior service so I’m going to talk to the reserve guys this week to see what that’s about.  I have to make sure there are no strings attached like a lengthy contract, an automatic deployment or something else lame.  A couple thousand dollars is great but in all actuality I do not need a couple thousand dollars.  I want it, yes, of course, but wants and needs are two different things.

I guess the bottom line comes down to is that I will re-enlist for at least one year.  I think I just don’t know if it’s going to be the National Guard again or the Reserves.  It is going to be my same MOS, the same unit?  I don’t know.  I’m bored with my MOS.  Even if we did MOS-related training I would probably still be bored with it.  I’m tired of the negativity in our unit.  I am tired of working with people who do not care about anything.  I am tired of people who have crappy attitudes, because I fall in line right with them no matter how hard I try to stay focused.

I was given an opportunity and I think I’m going to take it.  Not because I’m totally psyched about it but because it will be something different, something new.  Sometimes all it takes is a little shake up in your life.  At least, that’s what I am going to tell myself.  Another soldier gave me some information about a potential and very interesting deployment opportunity.  Five years ago I would have been all over it, but now I’m older. My life is very comfortable.  Everything I’ve been working for is coming to a culmination.  Why would I want to screw that up by gallivanting to some war-torn country with all of its bag of tricks and miseries?

I guess a soldier ain’t supposed to think like that but I’m human first and a realist second.

I was asked when we were all going to get together again and hang out like we used to.  Since I have fired myself as the event coordinator, I don’t know when this is going to happen.  It’s not like I don’t want it to happen but it has to be on much different terms.  Things are not the same as they used to be and we should all realise that it’s very difficult to close the door once it’s been opened.  You can never really go back to the way things were.  That’s a shame, but it’s part of life and it’s better to just move on from that and not dwell on the past.

It may not be a direct result of this, but somehow, indirectly, this is why we have zero morale in the unit.  I don’t think very many of us feel like a team.  We are very cliquey and never the twain shall meet.  If we all had to be deployed together, I think we would all be very mistrusting of each other, even more so than we are now.  It’s difficult to work together in that fashion.

So yes, maybe something needs to be done, but I am not sure that I need to be the one to do it.  It needs to be a concerted effort.

At any rate…….. I don’t know how to end this so it’s just over.

Another Weekend in the Trenches #8

Since it was the December drill there isn’t really much to complain about.  December drill is usually easy:  full of briefings, the dreaded holiday party and lots of standing around pretending to be busy.  You can add cleaning weapons that are already clean and that’s pretty much how the weekend went.

I was really not looking forward to the holiday party.  Last year’s party was so terrible that I decided that I would rather go on a ruck march than to suffer another one.  Last year, there was about an inch of ice on the ground and the food was ghastly.  We had to hang out for an interminable length of time, staring round the table at people that you don’t hang out with that often.  Yeah, we’re all comrade in arms and we like each other okay, but if we had a choice we’d be with our own friends somewhere else.

I am pleased to announce that the food was edible this year, thanks to Boston Market.  Whoever had that idea, thank you.  From what I understand Lunkhead had a large hand in planning this event.  When I heard that, I was kind of worried.  I had been to his parties before and to be quite honest, they left much to be desired.  I figure it wouldn’t be too horrible because with the presence of children and wives and that sort of thing it might be slightly elevated, but then there’s no knowing anything.

Well, you know me, I give credit where credit is due.  Mr. Lunkhead’s entertainment was excellent.  The comedian was FUCKING HILARIOUS.  At first, I felt kind of forced to stay but after he started up with the military jokes, I realised that it was a pleasant surprise.  It was funny because he was saying things that we all think but never say out loud.  Every little scenario he had there was someone in the unit that matched up exactly.  Then he went into the religious jokes, and I love religious jokes so that was hilarious.  I thought it was a great way to end the evening.

The DJ could have been better, but I’m going to cut him some slack.  I think it’s because we had such a mixed crowd.  He had to play a little of everything to please everyone.  I can’t expect the man to start up with goth’s top ten.  But the sad “I’m in my room, writing in my diary, contemplating suicide” music he was playing at the first was kind of like… uhm…. is this a party or a crybaby event?  Then with the Phil Collins.  Yeah, I love Phil Collins but I listen to him when I’m like depressed.  But whatever.  At least it was background noise.

The only reason I like the holiday party and the family events is because I like to see what people look like in their civilian clothes. I also like to see their wives/husbands, see what they go home to at night.  It’s always interesting because sometimes people don’t look like what you expect them to look like.  Sometimes they surprise you and sometimes you’re just right on point.

Anyway, on Sunday something became very clear to me.

I only have four more drills left in the army.  FOUR.

This means I have done five and a half years of my six year contract.  You know I always say that I love the Army and the Army loves me.  I really believe that but sometimes you got to face reality.  Nothing ever really works out the way you plan.  I know what the army is.  It isn’t all fun and games.  It isn’t like how you see in the movies.  It’s a lot of bullshit.  It’s a lot of disrespect.  It’s a lot of waste of my time.  But then there’s the other hand.  Look what it did for my civilian career.  Look what it did for me as a person.  Look what it can still do for me.

Two years ago I said with strength that I was staying in the army forever and ever.  Now, I say that I am staying but there’s got to be some serious contemplation.  I am not going to arbitrarily go up there and raise my right hand again.  I’ve got to think about things.  I have other interests in my personal life that I’d like to pursue, but then I am still dreaming of a glorious military career.  Then there’s the general depression and low morale of my unit.  Do I want to stay in this unit?  Do I want to stay in the national guard?  Do I want to go the reserves?  I do want to change MOS?  What do I want to do?

In the next couple of weeks, I need to sit down and really think about things.  I’m going to write it all down, every choice I can make and all the pros and cons of each decision, see where it stacks up with what I want to do and where I want to go.  I’m too old to be making fly-by-night decisions.  I don’t plan on dying tomorrow but if I do I don’t want what I have right now to be wasted.  That’s just the worst.  At any rate, my mind just kind of boggled that I really only have four months left.

It seems like yesterday that I went to basic training and experienced the worst two months of my life.  Those two months ended up being life changing for me.  Dramatic, sure, but it’s the truth.  Everybody goes through things differently.  Depends on where you came from and where you’re going.  Five years ago I met a great friend at AIT.  Five years ago I decided who I was as a soldier, a Muslim and an American.  Five years ago I had a lot of hopes and dreams.

In the past five years I didn’t deploy, and not for lack of trying.  I’ve only participated in one mission.  I only earned one award.  I just came to drill every month, year after year and did the best I could.  Sometimes your best is not enough though.  No matter how I feel about something, I always try to do my best because if I should ever have to leave I don’t want anybody to remember in a way that is unsavoury.  I don’t care if I’m remembered as unlikeable or bitchy or moody.  That is irrelevant and subjective.  I might be unlikeable but I’m a hard-worker, honest, trustworthy, loyal and dependable.  That is what I hope I leave behind if I should decide to go.  That is what I hope a person will think of if I should decide to stay.

It’s all very complicated, of course.  I don’t want another six years of just coming to drill.  I don’t want another six years of the poor attitudes and negative vibes that we’ve been suffering of late.  I don’t want another six years surrounded by other soldiers, junior and senior, who don’t give a damn and don’t want to be there.  I don’t want another year of wasting my time.  I did say I wanted to be sergeant-major of the universe.  Can’t get there if I don’t get promoted.  Like I just said, I can only do my best but sometimes my best just ain’t enough.  There’s no guarantee of anything.

Anyway, that’s what I left thinking about last night.  Who knows what the future holds.

Another Weekend in the Trenches #7

I was seriously in the trenches this drill weekend.  What a roller coaster.  I can’t precisely say how I feel about this weekend; my feelings seem to be all over the place.  I started off dreading its approach because I found myself less and less in the mood to deal with bullshit.  The week before, I was thinking of ways I could get out of it but I was unsuccessful at coming up with a plausible excuse.  I was even more dejected when I found out my platoon sergeant wasn’t coming and then further slapped in the face when another comrade suddenly couldn’t go.  But I guess some things really do happen for a reason.

I was supposed to be assisting with a task but I found myself completely in charge of that task, only it did not work as well as I intended, or maybe it did.  I don’t know.  See how confusing this all is?

The whole weekend was a convergence of fuck ups, mishaps and misunderstandings, splattered over top power struggles, incompetence and sheer stupidity.  It is like with each passing drill weekend, leadership just gets more and more stupid. They make nonsensical plans that are wasteful and time consuming so that nothing real ever gets accomplished.  It’s left morale among the junior troops at an all time low.  I think if we had an option to get out right now at this very moment there would only be like two of us left, and I’m being very generous.

Last night when I was contemplating in my mind what I wanted to write for this log entry, I had a grand design of cussing everybody out, but now I see there is little point in doing so.  All the fire fueling my anger seems to have gone out.  I guess because the way I look at it, I only have 14 more days in the National Guard.  I refuse to let these experiences ruin the plans I’ve set for myself but I admit that it is hard to stay motivated.

We are no longer a team.  Forget about all that Army of One crap that was our motto a few years back.  This is the Army of You Over There and Me Over Here.  The Army of I Don’t Really Give a Shit.  And more and more, I really don’t give a shit, and I don’t want to give into that.  I’m made of sterner stuff.  After my ghastly experience at basic training, I told myself there isn’t anything I can’t get through.  So when I look at it in that light I have to say that this is not as bad as all that.  It’s not even close.

So what if I had to sleep in the arms room for reasons unknown.  It was just kind of bizarre, and for all the complaining that I did (and you know I complain about EVERYTHING, good and bad) it wasn’t even that horrible.  In fact, it was better and exactly what I’d wished for.  I came into the weekend hoping that I would be overly tasked so that I could stay perpetually busy.  I got what I asked for… in spades.  It was quiet and warm.  I wasn’t subject to the ghetto black trash with their loud R&B music and empty conversations.  I didn’t have to deal with anything that I didn’t want to deal with.  I even got my own bathroom.  What more can I ask for?  Except maybe a proper bed.  That was the only downfall.

I guess it’s irrational of me to expect leadership to have fully thought their plans through.  If they wanted a soldier to sleep in the arms room, they might have at least provided a cot.  Instead, I got one of those things that they use to carry injured patients around.  I was about an inch off the ground, but I’ll say that it was better than the sail boat bed I was gonna sleep on in the barracks.  That thing would have hurt my back. It was the stumbling around in the dark that hurt my back.  I was trying to sit down so I could put socks on and I completely missed the chair and fell down hard on on some pole thing.  Luckily no one was around to see me.

At least the weather was better for the range.  When we came out to the range in August I thought I was going to do die but this time around I was more comfortable.  It took me a second to zero because the safety who was assisting me didn’t really know what he was doing.  I think he adjusted my sights in the wrong direction the first couple of times but we did manage to get it right and I was able to zero without losing my mind.  The qualification range was one of the easiest I’ve been on.  I qualified as sharpshooter and I feel redeemed for that fiasco at Fort Pickett at which I could only knock down eight targets at a time.  I’ve been shooting all my life and never have I turned in such a dismal record.  I guess it really is the weather.  When I shoot indoors I do well.  When I shoot in the cold I do well.  When it’s hot, I just fuck up. I no longer hate the M4.

I heard that a number of people didn’t qualify but I think it’s mainly because they only got one chance at the range.  Once again, leadership failed.  Since we are national guard, we don’t get to hit the range as often as active duty.  Not everybody shoots for recreation.  Not everybody has been deployed.  Shooting is a perishable skill.  If you don’t do it often you will not be good at it and you will become lax in the fundamentals.  You have to give these people some time to accomplish the task, but I guess I’m just making too much sense.

After all, I am only an E4, and therefore completely incompetent.

And speaking of incompetence, whose super genius idea was it to conduct a PT test in the early morning hours on a cold, windy day?  That’s setting your troops up for success.  And weighing people after a long weekend of eating MREs and junk food.  Yup, that’s a real winner there.  And they wonder why morale is in the toilet and the suicide rate is high.  The army just doesn’t know how to manage its time and resources well.  I know everybody’s all into the “old school” and the way things have always been done but this is an entirely different generation; an army made up of people who don’t even remember the Vietnam War so why would you continue to preach outmoded and antiquated ideals?  But again… I’m sorry, I’m trying to see the logic.

As far as all army concerns went this weekend, it was a clusterfuck, but I have stopped stressing about things like that.  I complain about it because I like to complain about everything but if I really thought it was that serious I wouldn’t try to excel the way I do.  I still believe in the institution of the army, even if I don’t believe in the methods.  One day, it will be a new army.  I may not live to see it, but it won’t be long before the baby boomers all die off and change can really happen.

That’s enough about that.

As far as other things are concerned, well, it was interesting.  I had a few people come up and talk to me about certain things and I had to tell them that I didn’t have much to say on the subject.  During one of those lame ass briefings we had, one of the sergeants brought up something I had quite forgotten.  What is the opposite of love?  It isn’t hate, like you might think, but apathy.  When you love something you’re putting in time and energy to cultivate that love.  It’s the same with hatred.  You have to actively hate something.  You have to put force into it, effort, thought.  Hate, like love, can be consuming.  But if you’re completely apathetic, indifferent to a situation or someone or something, you don’t really give a damn at all.  You have no thought for it, no energy, no time, no nothing.  It’s just a blank space in your mind.  A void.  When he mentioned that in his brief, I realised that’s how I felt:  completely apathetic.  I feel that way about a lot of things.  I just don’t care.  It can be one way or another and either way my life would still keep moving in the same direction.

I told another friend that we are who our friends are.  We don’t like to admit it and somehow we like to think that we are different, but it’s not true.  You tend to become the people you hang around.  If you’re lucky, the people with whom you chose to spend time will be positive and uplifting.  If you’re really lucky, you’ll be the driving force and they will imitate you (that is, if you have good qualities), but most of us become clones of our friends.  If your friends are pieces of trash you yourself will become a piece of trash.  It will be difficult to distinguish you from the other, and forever more you will be likened to the crap you hang around with.

It’s not like I’m above this.  I’m human like any other, and I notice that I was picking up the same qualities that I’ve always abhorred in others.  When I look in the mirror I want be okay with myself.  I don’t need justification from other people; I need justification from myself, and if I don’t like myself or what I’m becoming there’s a problem and a change needs to be made.  I explained this and I was surprised that there was such agreement in my statement.  It is what it is and I’m okay with that.  I think it’s unfortunate that many people do not themselves realise this.  I also think it’s sad when you indeed do see the problem but you fail to correct it because you are concerned of what others might think.  In the end, you’re only important to yourself.  You are the one who takes care of yourself.  Yes, we have good friends that will be there when we need them but when it all comes down to it, you have to be able to take care of yourself.

I’m okay with that.  Later on, someone else came up to talk to me about cohesion and stability but I had nothing to add to that conversation.  I agreed that something needs to be done, but I don’t think I’m the one that needs to do it.  There’s being the bigger person and then there’s being a punching bag.  I’m not smart enough to be the former and I’m too smart to be the latter.

I just think that ….. well, who really cares what I think?

After drill, SF and I went to McCormick and Schmick’s Seafood Restaurant in DC.  They did their Veteran’s Day special where you get a free meal for serving in the military.  Applebee’s and Subway are doing the same thing on Veteran’s Day, but Applebee’s is common people food and I wouldn’t eat at Subway even if Jesus commanded it.  We invited Maq but she had the kids and wouldn’t come out.  It was nice to hang out after drill to wash away the stresses of the military with several glasses of wine and a mimosa.  Surprisingly, I wasn’t even tired like I usually am after a long drill.  After dinner, I ended up coming home to a Star Trek marathon and a long walk on my treadmill.

I ended the evening with a thought:  he who dies with the most toys still dies.

Optional, For Use On Longer Entries #7

So apparently they are not playing.  I said I wasn’t going to be depressed anymore about this, but then I just spoke to someone and it’s not a game anymore,  2010.

I thought they were going to give us an opportunity to meet the standard, but they have already decided that some people just need to go to Fat Camp anyway without even getting a chance.  I guess their reasoning is that they failed all last year so might as well, but my thing is that it was last year.  This is a whole new year, or whatever.  So you should not bring with you last year’s drama.

That is my method of thinking, but I guess I’m thinking logically again.  You stop that, Specialist.  That’s not the army way.

Now I’m stressed again.  They haven’t said anything to me, but this just highlights the gravity of the situation.  I have never felt so much pressure to be a certain way.  Why can’t we just be happy with ourselves?

Oh wait, the army does not want you to be happy.

I am frustration up again.

Another Weekend in the Trenches #6

What a thoroughly depressing weekend.

I go through these love/hate cycles with the army.  I’ve said before the army is my abusive boyfriend that I’m scared to get rid of.  He beats me up but then tells me he loves me, and I won’t leave him because I think next time is going to be different.

Friday after work I had unusual energy but since the PT test was Saturday morning, I did not want to do anything that would jeopardise my results.  Instead, I spent the evening cleaning my house and watching Lupin III. I did a nice power walk and a couple of sessions of yoga so that I would be at peak operating capacity.

Saturday morning, I got to the track early so I could walk and warm my muscles up.  For some reason I felt nervous, like I wasn’t going to do well, which is absurd, but I couldn’t shake the feeling.  I imagined that I would fall and break a leg or my stomach would cramp up, or something.  I’m always so spastic.

I ended up doing quite well on the PT test.  In fact, it was one of my better tests.  I did 40 push ups, 60 sit ups and did the two mile run in 17:42, or something to that effect.  I scored 248.  I’m pleased with those results.  Naturally, I failed the weight.  I was disappointed about that, but I kind of expected it.  It seems I’m going in two different directions.  I get more physically fit but I get fatter.  How does that work?  I don’t know.  So I have another month of starving myself so I can attempt to make weight so I won’t be sent to Fat Camp in January.

The good thing about the PT test is that it takes up most of the day, but leadership is on this new thing now that we will stay the entire training day because there is a lot of stuff to do.  They say this all the time and I would like to know what all the stuff is that we have to do.  Don’t be vague. I’m going to complain about everything but I will complain less and be less vocal if I knew that there was some actual stuff to be completed and not just you posturing.

We sat in briefings all afternoon and when the briefings were completed, we went outside to PMCS the vehicles, like we always do every month.  Their claim is that we PMCS the vehicles today and we won’t have to do it next month before we go to AP Hill.  It is highly unlikely that we will not PMCS the vehicles again, but there’s nothing that can be done about.  There will be no way to solve world peace and there will be no way to never again PMCS the vehicles.

It was like 1758 when we were released.  I was starving, thoroughly and irritated.  SF came over to cheer me up though.  I’m so glad she’s back.  We got into one of our rounds of talking forever and ever until she had to leave to celebrate her brother’s birthday.  I had originally planned to go out but I got a little bit sleepy.  Getting out so late, I don’t have time to take a nap in the evening before going out.  I wish I would have, then I would not have been in such a shitty mood on Sunday.

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed on Sunday because my neighbours decided they wanted to do laundry at 11PM.  I was already in bed when they came to the door.  The boyfriend was like, “I need to wash something for work tomorrow.”  Lack of planning on your part does not mean an emergency on mine.  You know when you have to work.  You know you need that shirt.  I left the house at 6AM that morning and I was gone until 630PM.  You had 12. 5 hours to come down and do your damn laundry.  Even on top of that, I let them come down until around 9.  I ask that they start their last load at 8 so they can finish drying by 9, so I can have some peace and quiet and walk around naked if I want to.

At 11PM, I am on my own personal time.  I told him that he was welcome to come back at 6AM to wash his shirt.  I would be awake, making breakfast at that hour and he would not be disturbing me from my sleep.  He got all huffy and slammed the door.  Did h come back at 6aM?  No he did not.  I guess that shirt wasn’t that serious.

Sunday saw us in more briefings.  Every year it’s the same stuff and I was sitting there regretting that I hadn’t gone out the night before.  I could almost hear the club music reverberating through space beckoning me.  Oh well.  There’s always next weekend.  I spent some time getting to know some of the newer soldiers in our unit.  We’ve gotten a sudden influx of soldiers and they kind of just mill around looking hopeless.

I’m not generally a friendly person, but it was something to do.

I noticed that I am slipping back into old behaviours.  When I worked at TSA, I was quite guilty of allowing other people to dictate my emotions.  I used to let myself get sucked in to whatever was going on in other people’s lives, much to my detriment.  My old friend Crystal told me something very important that made me see the error of my ways.  She said, “You are who your friends are.”  When she first said this to me, I didn’t want to believe it, but I’m a person who spends a lot of time in contemplation.  All at once I saw that she was right.  When I was at TSA, I had to go through a very difficult time cutting people out of my life because they were bringing me down with their attitudes.

I didn’t want to do it because I didn’t want to be without friends, but no friends is better than those type of friends.  It took me a long time to realise this, and I see that I’m doing it to myself again.  When will I learn that I am better off by myself?  When will I learn that I do not need people in my life that will drag me down the same slippery slope of despair they are on?  I have my own problems, I can fuck up my own life.  I don’t need someone else to do it for me.  The fault is all mine, but thankfully I am seeing this sooner rather than later.  This is not going to be a TSA experience where I don’t realise the truth until it’s too late.

I got an award–well, certificate of appreciation, for something I did last year.  If I hadn’t been so upset I might have enjoyed receiving the award, and then on top of that, the award said SERGEANT, something I feel like I’m never going to be.  So on top of being slapped in the face, I also got punched and kicked.  When I got home, I just threw it behind a stack of books because it’s a little bit worthless.  But thanks for asking.

And just to let you know how my abusive boyfriend treats me.  He gives me flowers before beating me up.  After receiving the award, I had to go see my sergeant so I can get my counseling statement for being a big fat pig beast.  Whatever.  I will allow myself to be depressed about this only for the rest of the day.

I was talking to SPC L., one of the new guys in the unit, and I told him that I was trying hard not to get sucked into everybody’s depression and malcontent.  I am unhappy with the unit.  Morale is low.  But I don’t want this to ruin my army experience.  I don’t want to get out of the army and have nothing good to say about the whole thing.  I don’t want all of these things to make up what the army meant to me.  When I look back, I don’t want to have to say, “I joined the army and it was the worst thing ever.”  A friend of mine feels that way about his Marine Corps career.  It’s like a waste of your life.  Everybody is so down.  Nobody has bee promoted.  No matter how good you do, nobody seems to care.  They only harp on the bad things.  They are quick to counsel you for everything negative, but nobody is ever like, “Hey, that was a good job.”

But there’s so much stuff to do.

As a result, most of the soldiers have contracted bad attitudes.  Some are worse than others and it’s contagious.  It’s a cancer that is slowly spreading and infecting all the good tissue.  Once it becomes this bad, the only thing to do is cut off all the bad parts, but the sad thing about the army is that you can’t get rid of the shit so easily.  So you have to carry around the malignant waste and let it destroy everything it touches.

I’m trying hard not to let it touch me.

I let myself fall into a bit of depression this weekend, but I vow that it will go no further.  Next weekend, I will endeavour to inoculate myself against infection, even if it means quarantine.  I have eight months left before I can make a major move.  I didn’t do this shit for nothing.  I still have goals to achieve and miles to go before I sleep.  I don’t need dead weight dragging me down.

Anyway, what’s done is done and thankfully, nobody can control time.  I don’t have to go back to those moments.  I get to keep moving forward.  I get to make new decisions.  I get to choose what to do with the time that is given to me.

That’s a saving grace.  I’ll let myself continue to be depressed about this until tonight.  Tomorrow I will wake up with all of this behind me.  In November I will return with renewed vigour and a sense of direction (oh yeah, and like 10 pounds thinner) so I can accomplish what I set out to do.

I got miles to go before I sleep.
Miles to go before I sleep.

Oh yeah, I forgot to add this.  Hahahahah.  You lunk, you did all that talking but yet once again, you failed to deliver.  I am disappointed in you!  We worked so hard all summer.  You’re supposed to be someone that sets an example for the rest of us.  You’re supposed to be someone that we look up to, but yet, it’s nothing but excuses.  You need to start putting your money where your mouth is.  Your game is weak.  Talk, talk, talk, but never any results.

I will see you at the finish line.

Scenes From the Front, Part 2

I apologise if this is a little messy. I’m writing to you from my iPhone in a tent in the middle if nowhere on the far side of the moon.

So in addition to my specialized training in kicking rocks, I have a new highly sought after skill: mopping floors. Imagine being so good at your job that they call you all the way from across the country to do said job.

I want YOU to mop my floors.

I didn’t know my MOS translated to house slave. But that’s cool. This is the army and I know I have to take my licks like everybody else. Until the day I am promoted to sergeant major of the universe I am just another lackey in a field full of lackeys.

So yesterday I discovered I had three additional sisters. Riding back to the barracks from the qual range (which is a disaster I’ll tell you about in a minute) I found I had three other sisters. It is amazing how our mother was able to produce us across our age span with such varying features as skin tone, facial shape and body type. Either our mother is a skank trollop or we are a work of scientific art.

We’re sitting on the bus minding our own business and this guy is like “are you sisters?” Uhm, do we fucking look like sisters? Apparently we do. Forget about the fact that we are about 10-16 years apart. One is light coloured, the other two are brown and the last one is tan. I know all kids from a set of parents don’t have to look perfectly alike but the four of us look NOTHING alike. We don’t have one similar feature. We just stared at him like what the fuck.

Then he went into this thing about our division and how he thinks it’s weird that Maryland is a part of the division when it’s supposed to be just Virginia.

WTF.

Kick rocks.

Oh, wait I’ve already done that.

So yesterday we had a really shitty day on the range. I love to shoot. I’ve been doing it for a long time. It’s something I look forward to. I’ve been especially looking forward to shooting the new M4.

#fail
#fail
#fail

The first go I was getting too hot so I had to stop shooting in the middle of the kneeling position. I scored a whopping 12. The second time I improved by shooting 14. I decided that I may need some assistance so I went to the shooting SME to get some remedial training. I was feeling all pumped afterward and when I got out on the line I just knew I was going to shoot 32.

Yeah, how about a shot 8? Eight. After that I just gave up. I committed an act of rebellion by refusing to go back on the range until the heat died down. Apparently everyone else was feeling the same way because the range NCOIC was like “fuck it, we’re shutting this shit down.” After only like 6 rounds of shooters.

I just hate doing things that I consider to be a waste of time. You know I love the army but we do need to get into the 21st century and I need all these old ass baby boomer officers and their 1981 method of thinking to get lost

That is all for now. They need me to kick rocks again.

Scenes From the Front, Part 1

I knew this wasn’t going to be like taking a vacation to Club Med.  I knew it was going to bad, but I didn’t think it was going to be as bad as all this.  Yes, another year in the trenches.  Another annual training.  Another “vacation” with the army.  I don’t know where they got us.  I take that back.  I know exactly where I am.  If there is a beautiful paradise in the centre of the universe, this is the place that its furthest from.  I am on the edge of the earth, in a little backwater somewhere in Virgnia having a grand ole time in the hot as sun like one of the Hebrews working on the pyramids back in the time before Jesus was born.

Why does everything in the army NOT come with air conditioning?  Seriously.  It is like they purposely built things so that they would be air condition-less forever and ever, amen.  None of the buildings, none of the vehicles.  Nothing.  Everything is as hot and dry as the backside of the sun and it’s about 212 degrees out with 250% humidity.  I am sure I lost 12 pounds 15 minutes after arrival.

But what’s worse than forsaking air conditioning?  Forsaking internet.  This is the 21st century.  The country has just stood up its first cyber command, recognising that the internet and everything it entails is firmly engraved in our society.  There is no turning back from this.  Facebook, twitter and CNN.com have taken over our lives.  If we cannot tweet, text or BBM, we will commit mass suicide.  So why are we some place where this is no WIFI?  Why do we not have internet, anywhere?  Why is there some special building for accessing the outside world like this is a 1986 computer lab filled with Apple IIe computers? 

I am so far out on the edge of nowhere that I cannot get internet service on my phone.  Apple, I abhor that you had to shack up with AT&T.  They don’t have coverage everywhere.  While I love my iPhone, I’ve always hated AT&T.  All my friends with Verizon are able to stay connected, but AT&T, oh no, there’s like this dead zone.  My Facebook app hasn’t been updated in almost 36 hours.  This is a no-go.  I need to know what we’re doing about this.  So no internet in the barracks.  No internet on my phone.  No internet anywhere.

How am I writing this?

I took it back to the stone ages.  I got a rock table, a hammer, some twine, a fire for smoke signals and a carrier pigeon.  I put them all together so that I could create a computer and internet so I could write in my blog.  Actually, there is a computer lab and I just happen to be on duty in the lab and I’m using this opportunity to update everything I possibly can. 

Anyway, so I want to take this opportunity to let you all know why I joined the army.  It is because I get to do super sensitive specialised training.  Some of that training I cannot tell you about.  It is that ultra top secret.  It is so super sensitive that if I tell you I’m going to have to kill myself because even I’m not allowed to know about this super special training.  But because I really want you all to know what it is I do for the army and why I was so eager, I am going to tell you just one facet of my amazing job here in the army.  It really is a great thing that I do.  I am proud to put on this uniform so I can perform this duty. Let me tell you what it is.

I kick rocks.

Yes, literally, I kick rocks.  They give us these boots that are designed specifically for kicking rocks.  Even the uniform has special functions for kicking rocks.  I am apart of a unique force protection unit that kicks rocks for the good of mankind.  If we do not kick rocks we are not doing our job.  Kicking rocks is an important function of the army.  I feel proud when I talked to my family about my military duties.  I say to them, “Mom, Dad, today I kicked rocks.”  And they said, “We’re so proud of you, daughter, for kicking rocks.  Not many people have the courage to do what you do.  Kicking rocks is not an easy job.” 

If any of you out there are reading this and you want to know what you can do for your country, you can kicks rocks.  I urge you to get in contact with your nearest military recruiter and find out if you can kick rocks for the U. S. Army.  We do not have enough troops on the ground kickings rocks for the good of our nation.  We do not have enough troops out there fighting the good fight by kicking rocks.  Don’t let those anti-military people tell you that kicking rocks is bad.  It is a centrifugal part of our mission.  We fight terrorists by kicking rocks.

When John F. Kennedy said,

“Ask not what your country can do for you–ask what you can do for your country,”

he meant….

kick rocks.

Another Weekend in the Trenches #3

As we gear up for our mission to Omicron Persei 8, the weekends seem like they’re getting longer and more jam-packed.  Definitely more exhausting, but also more entertaining as well.  I guess this is the time to separate the men from the boys.  In a bizarre way, I am looking forward to all of this, but then at the same time, I’m not.  Whoever said location was everything, they’re wrong.  Timing is everything.  I have other things going on in my life right now I’d rather focus than going to Omicron, but since I raised my right hand, there’s just no other way around it.  Why could this not have been last year some time when I was bored senseless and on the verge of dying?  Practioners of my faith believe that fate is already written in the sands.  Not so much as predestination, but more like, you’re always going where you’re supposed to go.  Perhaps there is something out there that I need to see right now, rather than last year or some other year.  Maybe there is something out there I need to do, right now, not last week, not next week or some other time.  I don’t want to turn this into a philosophical musing, so I guess I’ll hold that thought for some other blog.

I always hate three day weekends because they cramp my style from doing what I need to do. I can’t get to the market.  I can’t go out (not unless I want to be a zombie the next day).  Then turn around it’s Monday already and I have to put up with everything for a whole ‘nother week.  Then February and March drill were almost back to back.  No sooner had I got rid of the images of my fellow soldiers was I back in their face again the week afterwards.  And we’re going to be stuck together on another planet for an entire year.  The notion boggles the mind.

Friday, we started out with an endless round of Powerpoint presentation.  The military is so … watch a Powerpoint and you’ll know everything … There’s not much interaction in these things and you’re basically being talked at for half the day and then expected to retain to the information.  I don’t know what kind learner everyone else is, but I have a tendency to just blank out.  I always make sure I’m staring straight ahead, because I don’t want to look like I’m not paying attention or falling asleep, but for the most part I am not paying attention.  This is why I did not do well in traditional college.  I can’t sit there while some blabbering idiot is reading bullets off a slide.  Since these particular tasks don’t involve running through the woods armed to the teeth, I guess the Army figures we are incapable of learning in any other fashion.  I am not even sure what we talked about.  There’s a few briefings that stick out in my mind, but the rest… who even knows.  I remember one, not for the content, but because the speaker is simply ineloquent.  Half the time I didn’t even know what he was saying.  I hope he wasn’t telling me something important.

I think I discovered on Friday why it is I like to hang out by myself and why I have very limited friends.  Partly, I am a rude bitch to everyone I meet until I get to know them, but more importantly, I am seeing that oftentimes friendship requires more patience, time and sanity than I am willing to give.  I like people.  I’m actually quite social, but in the end, I like to go home by myself, curl up on my couch by myself and wander around steeped in my own thoughts by myself.  Other people can be draining, even the most well-meaning persons.  And in this day and age, so many of the social graces are lacking, particularly in people my age and younger.  I’m at the cusp, where I can either be an old person or a young person.  Older people come with a whole bag of problems that mostly involve their marital affairs, that I don’t want to be involved with, but younger people… they are socially inept.  Everyone these days is so opinionated and not that there’s anything wrong in that, it’s just that people tend to take their beliefs and opinions to the ultimate level.  I admire passion when passion is required, but not everything is a fire.  When it becomes difficult for two people to go out and “have a beer” just because they don’t see eye to eye on something, something so trivial, especially, it’s a nuisance.  Younger people like to recite this mantra, “It’s my life and if I want to do it [or not do it].  I can do what I want.  What’s it to you?” 

That is such a lame argument to me because it doesn’t have any real meaning, it doesn’t say anything.  Yes, of course, it is your life.  But in case you didn’t realise, you don’t live on the planet alone.  These are the same people (and not just young people, EVERYBODY is guilty of this) who do off the wall things because “they can and they want to” but then become irritated when someone passes judgement on them.  If it’s your life and you want to do whatever it is you want, you wouldn’t even acknowledge the fact that someone has “thought” something about you.  You would simply continue to do whatever it is, or not do whatever it is, without thought or regard to anyone else.  You wouldn’t take up such a defensive posture with the tired tag line, “It’s my life.”  I guess some people think they can easily go through life doing whatever they want without consequence or effect on someone else.  These people are sadly mistaken.  They don’t realise the errors of their ways until some future date (not necessarily when they get older, to use a lame old people line), but when the moment comes, simply.  Other times, these people never see the truth. 

On the other side of the coin, is the person who thinks they can change the world by simply having an opinion.  In case you didn’t get the memo, opinions really are like assholes; everyone has them.  There’s no way around it.  But simply because you think doesn’t mean everyone else thinks and just because they don’t think doesn’t make them beneath you or deserving of your judgement and vengeful criticism.  And then when these people express their opinion so beautifully, so eloquently, fired by the very passions of the soul, they become enraged when someone dares have a thought opposite them.  They declare, “It is impossible to talk to you,” or “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”  That’s a good line.  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”  If it is such an irritant to have someone gainsay you, then maybe you should not have volunteered your thoughts in the first place.  That is the way of the world.  If you think, someone will think against you and you must be prepared for it.  Not flop into a fit and rattle off, “Well, that’s just my opinion.”

That’s just as bad as, “It’s my life.”

There is beauty in a well-worded argument.  These days everyone takes everything so personally, and they attack on the most basic level without really offering the evidence for their argument.  They become huffy and incensed, and then storm off or fly into a rant about the other person when the actual subject is the opinion, the thing, not the person.  I cannot imagine that anybody ever says anything in the hopes that no one will respond.  That’s actually worse than a naysayer, not having a thought against your thought, making what you believe absolutely meaningless.

Not that I’m saying I’m anymore righteous than the next person.  I get irritated when people do not do what I want them to do.  I complain a lot.  I’m unbelievably lazy.  I also condescend to people I think are less intelligent than I.  Sometimes I try to work on these flaws and other times I let them loose.  I notice that when we are at drill, all the irritations about our personalities come to a head.  Perhaps it is because we are in a situation we don’t want to be in.  Sometimes I think it’s the way in which we deal with stress.  Most of the time, I think it’s because we were not properly schooled in the ways of polite socialisation.  Just something for thought, because I’ve already rambled on enough as it is.

Friday night, the female half of the Mafia decided that we should go to Silver Spring to see a fellow soldier and her new baby.  We randomly started this thing where we should hang out one night after drill, have some dinner, have a few drinks, laugh it up and work off the annoyances of the day.  Even that was a debate in itself.  I didn’t want to drive halfway cross the country to eat dinner, and everyone was annoyed with me because in the end I didn’t want to go because I have this thing about driving halfway round the world just to eat or visit somebody.  Then they wanted to go to Wal-Mart first, which I try to avoid (and not because I don’t like black people) but because they have horrible business practises, the place smells and is always dirty and poorly stocked, not to mention there are other undesirables I’d rather avoid (THANK YOU VERY MUCH!).  I guess that’s the snob in me.  I saw that it would take forever to visit (because you don’t just drop in on a woman who just had a baby, throw some flowers at her and leave.  There’s at least an hour of admiring the baby and talking about the whole birthing experience) and then drive out to Bethesda for dinner on a Friday night.  At that rate we wouldn’t eat until about 8PM.  I was only a little bit off; we sat down to dine at 730.  SF wanted to wear her civilian clothes, much to the annoyance of me and everybody else.  In the end she wound up not coming, and in that respect only, I was glad she didn’t come along because I had no desire to wear regular clothes, especially as her reasons for wanting to do so were absurd and suited only her.  I did want her to come out with us because I think she’s a likeable person (if quirky and off occasionally) and other people are so quick to jump on her for so many reasons that they dare not look to deeply at for fear of the truth slapping them in the face.

It was quite an adventure just getting to Silver Spring.  We drove around town for an hour and ended up in DC.  Then we decided to block traffick so Waders could get cussed at by a fireman.  We did get there eventually and saw the kid, but only after some confusion about a room change and then sitting around in an abandoned lobby area.  Now you already know I am not interested in seeing anybody’s kid.  I don’t think newborn babies are cute.  Mothers and fathers are always so proud of what they have created but I just cannot share in their joy.  Nothing is worse than a dreary rain cloud hovering over your moment, so in general I avoid new mothers and their infants until the newness has worn off.  I always feel so awkward because I never have anything nice to say but I don’t really want to be insulting.  I only went because I wanted to hang out afterwards.

After that, we ended up in downtown Silver Spring, which proved to be an amusing adventure, including being serenaded by bums and becoming a financial spokesperson for the entire army.  I’m sorry that we cannot appear to hang out as a group; I think larger parties are always more entertaining because of all the personalities in the mix, but once again, this is what happens when people lack social graces. 

Saturday and Sunday was more of the same:  an endless round of forgettable briefings. 

By the end of the weekend I had learned several lessons:

Lesson 7 (a lesson I’ve learned before):  People who say they are your friend may not hold you in the same esteem as you hold them.  Most of the time relationships are unequal, with one putting out more than they are receiving.  Perception is also everything.  On the other hand, where you think you don’t have a friend, that person might actually be your strongest champion.  Oftentimes it is our unwillingness to look at the bigger picture that we fail to see what is really going on around us.

Lesson 141:  Keep your enemy within your sights at all times.  Don’t be mislead by a decoy.  While you’re focused on the bait, you never see the shot that kills you.

Lesson 142:  Don’t let anybody use you as a launching pad.  Don’t be the trigger, when you can be the gun.

Lesson 24 (another lesson I learned before):  Maintain your cool.  Don’t let anybody take you outside yourself.  Keep a level head and review each situation objectively.  Take it like you’re on the outside looking in.  If you separate yourself from the situation, you’ll be able to make much better decisions.  Don’t react on the fly.  You almost always come to the wrong conclusion and take the wrong action.

And that was my weekend in the trenches.