broken foot

I left my phone behind for most of the day, thinking that no one is going to bother to call me. (As usual, everyone is busy or forgot my existance!) When I finally get around to checking it, I saw that I had a voicemail message from Fifi.

"Hey Techno, it's Fifi... *pause* My m-effing foot is broke. I'm so effing mad. *sniffle* And, um I don't know when I'll be able to use the phone again. Um, they're sending me off post apparently to get a cast. *pause, sniffle* I'm pissed. Anyways, I'll talk to you later, bye."

Wow. The poor thing was in tears. And you know it's bad when Fifi is both crying and swearing. I feel like the shittiest friend ever for taking a whole 12 hours to respond.

The only good thing is that since it happened on Uncle Sam's time and since it's documented, she won't have to worry about paying for treatment. If there's a problem later, it'll be taken care of.

The bad thing is that the time that she needs to heal is longer than the time she has left in mobilization training. Fifi may not mob. Or she may mob late. Either way, it's really going to affect things.

Stupid wall. Stupid me.

family day brief

Wow, so, talk about information overload. I'm not even going to touch everything that we talked about during the briefing just because of the sheer amount of information covered. The only important things were education and finance, and I'm going to leave it that way. There's nothing I can do about either until I actually get over there.

But I was looking forward to this brief. It was the first time in weeks that I've been around other military types -- especially those that I know. And I got to see pretty much everyone that I had been missing since reclass graduation. Shorty, Sgt Z, Twig, FratBoy, GlamourBeauty, EnglishProf, ArmyBrat, JazzMan, Nerd, Spaz, LittleBit, Hipster, Medic, Joker... Well, almost everyone. Chica? MIA, but bound to be around eventually. Fifi is in another state, at her mobilization station, hobbling around on crutches and counting down days. She'll end up in a whole different country. Kind of sobering, when you think about it.

JazzMan's parental units were not in attendence, and I always feel a little bad about it when I notice it. Is that wrong of me? It was just kind of weird, sitting between Medic's mom and my mom, with ArmyBrat and his parents across the table, and JazzMan just sitting by himself in the middle of it all. Or maybe he's used to it. Nonetheless, my parents have adopted him. I hope they take it further and make sure that he gets mail and phone calls.

Anyways... I did find out where my HomeBase over there will be, and for a variety of reasons, I'm not releasing it. My family and the boyfriend will know, of course, but I'm debating on who else to tell. Don't worry, it's a great place to be and I'm going to be just another fobbit, with luck.

However, blogging is frowned upon due to security purposes and rumor control. So I have to be really careful to keep myself out of trouble. That means few details, even more pseudonames, and no release of my current location, training or duty details. I mean, the social stuff alone is enough fodder for a soap opera! Plus I'm going to be investigated for a security clearance, and that's even more reason to stay under the radar.

Oh yes, the security clearance. Hands down it's the most annoying worksheet that I've ever had to fill out. It's a bitch, quite frankly. Thirty-one pages to cover my life all the way back to my 16th birthday. There's not enough space for foreign travel, my foreign "associates" (AKA my very close epals, MeuAmor, MeuAmor's immediate family, and Amiga), and education beyond junior high. There may or may not be enough space for my employment history. Yeah. I've jotted down all of the information and I'm having a hard time making heads or tails of it. But really, I'm squeaky clean, promise!

Really, what am I going to be doing that I'll need a security clearance? Whatever it is, I bet you that I can't tell you.

hugs and kisses

Because Fifi is on crutches, only has access to email about once every three days, and still hasn't heard from SilentType, I sent the following on her behalf:

This is Techno, I had to hack into Fifi's account because she's worried sick about you. EMAIL HER BACK, DAMMIT!!!!! Did she mention that she fell off a WALL?!?!?!? NO?? Then email!

Hugs and kisses,
Techno and Fifi

We were amused.

Wall 1, Fifi 0

When you get into it with a wall, and the wall wins, it's best to call it a day.

Poor Fifi was scaling a wall, and was on the way down when her foot got caught in a board and went tumbling down. They sent her x-rays to a foot doctor to see what's exactly wrong, and they sent her to back to the barracks.

Poor, poor Fifi.

Wall 1, Fifi 0.

friends

Yesterday I got a call from Fifi. It was her first day being able to go off-post, and they got to go to WalMart. How so very nonexciting. No drinking, no clubbing, a curfew, and a group of very uptight females. Apparently they're so afraid that someone will attempt to peek in the very very high windows in the barracks that they've taped up paper over all of the windows, and heaven forbid if you take the paper down.

Plus, her man, SilentType, was in Sweetheart's group, and they're long long gone. She keeps forgetting that he's gone in her excitement of doing new Army things and will call SilentType's cell phone to tell him and gets his voicemail: "Hello, this is SilentType. I can't come to the phone right now so if you would please leave a message..." It breaks her heart. In short, she's miserable.

No email from Sweetheart, and I'm not counting on getting one. It would be better if I didn't. I don't know. He keeps asking me if I would want to go to Baghdad. No no no no. He knows enough people that he could pull the strings to make it happen, and I know that I'd be put up in a palace, get really easy duty, and have access to everything I would want, but no. No no no no.

Then again, who knows where I'm going to end up.

two thirds, at least

SRP? Check. Reclass school? Check. Mobilization? I'll get through it.

I'm mostly there. It could be worse.

It's just the anticipation messing with my head.

I think I found the root of the problem

When they look at me, do they only see the soldier? Is that all they care about?

Why not mention that I'm a student? That I work at a planetarium? That I can shake up an internet connection anywhere?

Why point out the thing about myself that I like the least?

goodbyes of sorts

Sweetheart called today. He and his group leave tomorrow. Tomorrow. For Iraq. Yeah, add that to the list of things that I really don't want to think about right now.

Now I have to wait two, three, four days for an email saying "I'm here." Which is exactly the same kind of email I'll be sending out in a few months.

surreal

It feels so weird to know that I'll be leaving soon, and not be coming back for a long, long time.

Anyways... my little cousins got their postcards that I sent the day before I left. The oldest, Cousin 1, sat down and read all of the postcards to his brothers. He's about six or seven, I think. Cousin 3 carried his around all night. My uncle said they all thought it was the coolest thing ever. I miss them like crazy. I think that I'll take a trip just to see them soon.

Mom said that we should make sure that they get my address when I go over. I'm hoping that they'll send me crayon drawings and silly kid letters.

trying

He wants to try, so we'll try. We had a long talk about a lot of things, including the deployment. Fifi's advice was probably the best: it's just a reaction to deployment, and there's nothing about it that is in his control.

It just kills me that I'm supposed to be in Brazil right now. Such is life.

Speaking of Fifi, she called from her mobilization station. The Army never ceases to amaze me. There is no running water in her barracks, the latrine/shower point is roughly 50 meters away, battle buddy teams are required to go anywhere, have to sleep with your weapon, and other nonsense. Also, her bulletproof vest is two sizes too large and the plates to go in said vest are two sizes too small. They've issued her all of the cold weather gear that a soldier stationed in Alaska could hope for... when she's going to Iraq. And, the ultimate military nonsurprise: her paperwork is screwed up. We love the Army, not.

Sgt Z called and told me that AT is unofficially officially optional. And that we'll be under the command of the gaining unit around next week-ish. I'm excited. In case you were curious, I never did find out if I was "officially excused" from the band AT.

Still trying, regardless.

contrasts

Sweetheart called me while he was still at the range. Our conversation was punctuated by the bang-bang-bang of machine gun fire.

On the very scary plane ride home, I pretty much decided that MeuAmor, the Army, and I are not going to work out. He's been angry about my deployment since I told him about it, and it hasn't gotten any better. I cancelled my trip to Brazil, and now I'm breaking it off with the Brazilian boyfriend. Go figure, eh?

In not so many words, he told me that it was him or the Army. Amor, I love you, I'm crazy about you, but don't make ultimatums involving the Army. You will always lose. He says that he said it in anger. It doesn't matter. It stung then and it hurts now.

Everyone else has not exactly been okay with it, but at least no one has been angry. At least not like he has been.

I went to the club last week in tears. Instructor Playa talked to me. Fifi talked to me. Chica talked to me. And Sweetheart spent the night talking to me, dancing with me, and making sure that I was alright.

Such a contrast.

so very very lost

My mom asked "So what are we going to do tonight?"

In the back of my mind, I heard Fifi's voice saying "The same thing we do every night - plan to take over the Army!"

On the phone with Sweetheart, I heard a helicopter in the background. Men moving around the barracks, voices and their numerous converstions mixed with the sound of cleaning weapons.

I woke early in the morning, expecting to hear the sound of soldiers calling cadence to their run or convoys rolling down the road. Instead, my cat curled up next to me, begging for attention.

At lunchtime I told my mom "I'm hungry, but the chowhall is closed." She laughed at me.

Dinner was lobster and pierogi. I was craving both. And the Army serves neither.

I feel so lost.

home soon

The only thing left is lots of cleaning, but that's to be expected.

We're all sad. For different reasons. Shorty is gone, gone, gone. It hit me this morning. I know I'll see her soon. Fifi will be leaving to mobilize. I don't want her to go. I wish she was staying with us.

Anyways, home soon.