I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can....
Yeah, I'd write more but my dumb self left my thumbdrive at the office. Sorry.
29 August 2006
27 August 2006
26 August 2006
still miss you - written on 25 August 2006
Recently, I recieved an email from Fifi, stating that she arrived safe and sound. An excerpt of my favorite part:
I got up this morning and thought that I was walking on the surface of the sun and then it got hot. [...] The ride here was about 3 hours, [...] But there is nothing like driving down the street in a really big bus and have a truck pass you and a camel in the back looking in your window.I know that the email seems positive, but you almost have to know her to understand how she conveys her emotions. She doesn't sound so good, but that's kind of to be expected. Her life has been in total upheaval before she even came to reclass school. Fifi had just finished another MOS school before coming to our school, and overall, has spent more time on active duty than at home with her family. Her daughter is pregnant and having complications -- plus the baby is due before Fifi can get R&R leave. SilentType, who she was really looking forward to seeing again, dumped her via email. And on top of all of that, she's been shipped off to a foreign country.
I just hope that she'll be okay.
This time it's not personalDear Fifi, I still miss you.
The universe will help you now
To find a place you can breathe
And do what you've got to do
Keep taking it easyCome on, I'll let you borrow my four leaf clover
Come on, take it with you, you can pass it on
Come on, you know that I'm not the kind to say that it's over
We'll be rubbing shoulders once again in the sun
--"Four Leaf Clover" by Badly Drawn Boy
These boots are killing me! - written on 25 August 2006
Already I have a love-hate relationship with my boots. I love them because I don't have to polish them anymore. I love them because the soles are actually shock-absorbing instead of just hard rubber (or whatever it is that they use). However, I hate them because, afterall, they are combat boots and they need to be broken in. And breaking in boots is never a pretty process.
If I've learned nothing else during my time in the Army, I've definitely found out the hard way that I have narrow heels. My heels don't sit properly in the boot and they rub against the boot with every step I take. And there is absolutely nothing that can be done about sizing that particular part of the foot. As long as the boot fits snugly across the toes and fits well length-wise, the Army will sign off on it. If the boot rubs, oh well. And I've been "oh well'ed" every single time that I've been fitted for boots.
Fortunately, companies have been keen on this issue and there is all sorts of stuff out there. The PX carries heel snugs, moleskin, several different kinds of insoles, and boot socks. A ten dollar pair of socks, some moleskin, and insoles do wonders.
But did I actually do any of this before I put on my brand new pair of boots? No. Do I know better? Yes. Especially now that I have huge blisters on the backs of my heels to the point where I'm limping around. Stupid Techno.
Good thing that I stocked up on moleskin.
If I've learned nothing else during my time in the Army, I've definitely found out the hard way that I have narrow heels. My heels don't sit properly in the boot and they rub against the boot with every step I take. And there is absolutely nothing that can be done about sizing that particular part of the foot. As long as the boot fits snugly across the toes and fits well length-wise, the Army will sign off on it. If the boot rubs, oh well. And I've been "oh well'ed" every single time that I've been fitted for boots.
Fortunately, companies have been keen on this issue and there is all sorts of stuff out there. The PX carries heel snugs, moleskin, several different kinds of insoles, and boot socks. A ten dollar pair of socks, some moleskin, and insoles do wonders.
But did I actually do any of this before I put on my brand new pair of boots? No. Do I know better? Yes. Especially now that I have huge blisters on the backs of my heels to the point where I'm limping around. Stupid Techno.
Good thing that I stocked up on moleskin.
Pain - written on 24 August 2006
I don't think I ever updated on the outcome of my ongoing battle with the TMC.
I went in to get my medication and had a flare while standing in line. Not a good sign. So, I signed into sick call purgatory and sat for three hours waiting to be triaged. It was another hour before I saw a provider. (And that's not counting the time I waited to sign in outside or when the provider and I broke for lunch.) This entire time my pain level was anywhere between a 7 and a 9 out of 10, with 10 being the worst. Four hours of waiting while in pain.
When I finally did get into the provider, I broke it all down for her and gave her The Story Of My Shingles And Why It's So Bad Right Now. Which makes her the second or the third medical provider that knew less about this than I do. She scribbled a lot, checked in on the pharmacy and -- surprise, surprise -- the pharmacy doesn't have the medication that they were supposed to have ordered a few weeks prior. The order was just put in that day, after I came in with a complaint.
Fast forward two days. Pharmacy calls Top, who tells me that it's in, so I rush off to the pharmacy to get it. First there was a random Specialist manning the computer, who told me that it wasn't in the system. (Which is always the first answer, for one reason or another.) Then, they pull it out of the shipment, label it, bag it up, and give it to me. I ask if this was all the pharmacy had, only to be told that they will only give me one box at a time. Okay, that's fine, but one box is only a two week supply.
So yes, I got my medication, but it's technically not enough to last me through the rest of mobilization.
The girls are tired of hearing me complain about it, and several have asked why I didn't come to mobilization with this medication. Because it's $200 a box and I can't afford it. At home, aside from the income I get from the Army, I make minimum wage because I am still a student. And that's okay, for now. When I'm at home I don't need them as much as I need them here -- I'm not under the same kinds of stresses. I'm not carrying around a weapon, wearing body armor, nor am I separated from family and friends.
What's really difficult to explain to them is what living with pain day in and day out is like. A few get it, only because they do it too. Other people aren't sure what to say or do. All they hear is the times that I complain. They don't see the nights where I toss and turn, or the agony I feel even when we're relaxing. They see the patches on my leg. To them, that's all it is.
To me, this is life. And sometimes it's more pleasant than others. When I'm stressed out, I have a flare. When I'm hurt, I have a flare. When I'm PMSing, I have flares. When I eat certain foods, I have a flare. Pain management is just that -- managing the pain. This isn't going to go away anytime soon.
I just wish that I had more good days.
24 August 2006
Dear Fifi, I miss you.
While we were at the FOB, I got the following text message from Fifi:
Life here is a bit strange. You get into a rhythm of waking up early, doing whatever they tell you to do, and doing whatever it takes to get out of this place. Conversations between people of different units start with "Where are you going?" You learn to look for roadside bombs. I can't tell you how many times I've watched videos of people dying, bombs exploding. I've learned how to detain and search a person. They've told us not to trust anyone, not to have personal discussions or form bonds with third country contractors. People are afraid, and they don't understand -- and no amount of culture classes will help with that. Everyone is looking for the bad guy that may or may not exist, but we have to.
I've heard stories of the contractors learning and greeting soldiers by their first name when they come through for chow. MeuAmor does the same thing when people come through his register at the grocery store. It's good manners to him, making people feel welcome -- what's not to say that these contractors are doing the same? But what's to say that they're not selling information?
When it all comes down to it, we're afraid. We're out of our element, we're dealing with language barriers, we're interjecting ourselves into a culture not like our own. And as much as Mother Army tries to educate us about it, we're really only getting the tip of the iceberg. Mother Army says to treat others -- regardless of nationality -- with dignity and respect, but how can you instill that while teaching soldiers that everyone is a potential enemy?
Je ne comprends rien. Je ne suis qu'une soldate.
Dear Fifi, I miss you.
Good bye, good luck, miss you, email me soon. I will send pics asap. Love you. This is Fifi signing off.She left the following morning. It was quite a sobering thought, to think about her getting on a plane and leaving for a war zone. That she was no longer even in the same country as I was. And that I will be following her soon.
Life here is a bit strange. You get into a rhythm of waking up early, doing whatever they tell you to do, and doing whatever it takes to get out of this place. Conversations between people of different units start with "Where are you going?" You learn to look for roadside bombs. I can't tell you how many times I've watched videos of people dying, bombs exploding. I've learned how to detain and search a person. They've told us not to trust anyone, not to have personal discussions or form bonds with third country contractors. People are afraid, and they don't understand -- and no amount of culture classes will help with that. Everyone is looking for the bad guy that may or may not exist, but we have to.
I've heard stories of the contractors learning and greeting soldiers by their first name when they come through for chow. MeuAmor does the same thing when people come through his register at the grocery store. It's good manners to him, making people feel welcome -- what's not to say that these contractors are doing the same? But what's to say that they're not selling information?
When it all comes down to it, we're afraid. We're out of our element, we're dealing with language barriers, we're interjecting ourselves into a culture not like our own. And as much as Mother Army tries to educate us about it, we're really only getting the tip of the iceberg. Mother Army says to treat others -- regardless of nationality -- with dignity and respect, but how can you instill that while teaching soldiers that everyone is a potential enemy?
Je ne comprends rien. Je ne suis qu'une soldate.
Dear Fifi, I miss you.
Mother Army and Home
Mother Army decided that I needed to get my typhoid vaccination, which I technically wasn't due for another few months. Whatever -- it's a free typhoid shot on the Army, no matter how much it sucks. (Dear Right Arm, please stop hurting.) And I won't have to worry about getting one before I go to Brazil again.
We're starting to get into specialized classes, and since I'm not registered in any, I get to sit around the barracks and do a whole lot of nothing. I would do laundry, but I did mine yesterday. I would go to the PX, but I did that yesterday. I want to go to the gym or to the library, but no one wants to go with me. So going out isn't much of an option.
Such is life. I'll probably read, write, and play video games. Like normal. Too bad that there isn't any internet in the barracks.
*****
Now that I know that I have on-site service for my laptop, a whole laundry list of things that need to be done are coming to mind. Poor lappy sometimes does this whirl-click thing, and I'm not sure if it's the fan, the DVD drive or the hard drive. I'm also not too sure if it's done it since I had the motherboard replaced. I need rubber footies. There's a weird random warning message when I boot up, and I don't know if it's just because I'm not plugged into a network. (And I have no way of testing this theory, either.)
I'm really hoping that my hard drive is NOT failing. Yeah, I can back up my data, but I'm not sure if I have backups of some of my favorite programs.
And that whole not having unlimited access to broadband internet or to Fuzz is really putting a cramp in my style.
*****
I called Dragonette this morning, hoping to catch her after her dinner. That's probably the only good thing about having to wake up so early -- I can call Dragonette at a decent hour.
I don't even remember what I wanted anymore. Probably just girltalk.
However, I do find it amusing that no matter what language the "leave a message after the tone" recording is, there's always a tone, and you always know to leave a message.
MeuAmor and I talked last night about me possibly spending the holidays in Brazil after my deployment. He's still upset about some stupid shit that I've said and done, and has remained completely neutral on the subject. No, not neutral. More like apathetic. He said that he didn't want to get worked up about something that may or may not happen.
The problem isn't that I'm going to Brazil after my deployment -- I am. I'm going to go visit Amiga in Curitiba, I'm thinking about going to Rio de Janeiro, and I'm planning on spending quite some time with MeuAmor and his family. I just don't know if it's a really good idea to spend not one, but two years worth of Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years away from my family. Not just my parents but my aunts, uncles, cousins, and so on. Yeah, there is a time in everyone's life where they grow up and do stuff, but I know that my mom will be fairly resistant to the idea. And I might actually want to be home.
MeuAmor doesn't get it. And that's okay.
We're starting to get into specialized classes, and since I'm not registered in any, I get to sit around the barracks and do a whole lot of nothing. I would do laundry, but I did mine yesterday. I would go to the PX, but I did that yesterday. I want to go to the gym or to the library, but no one wants to go with me. So going out isn't much of an option.
Such is life. I'll probably read, write, and play video games. Like normal. Too bad that there isn't any internet in the barracks.
*****
Now that I know that I have on-site service for my laptop, a whole laundry list of things that need to be done are coming to mind. Poor lappy sometimes does this whirl-click thing, and I'm not sure if it's the fan, the DVD drive or the hard drive. I'm also not too sure if it's done it since I had the motherboard replaced. I need rubber footies. There's a weird random warning message when I boot up, and I don't know if it's just because I'm not plugged into a network. (And I have no way of testing this theory, either.)
I'm really hoping that my hard drive is NOT failing. Yeah, I can back up my data, but I'm not sure if I have backups of some of my favorite programs.
And that whole not having unlimited access to broadband internet or to Fuzz is really putting a cramp in my style.
*****
I called Dragonette this morning, hoping to catch her after her dinner. That's probably the only good thing about having to wake up so early -- I can call Dragonette at a decent hour.
I don't even remember what I wanted anymore. Probably just girltalk.
However, I do find it amusing that no matter what language the "leave a message after the tone" recording is, there's always a tone, and you always know to leave a message.
*****
MeuAmor and I talked last night about me possibly spending the holidays in Brazil after my deployment. He's still upset about some stupid shit that I've said and done, and has remained completely neutral on the subject. No, not neutral. More like apathetic. He said that he didn't want to get worked up about something that may or may not happen.
The problem isn't that I'm going to Brazil after my deployment -- I am. I'm going to go visit Amiga in Curitiba, I'm thinking about going to Rio de Janeiro, and I'm planning on spending quite some time with MeuAmor and his family. I just don't know if it's a really good idea to spend not one, but two years worth of Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years away from my family. Not just my parents but my aunts, uncles, cousins, and so on. Yeah, there is a time in everyone's life where they grow up and do stuff, but I know that my mom will be fairly resistant to the idea. And I might actually want to be home.
MeuAmor doesn't get it. And that's okay.
23 August 2006
still alive -- LIVE
Survived the FOB, I qualified on my M16, and all is mostly well.
Sorry, I had more to say but I'm a little pressed for time.
Ate mais, I promise!
Sorry, I had more to say but I'm a little pressed for time.
Ate mais, I promise!
13 August 2006
going out to the FOB, for real
Today we leave for the FOB. I want it over as soon as possible.
Seriously, would you like to live with forty-some other stinky people?
Yeah, I thought so.
Seriously, would you like to live with forty-some other stinky people?
Yeah, I thought so.
written on 12 August 2006
Medic: Is Techno eating yogurt?
Techno: Yes I am!
Medic: Ahahaha... Yeast infection!! Yeast infection!!
Techno: From what?
Medic: Yeast!
Techno: Yeah, but from what? All the vigorous sex I'm not having?StuffedShirt: And thank goodness for that!
Silly boys. I just like yogurt. And that was part of my dinner!
*****
Disclaimer: The following is my disgruntled rant specifically about my situation with my chain of command and lack of medical treatment. I cannot attest to how other soldiers are treated at this mobilization station, at other mobilization stations, in theatre or anywhere else. The medication to which I refer to is not very common as it treats very specific conditions (shingles, PHN), is sometimes hard to get, is very expensive ($7 a patch, box of thirty patches, you do the math), and is not carried by all pharmacies -- which I've known and tried to convey to my chain of command. This is me blowing off steam, this is only a rant, I repeat, only a rant.
In the course of a few minutes "I'm running low on patches, I won't have enough for the FOB, and I need to go off post to get them" turns into "Why did you wait until the last minute blablablah, why didn't you go to sick call this morning to get them blablablah, it's a big inconvience to take you off post blablablah"
From my platoon sergeant. Yeah. Way to take care of your troops, Sarge. Way to talk to people, Sarge. What a fuckhead. Dude, you won't even be the one to take me off post -- our UA takes care of that and he's cool with it. Now, if you would even listen to me when I was talking to you, you would understand why I didn't go to sick call and why I have to go off post to get them. If you knew your troops, you would know exactly why it is very important to have a supply of them.
Otherwise you will be taking me to the fucking TMC only for them to tell me that they don't have them for one reason or another and that I have to go off post, where I already have a standing perscription. Go right ahead, waste your time and mine!
Sometimes, I hate the Army sense of logic. This is one of those times.
And despite from all the venting I've done to anyone who will listen, I am still stressed out about it, and as we all know by now: stress = flare.
I'd love to see what would happen out in the FOB if I had a flare and had no patches. Oh yes, I'd love to see what they'd do then. Send me to the TMC to wait in agony for a doctor to tell me something I already knew? Riiiight. Preventive medicine, people!
[/rant]
*****
After the close call yesterday of EnglishProf going to TMC and me sitting out at the FOB wondering whether or not she'll go with us, she's going with us. Her ankle has been healing up well, Hipster has been helping her with her exercises, and she's in better spirits in general. Which is all very good. All signs are pointing to her going with us.
She told me that Hipster was actually doing badly in training because he was so preoccupied with her and her situation. He never says much, but I can tell that he really cares about her.
The boys make fun of him because he's always over here, but none of us care.
*****
I'm still thinking of what to write in reply to my cousin's letter. What am I learning here? How to walk around feeling like some bizarre lab experiment gone wrong -- part turtle, part hamster, part duck? How much I suck at throwing grenades? How to live with other people, with little to no privacy? How to make ranger pudding? How to smile even when my day sucks? How to deal with other people that have no people skills and no consideration for others?
I don't know. I'll find something, I'm sure.
*****
Quero me encontrar, mas não sei onde estou
Vem comigo procurar algum lugar mais calmo
Longe dessa confusão e dessa gente que não se respeita
Tenho quase certeza que eu não sou daqui
I want to find myself, but I don't know where I am
Come with me to find somewhere calmer
Far from this confusion and these people who don't respect each other
I am almost certain that I am not from here
("Meninos e Meninas" - Legião Urbana)
*****
Blondie has been long gone, Sweetheart and the artillary boys are gone, Fifi leaves soon, and I just want out of this place.
The sooner I get out of this place, the sooner I can go to Hong Kong and Japan, the sooner I can go home, and the sooner I can go to Brasil.
I want a hammock, impromptu Portuguese lessons, and a cool glass of guaraná. I want green tea ice cream, a sky full of buildings, girltalk about boys, love, life, everything. I want late nights at the truck stop, pierogi, to chase after little boys.
Validation, please come soon.
Techno: Yes I am!
Medic: Ahahaha... Yeast infection!! Yeast infection!!
Techno: From what?
Medic: Yeast!
Techno: Yeah, but from what? All the vigorous sex I'm not having?StuffedShirt: And thank goodness for that!
Silly boys. I just like yogurt. And that was part of my dinner!
*****
Disclaimer: The following is my disgruntled rant specifically about my situation with my chain of command and lack of medical treatment. I cannot attest to how other soldiers are treated at this mobilization station, at other mobilization stations, in theatre or anywhere else. The medication to which I refer to is not very common as it treats very specific conditions (shingles, PHN), is sometimes hard to get, is very expensive ($7 a patch, box of thirty patches, you do the math), and is not carried by all pharmacies -- which I've known and tried to convey to my chain of command. This is me blowing off steam, this is only a rant, I repeat, only a rant.
In the course of a few minutes "I'm running low on patches, I won't have enough for the FOB, and I need to go off post to get them" turns into "Why did you wait until the last minute blablablah, why didn't you go to sick call this morning to get them blablablah, it's a big inconvience to take you off post blablablah"
From my platoon sergeant. Yeah. Way to take care of your troops, Sarge. Way to talk to people, Sarge. What a fuckhead. Dude, you won't even be the one to take me off post -- our UA takes care of that and he's cool with it. Now, if you would even listen to me when I was talking to you, you would understand why I didn't go to sick call and why I have to go off post to get them. If you knew your troops, you would know exactly why it is very important to have a supply of them.
Otherwise you will be taking me to the fucking TMC only for them to tell me that they don't have them for one reason or another and that I have to go off post, where I already have a standing perscription. Go right ahead, waste your time and mine!
Sometimes, I hate the Army sense of logic. This is one of those times.
And despite from all the venting I've done to anyone who will listen, I am still stressed out about it, and as we all know by now: stress = flare.
I'd love to see what would happen out in the FOB if I had a flare and had no patches. Oh yes, I'd love to see what they'd do then. Send me to the TMC to wait in agony for a doctor to tell me something I already knew? Riiiight. Preventive medicine, people!
[/rant]
*****
After the close call yesterday of EnglishProf going to TMC and me sitting out at the FOB wondering whether or not she'll go with us, she's going with us. Her ankle has been healing up well, Hipster has been helping her with her exercises, and she's in better spirits in general. Which is all very good. All signs are pointing to her going with us.
She told me that Hipster was actually doing badly in training because he was so preoccupied with her and her situation. He never says much, but I can tell that he really cares about her.
The boys make fun of him because he's always over here, but none of us care.
*****
I'm still thinking of what to write in reply to my cousin's letter. What am I learning here? How to walk around feeling like some bizarre lab experiment gone wrong -- part turtle, part hamster, part duck? How much I suck at throwing grenades? How to live with other people, with little to no privacy? How to make ranger pudding? How to smile even when my day sucks? How to deal with other people that have no people skills and no consideration for others?
I don't know. I'll find something, I'm sure.
*****
Quero me encontrar, mas não sei onde estou
Vem comigo procurar algum lugar mais calmo
Longe dessa confusão e dessa gente que não se respeita
Tenho quase certeza que eu não sou daqui
I want to find myself, but I don't know where I am
Come with me to find somewhere calmer
Far from this confusion and these people who don't respect each other
I am almost certain that I am not from here
("Meninos e Meninas" - Legião Urbana)
*****
Blondie has been long gone, Sweetheart and the artillary boys are gone, Fifi leaves soon, and I just want out of this place.
The sooner I get out of this place, the sooner I can go to Hong Kong and Japan, the sooner I can go home, and the sooner I can go to Brasil.
I want a hammock, impromptu Portuguese lessons, and a cool glass of guaraná. I want green tea ice cream, a sky full of buildings, girltalk about boys, love, life, everything. I want late nights at the truck stop, pierogi, to chase after little boys.
Validation, please come soon.
11 August 2006
yet another quickie
This weekend we move out into the FOB. Don't be alarmed if I don't update for like a month. I have to go do real Army stuff, as much as that kind of sucks.
But at least it makes for cool pictures!
But at least it makes for cool pictures!
written on 10 August 2006
Hipster is over again, visiting EnglishProf. He's much better at cheering her up than I am. But apparently I'm more convincing to the chow hall staff when we ask for a hot plate to bring back to her. There are just too many steps on this post.
Tomorrow is our first day in the FOB. We're only going for training, but later this week we'll be out in the field full-time for awhile. Don't expect any updates for a long time. I still haven't decided if I'm going to take my laptop -- it's heavy, it needs charged often, and we're not supposed to have a lot of free time. And really, we'll be in field conditions. I'd rather keep all of the gunk out of my laptop. We'll see.
I'm really not sure how I feel about all the time that we're supposed to be out in the FOB. A lot of this training won't apply to what we'll be doing in country, and none of the culture training is geared to what we need. And the living/chow conditions definitely won't apply. Please, just teach me how to do my job. My job does not involve hand grenades -- please show me the paperwork and regulations that I need to familiarize myself with. And pass the lobster, please.
*****
Chica brought her camera and thumbdrive down so I could transfer pictures for her. We discovered some of the reclass school pictures, but what looks like those from Memorial Day and after. Twig and Pablo, the admin girls out at the club, the cookout, and Jazzman's birthday cake.
There are times when I kick myself for complaining about school.
*****
Fifi is getting ready to move out. I thought she was gone already, but I got lucky with my email. Her daughter -- the pregnant one -- is upset with her, saying that she was a bad mom and that she was never there for her and blablablah which, understandably, has made Fifi really upset. I hear it in her voice every time I call. It's been the same tone since we all left school.
I worry about her. I miss her.
*****
There's a concert in the process that we're not allowed to go to or even be seen around. We can't even look at that part of post. Something about not wanting to give a bad impression. Which is good in a way, because we had to be back at the barracks way earlier than normal and stay here for the rest of the night. It could be worse. Another early night for another early morning. If I can sleep through the freakin' bass drum. I may have to close some windows.
There's another this weekend. I mean, I know the base needs money, but having concerts at a training installation where the soldiers themselves are not allowed to go to the concerts and where their sleep is disrupted by the noise is a little annoying.
I think I may be taking pictures and otherwise documenting this stuff, because this place is seriously ate up. Where is all of the money going? Why are there soldiers sleeping in asbestous-filled barracks from World War 2?
*****
My pain management plan hasn't been working out well. I'm eating foods that I know that I shouldn't be eating, I'm wearing my patches during the day (rather than at night), and I am really struggling to keep my stress level down. Probably because I'm not sure if it's physical or mental stress. Sometimes it's hard to tell.
It's still managable, but sometimes I wonder if I'll still be able to keep it all under control.
But at least the Chaplain told me that I'm perfectly normal.
*****
My cousins sent me some mail -- the envelope was covered in stickers from the movie Cars. I officially have my first little kid scribble drawing. Too bad that I don't have a place to hang it up. The eldest wrote, asking if I'm having fun and what am I learning and stuff like that. Now the challange is to think about what I've actually learned (what have I learned, again?) and put it into terms that he can understand. Without using scary words like war or death.
But still! Little kid scribbles!!
Tomorrow is our first day in the FOB. We're only going for training, but later this week we'll be out in the field full-time for awhile. Don't expect any updates for a long time. I still haven't decided if I'm going to take my laptop -- it's heavy, it needs charged often, and we're not supposed to have a lot of free time. And really, we'll be in field conditions. I'd rather keep all of the gunk out of my laptop. We'll see.
I'm really not sure how I feel about all the time that we're supposed to be out in the FOB. A lot of this training won't apply to what we'll be doing in country, and none of the culture training is geared to what we need. And the living/chow conditions definitely won't apply. Please, just teach me how to do my job. My job does not involve hand grenades -- please show me the paperwork and regulations that I need to familiarize myself with. And pass the lobster, please.
*****
Chica brought her camera and thumbdrive down so I could transfer pictures for her. We discovered some of the reclass school pictures, but what looks like those from Memorial Day and after. Twig and Pablo, the admin girls out at the club, the cookout, and Jazzman's birthday cake.
There are times when I kick myself for complaining about school.
*****
Fifi is getting ready to move out. I thought she was gone already, but I got lucky with my email. Her daughter -- the pregnant one -- is upset with her, saying that she was a bad mom and that she was never there for her and blablablah which, understandably, has made Fifi really upset. I hear it in her voice every time I call. It's been the same tone since we all left school.
I worry about her. I miss her.
*****
There's a concert in the process that we're not allowed to go to or even be seen around. We can't even look at that part of post. Something about not wanting to give a bad impression. Which is good in a way, because we had to be back at the barracks way earlier than normal and stay here for the rest of the night. It could be worse. Another early night for another early morning. If I can sleep through the freakin' bass drum. I may have to close some windows.
There's another this weekend. I mean, I know the base needs money, but having concerts at a training installation where the soldiers themselves are not allowed to go to the concerts and where their sleep is disrupted by the noise is a little annoying.
I think I may be taking pictures and otherwise documenting this stuff, because this place is seriously ate up. Where is all of the money going? Why are there soldiers sleeping in asbestous-filled barracks from World War 2?
*****
My pain management plan hasn't been working out well. I'm eating foods that I know that I shouldn't be eating, I'm wearing my patches during the day (rather than at night), and I am really struggling to keep my stress level down. Probably because I'm not sure if it's physical or mental stress. Sometimes it's hard to tell.
It's still managable, but sometimes I wonder if I'll still be able to keep it all under control.
But at least the Chaplain told me that I'm perfectly normal.
*****
My cousins sent me some mail -- the envelope was covered in stickers from the movie Cars. I officially have my first little kid scribble drawing. Too bad that I don't have a place to hang it up. The eldest wrote, asking if I'm having fun and what am I learning and stuff like that. Now the challange is to think about what I've actually learned (what have I learned, again?) and put it into terms that he can understand. Without using scary words like war or death.
But still! Little kid scribbles!!
09 August 2006
hug -- August 8
I don't even know where to start.
Yesterday was another bad day. Is it because everything is finally sinking in? Is it because it's been a year exactly since I've visited MeuAmor and his family? Is it because I'm PMSing and I don't realize it?
I don't know. It could be anything.
The day started off with the slowest PAP smear I've ever had and ended with me moving both my own bedding and EnglishProf's bedding to the downstairs bay while waiting for them to bring EnglishProf back from the hospital. Long day, no matter how you look at it.
My coach pulled me off the firing line. I didn't qualify. Five full magazines were returned to the ammo point. It's a long story that I don't feel like telling, and every time I tell someone it just sounds more and more stupid. But it's not stupid, I'm not the only person that has had that kind of reaction, and I know that.
EnglishProf's story is shorter. She was coming off the firing line after night fire, felt sleepy, and slipped down the wooden stairs -- weapon, helmet, body armor and all. They took her away in an ambulance. She came back on crutches and with an air cast. We set up camp in the lower bay, where there's a handicap-accessible bathroom and showers. It's only the two of us.
Her boyfriend is visiting now, which is hopefully lifting her spirits. I'm trying to sit on my bunk and be invisible. All I can hear is the sound of their voices as they talk to each other. I like him, and I'm happy for her. Especially since he is able to be here with her right now.
I still want that hug.
a lua me chama -- August 4
"A lua me chama, chama..."
I looked up at the stars last night and immediately picked out the Big Dipper, or rather, Ursa Major in the sky between barracks. I was surprised at how big it was, and realized that this was a sign that I had seen it one too many times on the dome at work if I really thought it was a small constellation. My summer night sky constellation finding-skills suck, and I don't have my constellation book with me.
I've also been watching the moon go through it's phases, noting both it's position in the sky and the position of the sun in respect to the moon. I should be logging this stuff somewhere, but I'm trying to figure it out in my head in the meantime. Did you know that the only way that the Earth goes through phases when viewed from the moon was if you were to actually get up and move? Yeah, I thought it was pretty interesting too.
Too bad that the base I'll be on will probably have light pollution problems. Otherwise it'd be an awesome sky to look up at.
*****
Written by MeuAmor roughly a year ago: Oi amor, estou escrevendo isto aqui pra você para lhe dizer que sinto muito sua falta quando você não está, sinto muito sua falta quando eu tenho aquelas noites em que estamos pensando um no outro e não estamos perto... Você sabe, eu estou pensando muito em você mas isto não tem como ficar melhor, você e tudo de bom que um homem poderia querer, então não se esqueca nunca que eu te amo muito e que eu nunca vou te deixar sozinha, não importa o problema que você tenha!! I love you baby!!!! *smwah*
*****
I don't know. I think I need more sleep.
written on August 4
Road march #2 in the morning. I'm absolutely exhausted, so I stayed home from the library tonight to get ready for the march and go to bed early. I'm all moleskinned, taped, and loaded up for the march tomorrow which is definitely a good sign.
Since I'm on the Profile of Doom I can't march and carry a load of 48 pounds. So instead of wearing all of my gear tomorrow morning, I'm only wearing part of it. The heavist, most constricting part of it: my body armor. Chica said that even if I need to take it off in the middle of the march that I'll at least have started to acclimate myself to it. Honestly, I'm not sure if I can go for three miles with all of that extra weight. No other choice, though. Drive on, soldier, drive on.
Getting ready for a road march is always interesting. And it's so different for everyone. I'm considered a heat casualty and all of my gear is marked with red so that I stand out in a group of soldiers. That was taken care of days ago and I haven't messed with it since. But it does mean that my Camelback is filled with sports drink diluted in water. I also carry a few snacks to eat in a cargo pocket on my person. (We don't eat breakfast until after the march.) And then, my feet. Oh my goodness, my feet. Moleskin and toe seperators galore. I've been taping the moleskin down to make it stay in place. Sometimes I remember foot powder, sometimes I don't. Luckily the boots I'm wearing are already broken in and have civilian insoles in them, so they're a bit more comfortable. I haven't figured out what I'm going to do for my knee in the morning -- maybe some of the miracle green goo. The other leg -- you know, the one affected by shingles and PHN -- already has licodaine patches on it, taped down, naturally. In the morning, I'll put my hair up and then pull on my uniform, boots, and body armor and roll out the door.
And then walk for forever and a half. Nothing to it, really!
It should be fine. Just another BS thing to get through before leaving this place.
03 August 2006
quick update
I totally made the First Sergeant's computer my bitch and am in the process of making a database to make everyone's lives much easier. We were inputting soldier data in Excel, but each soldier was saved as a seperate Excel file. Seriously, I was inputting in Excel like a good (dumb) soldier and was just shuddering. It took me about an hour to set up the database without sketching it out beforehand.
Afterwards, the First Sergeant let me know through the wonderful chain of command that he wants me to show him how to use it. So I scored brownie points, majorly.
Sweetheart emailed. He's alright, just super busy. Which I can definitely understand. Just worry when I don't hear from him for days on end and then hear about an attack on his group.
This will be a part of life for awhile.
It's been a year since I've seen MeuAmor and his family. It feels so much more longer than that.
Can I get on the plane to Hong Kong now?
Afterwards, the First Sergeant let me know through the wonderful chain of command that he wants me to show him how to use it. So I scored brownie points, majorly.
*****
Sweetheart emailed. He's alright, just super busy. Which I can definitely understand. Just worry when I don't hear from him for days on end and then hear about an attack on his group.
This will be a part of life for awhile.
*****
It's been a year since I've seen MeuAmor and his family. It feels so much more longer than that.
Can I get on the plane to Hong Kong now?
just another number
I called a very confused MeuAmor last night, who was out with friends. I heard all of them in the background chatting animatedly in Portuguese, with his voice floating on top, speaking in English to me. Too bad our barracks is the black hole of cell phone reception -- he didn't understand what I was saying. When he asked me this morning, I had lost the words in Portuguese and was too embarassed to say them in English. I still owe him an explanation.
In the van today, LittleBit asked if I was okay and told me that if I wanted to talk about anything I could. I know that she's trying to help out, I know that she'll keep certain things to herself, but there are some things that she just doesn't need to know. I'd much rather talk to Nerd or EnglishProf or Fifi about them anyways. Not like I really have any pressing issues -- I'm tired, I'm hurt, I'm lonely, and I really just want a hug.
I mean, I even thought about walking up to JazzMan or Fratboy today and asking one of them. But I was too worried about being called out on fraternization. So I won't do it and I won't ask.
Look, it was just a bad day.
*****
And, the daily pox update: the big white blister has started to ooze. It's kind of gross looking. We're all walking around the barracks with one sleeve rolled up and our pox exposed to the world. All in the name of trying to air it out.
Yesterday, when we had a drug test at o'dark-thirty in the morning, our acting first sergent was walking around with his exposed telling everyone "I'm airing my pox out" and "don't make me rub my pox on you!" Only at o'dark-thirty, pox doesn't sound like pox at all. I'll let you figure that one out.
That's just as bad me saying "small girl, big cot" in a supply room full of dirty old men.
*****
Another lazy day today. We went to get our first issue for this deployment. A set of DCU gortex wet weather gear, a pair of desert boots, several polypro sets (are we really going to need these in the desert??), and body armor. Which means that I now offically have something with each of the three camo patterns in use by the Army today. Most of my stuff is still the "traditional" woodland green pattern, but we're slowly transitioning away from that. Hopefully our next issue will include our new universal pattern uniforms.
That body armor, though. Wow. Just wow. It's very heavy. There is actually a handle just behind the neck. I'm not sure why it's there -- if it's just to carry the armor or to help move people/bodies around -- but whoever put it there is a freaking genius. All of my other gear will go over the body armor. Talk about heavy.
*****
Days like this are days where I just really feel like a toy soldier. Pull me out of my bunk early in the morning, make sure I eat breakfast, stand me in line to play the hurry up and wait game, have me do my job, and then put me back in my bunk when The Man is too busy. Pull me back out of my bunk when we can all do something productive. Repeat as needed.
When you look around on this post, you see blocks and blocks of barracks. Barracks that all hold bunks that hold soldiers. Like boxes of toys.
It's so easy to feel like just another number here.
In the van today, LittleBit asked if I was okay and told me that if I wanted to talk about anything I could. I know that she's trying to help out, I know that she'll keep certain things to herself, but there are some things that she just doesn't need to know. I'd much rather talk to Nerd or EnglishProf or Fifi about them anyways. Not like I really have any pressing issues -- I'm tired, I'm hurt, I'm lonely, and I really just want a hug.
I mean, I even thought about walking up to JazzMan or Fratboy today and asking one of them. But I was too worried about being called out on fraternization. So I won't do it and I won't ask.
Look, it was just a bad day.
*****
And, the daily pox update: the big white blister has started to ooze. It's kind of gross looking. We're all walking around the barracks with one sleeve rolled up and our pox exposed to the world. All in the name of trying to air it out.
Yesterday, when we had a drug test at o'dark-thirty in the morning, our acting first sergent was walking around with his exposed telling everyone "I'm airing my pox out" and "don't make me rub my pox on you!" Only at o'dark-thirty, pox doesn't sound like pox at all. I'll let you figure that one out.
That's just as bad me saying "small girl, big cot" in a supply room full of dirty old men.
*****
Another lazy day today. We went to get our first issue for this deployment. A set of DCU gortex wet weather gear, a pair of desert boots, several polypro sets (are we really going to need these in the desert??), and body armor. Which means that I now offically have something with each of the three camo patterns in use by the Army today. Most of my stuff is still the "traditional" woodland green pattern, but we're slowly transitioning away from that. Hopefully our next issue will include our new universal pattern uniforms.
That body armor, though. Wow. Just wow. It's very heavy. There is actually a handle just behind the neck. I'm not sure why it's there -- if it's just to carry the armor or to help move people/bodies around -- but whoever put it there is a freaking genius. All of my other gear will go over the body armor. Talk about heavy.
*****
Days like this are days where I just really feel like a toy soldier. Pull me out of my bunk early in the morning, make sure I eat breakfast, stand me in line to play the hurry up and wait game, have me do my job, and then put me back in my bunk when The Man is too busy. Pull me back out of my bunk when we can all do something productive. Repeat as needed.
When you look around on this post, you see blocks and blocks of barracks. Barracks that all hold bunks that hold soldiers. Like boxes of toys.
It's so easy to feel like just another number here.
02 August 2006
bad day -- LIVE
I'm having a bad day. And not for any real reason, either. I don't have problems at home, I'm getting paid okay, and I have a good support structure both here and at home.
I did have a flare today, my knee hurts from yesterday, no one got much sleep, and I've felt like a little toy soldierette all day. Maybe I just need sleep.
I want to be held, to be touched, to be told that everything is going to be okay and that I'll get through this alright. I want to be told that I'll be safe from both friendly and opposing forces while I'm overseas. I want to stop wondering if I got on the wrong plane.
Today I really wanted to be in Brazil. I thought about calling MeuAmor's house just to talk to his sister, to say "Eu não estou bem hoje e eu não sei por que. Eu quero estar ai, em Brasil, com vocês. Eu quero comer os churros e os chokitos, eu quero beber guaraná. Hoje, eu não quero estar aqui, eu não gosto desse lugar..."
I just need to remember that everyone has their bad days. That this will hit everyone at some point or another, and that we'll all deal with it differently. That this too shall pass.
Today was wasted in the TMC so I could have a doctor look at my knee. I kid you not, I was there from 0830 to 1530 -- most of that spent waiting for my turn. The good point is that my doc is absolutely awesome and remembered me from my last visit. The bad point is that I'm on profile for two weeks, which means no running, no jumping, no ruck marches, no alternate aerobic physical fitness test requirement. And while I feel really bad about that, I know that I did the right thing by going in.
The boys teased me, of course. I'm trying to not let it get to me, but I did have to tell a few of them to shut up and leave me alone. That whole bad day thing kicking in.
*****
This morning, I called Bossman just as PhysicsGeek walked in the door. So I got to talk to both of them, which was very nice. I'm missing them and missing work and missing everything normal right now. Plus, Bossman is just awesome as both a friend and a boss.
I'm crossing all of my fingers and toes that his plane will be fixed by the time I get leave (if I get leave). I'd love to go for a ride, if he'd take me.
I so need a break. Or mail. Take your pick.
I did have a flare today, my knee hurts from yesterday, no one got much sleep, and I've felt like a little toy soldierette all day. Maybe I just need sleep.
I want to be held, to be touched, to be told that everything is going to be okay and that I'll get through this alright. I want to be told that I'll be safe from both friendly and opposing forces while I'm overseas. I want to stop wondering if I got on the wrong plane.
Today I really wanted to be in Brazil. I thought about calling MeuAmor's house just to talk to his sister, to say "Eu não estou bem hoje e eu não sei por que. Eu quero estar ai, em Brasil, com vocês. Eu quero comer os churros e os chokitos, eu quero beber guaraná. Hoje, eu não quero estar aqui, eu não gosto desse lugar..."
I just need to remember that everyone has their bad days. That this will hit everyone at some point or another, and that we'll all deal with it differently. That this too shall pass.
*****
Today was wasted in the TMC so I could have a doctor look at my knee. I kid you not, I was there from 0830 to 1530 -- most of that spent waiting for my turn. The good point is that my doc is absolutely awesome and remembered me from my last visit. The bad point is that I'm on profile for two weeks, which means no running, no jumping, no ruck marches, no alternate aerobic physical fitness test requirement. And while I feel really bad about that, I know that I did the right thing by going in.
The boys teased me, of course. I'm trying to not let it get to me, but I did have to tell a few of them to shut up and leave me alone. That whole bad day thing kicking in.
*****
This morning, I called Bossman just as PhysicsGeek walked in the door. So I got to talk to both of them, which was very nice. I'm missing them and missing work and missing everything normal right now. Plus, Bossman is just awesome as both a friend and a boss.
I'm crossing all of my fingers and toes that his plane will be fixed by the time I get leave (if I get leave). I'd love to go for a ride, if he'd take me.
I so need a break. Or mail. Take your pick.
01 August 2006
oops -- LIVE
"Hey Techno, watch out for that ditch!!"
Yeah.... I got so excited that the Dell guy was here to replace my motherboard that I tripped crossing a ditch that I probably cross twenty times a day, sending my Kelvar helmet rolling across the road and putting me about eye level with a government van that was probably not even 100 meters down the road. Talk about scary.
The good part is that I only scraped up my knee and thumb. Nothing else was broken or torn. Yay me!
The bad part is that I will forever be teased. FOREVER.
On the other hand, when I did battle drills today, I hit the ground so hard that both my helmet and glasses fell off. But at least I didn't hurt myself.
And just in case you were wondering, yes, my laptop is all happy now. We're going to celebrate by playing WarCraft, naturally.
*****
Smallpox bandage got changed and it's a big white blister that I really want to pop. It itches like crazy -- probably just as bad as my shingles itched. And that was not pleasant at all. At least this is only on my arm.
We're supposed to change the bandage everyday, and throw the used bandaids in a biohazard bag. Highly contagious stuff. Kinda gross and scary. And we're all living in close quarters... and the Army is all like "eh, whatever!"
Uhh... Okay then. Good thing the Army is not supposed to make sense.
Some serious shit happened to the artillary boys. I don't know if Sweetheart was affected, he hasn't emailed. Twig mentioned it either this morning or last night, I can't remember. Just hope that each and every one of them is okay.
The news is hard to watch when you know someone that goes in and out of the wire everyday. He says it's his job, to not worry, but, I do.
Yeah.... I got so excited that the Dell guy was here to replace my motherboard that I tripped crossing a ditch that I probably cross twenty times a day, sending my Kelvar helmet rolling across the road and putting me about eye level with a government van that was probably not even 100 meters down the road. Talk about scary.
The good part is that I only scraped up my knee and thumb. Nothing else was broken or torn. Yay me!
The bad part is that I will forever be teased. FOREVER.
On the other hand, when I did battle drills today, I hit the ground so hard that both my helmet and glasses fell off. But at least I didn't hurt myself.
And just in case you were wondering, yes, my laptop is all happy now. We're going to celebrate by playing WarCraft, naturally.
*****
Smallpox bandage got changed and it's a big white blister that I really want to pop. It itches like crazy -- probably just as bad as my shingles itched. And that was not pleasant at all. At least this is only on my arm.
We're supposed to change the bandage everyday, and throw the used bandaids in a biohazard bag. Highly contagious stuff. Kinda gross and scary. And we're all living in close quarters... and the Army is all like "eh, whatever!"
Uhh... Okay then. Good thing the Army is not supposed to make sense.
*****
Some serious shit happened to the artillary boys. I don't know if Sweetheart was affected, he hasn't emailed. Twig mentioned it either this morning or last night, I can't remember. Just hope that each and every one of them is okay.
The news is hard to watch when you know someone that goes in and out of the wire everyday. He says it's his job, to not worry, but, I do.
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