an end to an era?

I walked into the office this morning, and I heard a voice exclaim "Turn the news on -- Saddam is dead!"

Today, the beginning of Eid Al-Adha, Saddam Hussein was hung.

for the record...

This is more of my reaction to the WP article than anything, just so you're forewarned. Most of you (because I know that people are out there, even if I am in denial) that have been reading know that MeuExAmor and I broke up all the way back in early October. The rest of you, finding your way here from either the article or Milblogging, don't necessarily know that. Which definitely is not how I was represented in the article, giving the appearance that I am using this deployment to help me heal from the end of the relationship.

If anything, I saw the end of the relationship coming. I realized this on more than one occasion during reclassification school several months ago -- I even decided on the plane home that it was over -- but I don't think I was quite ready to call it quits, for one reason or another. And it's not that I am or was afraid or didn't want to be alone. I went on a dinner date with InfantryMedic, I spent time at the club with Sweetheart, and I have had several eye-opening conversations with Lucky.

This deployment wasn't meant for me to heal. That was never my intention. I volunteered out of a sense of duty, the need (and want) to give myself a step up in this world, the dream of studying in Paris, and to actually have money in the bank rather than living off of the menial income I have when I'm a student. For the years that I have been in the band, I have sat in the back of auditoriums and watched the deployment ceremonies for other soldiers in my state so many times that I've lost count. And in the process, I became desensitized to it all. Having the band -- my band, my unit -- at my deployment ceremony was rather surreal. I was given the opportunity to be at the front of the auditorium rather than in the back, and I took it along with everything that came with it.

Do I regret making that decision? No, not one bit, even though it was a very difficult one to make. Do I regret cancelling my trip to Brazil? Yes. I was looking forward to spending time with MeuExAmor and his family, no matter how bad the romantic relationship was. Do I miss my family and friends? Of course! Do I miss university? Surprisingly, yes. That place has been the center of my universe for the past two years. Do I miss my civilian job at the planetarium? You have no idea, and there is no way for me to really describe what that place and the people associated with it mean to me.

Really, this is more like the going-away-to-college experience that I never had. I'm completely out of my element and away from everything that is near and dear to me. Only I'm not getting crazy at a frat party nor am I skipping classes. So aside from all of the schoolwork and studying I'm not doing, the emotional bit of "being away at college" is very true to this situation. It really has made me learn what things are truly important to me and what kind of people that I want to surround myself with. And if that's the only thing I get out of this deployment, I'm okay with that.

distant memory

I ran into one of my former classmates today, who is occasionally in my building as part of his official duties. He asked about my Christmas, and I told him that it was different. Holidays here are pretty much an open and shut case. At home, it's a whole other story. There are still gatherings going on there, for better or worse. The decorations probably won't come down until after the new year.

Christmas is quickly becoming a distant memory here.

"Their Christmas at War"

Their Christmas At War
By David Ignatius
Friday, December 22, 2006; Page A33

Thanks to a military blogger who calls himself "Blackfive" ("The Paratrooper of Love"), we have a snapshot of what Christmas looks like this year at Camp Taji, 20 miles north of Baghdad. It's a man dressed up in a Santa Claus suit, standing behind a "sleigh" that is actually an unmanned aerial vehicle and six soldiers who are wearing antlers and perched precariously on the launch ramp.

Or we can read this Christmas message posted Dec. 21 from "Lt. Col. Patrick," an Air Force C-130 pilot. Next to a picture, taken at his base, of a Christmas tree decorated with festive lights, he writes: "Holiday deployments are difficult but the one characteristic that comes from being away from home at this time of year is that everyone else misses home too. You don't hear people actually complain about missing Christmas at home I think because we're all in it together." Misery may love company, but in the military, it keeps its mouth shut.

This holiday season, America is struggling through a searing national debate about Iraq. The horror of the war feels immediate, even to people who've never been near Baghdad, but less so the humanity of the thousands of American soldiers who are serving there. That's part of the Iraq disconnect: The war dominates our political life, but the men and women in the midst of it often are nearly invisible. We see them in thumbnail photos in group obituaries but not as real, living people.

If you read soldiers' blogs, and I've looked at several dozen over the past few days, you see a recurring anger that the media aren't telling their story. So I'll let a few of the military bloggers speak for themselves. If you want to share in the conversation, a good place to start is http://milblogging.com/, which collects blogs from soldiers deployed in Iraq, Afghanistan and around the world.

Needless to say, the first thing most American soldiers are thinking about is getting back home. They wait for a magic acronym: RIP/TOA, which means: "Relief in Place/Transfer of Authority." In his blog, "Duty in the Desert," Lt. Col. Patrick writes: "You can easily tell the folks that have been here awhile from the newer arrivals. New guys tell you how they're doing and what they're feeling. The old heads, deployed longer, start off every sentence with how many days remaining in their tour."

A young woman who calls herself "Techno" has a small Christmas tree at the foot of her bed. She explains in her blog that she broke up with her boyfriend before joining the Army and coming to Iraq. She wrote this week: "I really can't think of a better place to go through all of this. Back home, I would have been a mess for a lot longer and really would have gone back to him."

Her motto atop her Web page reads in part: "I belong to the Army. Sometimes it sucks, sometimes it doesn't."

What does Iraq mean? For many soldiers, the big issues debated back home are less important than the simple reality of being there. A 23-year-old soldier who calls himself "Dreadcow," who recently returned home, tries to explain: "As much as it sucked I wouldn't trade my time in the desert for anything. . . . When people ask me what I did during the war I don't have to say I shoveled [expletive] and picked strawberries." Dreadcow says he has learned two things from Iraqis: the importance of having a special place for your gun at home, and the requirement that "every male should have some sort of facial hair."

The military bloggers celebrate their heroes, like Pfc. Ross A. McGinnis, a 19-year-old Army gunner from Knox, Pa., who died Dec. 4 falling on a grenade that was thrown into his truck, thereby saving his buddies. His platoon sergeant explained: "He had time to jump out of the truck. He chose not to." His friend Pfc. Brennan Beck said of him: "He loved it here in Iraq. He loved being a gunner. It was a thrill, he loved everything about it." He was awarded the Silver Star posthumously.

War changes people. That's something that comes through powerfully in these soldiers' accounts of life in the battle zone. "Grey Eagle," the moniker of a 35-year-old combat medic serving with the 101st Airborne Division, writes in her blog, "I have been living in another life time another dimension so separate from the world I left behind that I fear I may never really find my way back. Will those I love be able to accept me if I was not the exact person they knew. Would they be angry with me for the loss of my innocence."

And yes, you did read that correctly. I was mentioned in the Washington Post.

Thank you, Mr. Ignatius, for making my Christmas a little brighter.

holidays of contrasts

Last year I had rushed home from work to be with my family for our Christmas celebration. Blondie and her family had come up for a few days, and it had been a long time since we were all together for the holiday. I remember the two of us sitting on my kitchen floor, playing dolls with our littlest cousin and talking about our hopes for the future. Blondie spoke of going Active Duty while I was dreaming of France. Above everything else, I remember being surrounded by family. Little cousins underfoot, aunts, uncles, godparents, grandparents, the good, the bad, the ugly. Christmas trees, cookies and sweets, traditional and American foods, home.

This year is the first year I've been away from home for the holidays. I always thought it would be when I was in France, in a landscape that was a little more familiar. Not to say that it's a bad thing, just different.

This year I'm surrounded by friends, and I know I'm in the thoughts of those back home. It's harder than what I thought it would be. There are no little cousins here to play with, to cuddle, to share silly secrets with. There are no aunts here to ask about my love life. There is no place to bake, and no one to bake with. There is no fussing about what ornament goes where on the tree. There will be no long drawn out holiday, no visiting relatives.

Christmas here will be a day off of work and an early morning run. It's such a surreal thing.

Such a contrast.

even my mom thinks that I need bigger rocks

Techno: MOMMMMMMMY!
Mom: Morning .
Techno: Why do boys suck?
Mom: Now what?
Techno: Don't really want to talk about it. But, they suck. Maybe it's because I'm one of the few women out here surrounded by guys?
Mom: Just hit them in the head with a rock.
Techno: I think I need bigger rocks. I need rocks that go up north, to Brazil, and... I'm sure I can find other places.
Mom: Maybe a boulder will do?
Techno: I think. I might have to mail some of them.

It scares me when I have two conversations with two very different men regarding baby mama drama.

not destroying each other

It is our earth, not yours or mine or his. We are meant to live on it, helping each other, not destroying each other.

- J. Krishnamurti

I truly do not believe that most people in this world set out to hurt others.

So why do we do it?

avec beaucoup de tristesse

Je pense à elles avec beaucoup de tristesse
Quand la lune est pleine
Quelles fêtes, quelles dances
Et quelles chansons se passent sans moi?

I think about them with great sadness
When the moon is full
What parties, what dances
What songs are happening without me?

--Autrefois by Pink Martini

My mom sent Christmas gifts from my grandmother last week. Along with the presents there was a card. All it read was "you are missed."

Part of Gram's gift was a recordable oranment. In the background of the recording she has Frank Ticheli's Vesuvius, and over that, her sharply contrasting voice wishing me happy holidays.

I miss them too.

progress is measured in funny ways

A boy: Emotional abuse? Not to downplay all of that, but...
Techno: I know. I let him do it. And I'm still upset with myself for that.
A boy: So forget all of that. Open mind, open heart.
Techno: I'm trying, really, I am. And I'm a lot better now than I used to be.

Progress is slow and measured in funny ways, but I think I'll be alright.

I really can't think of a better place to go through all of this. Back home, I would have been a mess for a lot longer and really would have gone back to him. But not here.

Christmas is coming

Twig bought lights for our little Christmas tree. So it's all lit up and pretty at the foot of my bed. I might put a few of my still-wrapped presents under it. Or buy Twig something and stick it under there.

She walked into the quad singing "Oh Christmas tree..."
Keeping up with her tempo, I sang "Oh Christmas tree..."

We giggled like little school girls.

shock and disbelief

Writing long emails, one at a time, knowing that they're being received with a great feeling of shock and disbelief.

How much do we really know of each other's personal lives?

normal stuff

My bed is mostly light-proofed now, and I think it's quite a comfy little cave. When I left for work this morning Twig was hanging Christmas lights that my mom sent to us, so our quad is slowly turning into a dorm room. Only, you know, without the walls.

The three of us are going on a day trip together, which is quite exciting. It's been a long time since we have spent any time together outside of the barracks. FreshMeat is going on leave soon, so after this it'll be two very long weeks without her. Not that we normally trip over each other or anything.

Speaking of leave... Fuzz's girlfriend asked me if I was taking leave after the baby is born. Um, no. Aside from the fact that the baby is due during the period that I can't take leave, I'm not coming home for leave. How many times do I have to tell people that I am not coming home?

not moving

Okay, so I'm not moving, at least no time soon. Apparently it was an option, and I never had that impression.

So so tired. I miss walls, quiet and darkness.

things that scare the crap out of me

Spent time at work Googling again. Here's a few snippets of what I found. Emphasis is mine.

*****

From TEAR:

Abusers often use excuses such as, "If you love me you would..." or "You have to make sacrifices for a relationship," or "It would really make me happy if you wouldn’t..." Using these phrases doesn't come across as demanding; and therefore can be hard to distinguish as what they really are: a way to take advantage of someone.

Victims may stay in abusive relationship because they...
...feel responsible
...think that jealousy and possessiveness is a sign of love
...may not realize they are being abused
...have no one to go to
...are inexperienced with dating relationships
...feel pressured to be in a relationship
...have a lowered self-esteem
...don’t want to think the person they love is hurting them
...may believe the abuse is their fault
...hope that their partner will stop being abusive
...believe they are in love
...are not ready to leave their partner

*****

Shortened red flag list from Dr Irene:

• Jealous of time or resources you give others.
• Gets angry if you spend "too much time" with friends, family, or children.
• Is disinterested in or feels threatened by your personal desires or goals.
• Picks a fight or creates a crisis just before an event that is important to you.
• States or implies that your interests should not interfere with spending time with them.
• Does not respect your right to make your own decisions.
• Insists that your decision "affects them" and therefore should be a "joint" decision.
• Gets angry or hurt if you don't take their advice.
• Criticizes or questions the wisdom of decisions that you make without their input.
• Has "trouble" at work.
• Is chronically unemployed or changes jobs frequently.
• Is very concerned about their public image.
• Gets angry at you if they believe that you have somehow made them look bad to others.
• Attempts to make you jealous or insecure.
• Tells you that no one will ever care about you the way they do.
• Is jealous and suspicious.
• Accuses you of infidelity.
• Uses guilt trips.
• Lectures you endlessly until you agree.
• Insists that friends of the opposite sex are trying to seduce you.
• Insists that THEY are the victim in the relationship.
• Accuses you of being selfish, rude, self-centered, uncooperative, etc.
• Claims that you are the one undermining the relationship.
• Accuses you of not loving them or not caring about them.
• Threatens suicide or homicide if you leave them.

*****

Yeah. Scary.

he's called Lucky for a reason

Lucky: Do you love me?
Techno: I don't know. And being out here just fucks with my head. And, I think I'm really just afraid.
Lucky: Afraid of?
Techno: Being in an unhealthy relationship, I think? Like, I want to do what I want to do without feeling bad or guilty or that I have to hide it. As stupid as that sounds.
Lucky: And what is it you wanna do?
Techno: Fly with my boss, look into the warrant officer program, travel, graduate without rushing, spend time with my friends at home.
Lucky: So what's holdin' you up?
Techno: Being here. No, that was all stuff that he had serious issues with.
Lucky: Well you should go do all that. His opinions no longer matter. You're free of that.
Techno: I know. Believe me, I know.
Lucky: Well I want you to be happy and do as you please. Just don't forget me and know that I love you.

He's called Lucky for a reason. And the story behind all of this (and him) is a rather personal one and may never be posted. But it's a very good thing that he's in my life right now.

Also, I feel like I owe many many people an apology, but there are too many people and reasons to list, so I'm not going to bother.

so long already?

It's been roughly six months since I've started all of this crazy Army stuff. Six very long months. And I still feel uneasy in uniform. Will it get better?

Also, it's amazing who I still maintain contact with and who I don't. Fifi and I text, email or talk a few times a week and I've been fortunate enough to see her once since we've been over here. We keep each other sane. I avoid LittleBit to the best of my ability, for the sake of my sanity. So tired of hearing about weddings, and I almost hope that I never fret over the details of one. InfantryMedic sends email, and sometimes attaches videos of himself just chatting away. His emails are signed with an acronym that I don't understand. Sweetheart sends messages now and then, but since he's told me about his baby I've tried to do my best to drop off the radar. He doesn't like to talk about himself or his situation. I live with Twig, but not for much longer. According to her, out of the females that are here, I know her best. I go days without seeing Sgt Z, which is quite sad. I miss my mentor and all of her guidence.

To say that my life has changed significantly since the start of this would be an understatement. Some of it's for the best, and I keep telling myself that.

Such a pity that I had to come out to the middle of nowhere to do it, but I think Ipo has a point: the Army is the easiest, quickest means I have of uprooting, going elsewhere and leaving all of that crap normally associated with my life behind.

I am lucky that I have such great friends.

Je ne veux pas travailler

Je ne veux pas travailler
Je ne veux pas déjeuner
Je veux seulement oublier
Et puis je fume

-- Sympathique by Pink Martini

I slept through PT this morning. My supervisor came in to check on me afterwards -- "are you okay?" she asks. Meaning, really, "are you sick?" No, not sick, not hurt, just exhausted. But that's what happens when your roommates work different shifts than you do.

Which means that if I had second thoughts about moving out of the quad before, they are there no longer. As soon my new bed opens up, I'm dragging all my stuff down the hall.

embrace the suck

"Embrace the suck."

Sweetheart told me this oh so very long ago, but I don't think I've done much of it.

What's the first part of embracing the suck, anyways?

when everything you touch turns to dust

I never did make it to the Chaplain's office today. A whole packet of work was dumped unceremoniously at my desk, and I only half-understand what's going on. And then add drama about typed dates and office codes and other administrative crap.

Oh, and I shredded an important document.

MeuExAmor has been suicidal since I broke up with him. I mean, he had said ages ago that if I broke up with him, he wouldn't have the will to live, would want to die... and some of the stuff he said to me on the phone was pretty scary.

...I just thought that he got better, that it was all behind him, and it wasn't.

And I never said anything about it to anyone who mattered.

why am I here, again?

I let the track beat me today, I let the push-ups beat me today, and I let my leg beat me today.

I feel like crawling up in my bunk with a book and ignoring the world for the rest of the night.

Lately I've had a really bad case of the "I don't wannas". Don't want to leave the barracks after the sun has set, don't want to crawl out of bed for PT, don't want to call MeuExAmor, don't want to write letters or cards, don't want to clean. It's terrible, really.

Why am I here, anyways?

not what I want

Lucky: Why did you decide to not go to Brazil?
Techno: Just wouldn't be a good thing for me to do.
Lucky: So are you coming back to the States then?
Techno: No, sorry. It just wouldn't be fair. There would be a lot of people to visit, and two weeks isn't a lot of time.

Why does everyone think I'm coming home?

That's not what I want.

not another day at the office

Feasting my eyes the glittering blue of the Gulf -- a big change from the monotone world of sand -- I felt a sense of calm.

I spent the night crawling on and off trucks, pulling, cutting, tying. Doing what some would call man's work. Working alongside third country nationals who stared and laughed at this soldier, this woman, working and joking with men that were definitely not her relatives, struggling and finding a way to do the same job that they did. If it's work, can I call it a vacation?

It's almost like someone somewhere knew I needed this.