this alone is motivation

See this little guy? That's one of my baby cousins that I keep writing about. He's grown a lot since I took this picture of him, about a year ago.

Sometimes he doesn't understand who is on the other end of the phone or why this stranger keeps asking silly questions like "what have you learned in school?"

Sometimes I wonder if he will remember all of the stupid games we used to play and silly things we did together. Will he remember staying up late at night, sipping warm milk and listening to Brazilian music? How I played with him, building up a hidden stash of cars until he discovered my trick? Nights of "show Techno how you brush your teeth!"? Whispering nonsense in his ear while out and about?

Mostly I hope that he'll remember me. I can't wait to see his big goofy grin.

saying goodbye, again

Yesterday at lunch I said goodbye to two of my girl friends. Their tour is over and it's time for them to go home. No more gut-spilling cigarette breaks, no more snarky comments about those around us, no more swapping camera bodies and lenses or comparing photos, no more nights of bingo playing each other's boards and complaining about the callers.

I think it'll take a few days to sink in that they're gone.

a very long chat will be involved

At the moment, I'm torn. I'm also in a lot of pain. Part of me is rather upset and just wants to sit here and cry. The other part is pissed. Very pissed.

But mostly I want to cry.

drop your pants

There are very few things in this world that make people think that you've just returned from leave. Apparently a certain immunization is one of them. When my reply to the tech's inquisitive but polite question was a negative one, all she could say was "oh."

"Oh."

I guess that wasn't the answer she was looking for. Or expected.

The tech chattered about, mentioning how she was being nice and mixing it with lidocaine -- something about how this shot brings Marines to their knees. It looks nice and thick, too. I think I'll lay down for this one.

When she was done, I let her know exactly what I thought of the shot: it's like Anthrax in the buttocks. Only I didn't say buttocks.

Case of the Mondays

It's Monday. And from my understanding, Mondays are universally the most disliked day of the workweek. Your weekend of freedom is over, time to get back to the grind.

Now imagine this. You arrive at the office to discover a trench dug right in front of the threshold. You go to your desk and find out that the network is down, meaning no email, no Internet, no remote drives. There's no way you can get any work done. The network isn't due to come up until the following day. However, you're one of the lucky ones -- some workstations don't even have power. But there is still electricity, which means that you still have lights. Your boss thinks this is the perfect opportunity to clean up. The end result of that is five garbage bags of shredded paper, and there's still more to do.

After lunch, nothing has changed. Coworkers start disappearing. Lunches, meetings, promotion ceremonies. A contracted laborer comes into the office and announces that the power is going to go out for about thirty minutes. You call your supervisor, who is oblivious to everything that's going on and instructs you to call your boss. Just as you get the boss on the phone, you watch your last coworker in the office walk out the door. Your instructions? Stay put. Don't leave. Open a door for some light.

It is 115 degrees outside. There is no power, there is no air conditioning. Opening the door lets in the sun, which brings in the heat. Everyone else has taken off. You are sitting alone in a dark office. A dark hot office. And you know that the guy that outranks you just walked out of the door without so much as checking in with the boss.

How's that for a case of the Mondays?

I have a feeling that this is going to be a very long thirty minutes.

hypothetical story

So here's a hypothetical story for you:

Girl gets deployed, leaves everything familiar behind. Girl meets boy, eventually decides that he's creepy. Repeat a few times for good measure. Girl ends up hiding in the barracks for a weeks at a time. Girl meets boy on New Year's Eve. Girl and boy hit it off. Boy tells girl that he smokes pot at home. Girl is uneasy about this, but ignores it. Boy and girl become exclusive. Boy introduces girl to his friends, girl's social circle expands. Boy is absolute sweetheart, friends are great. Boy's and girl's families are excited for them. Girl goes on leave, then boy goes on leave. Boy smokes pot over leave, tells girl about it. It bothers girl. A lot. Girl is already struggling with other things. Girl thinks boy isn't going to give up pot. Boy has no clue of what she's thinking.

What now?

sandstorm, day two

Four places where I'd rather be right now...
1. not in the middle of a sandstorm
2. somewhere with indoor plumbing
3. somewhere where the water doesn't go out on a regular basis
4. somewhere with four walls and a door

The sound of the wind against the tent is pretty impressive. The canvas is straining against the metal frame and the floresant lights keep bouncing back and forth. It reminds me of a tornado, but I know if I open the door I'll just see sand blowing around like snow drifts. Only it is definitely not snow, and this is definitely not winter.

Whoever designed and set up these tents knew exactly what they were doing.

I am so not going outside today.

Happy (Belated) Birthday, Techno

I feel like a toy soldier again. Press the right buttons, make and fulfill certain requests, send off emails, provide data. Life is more than this, but it wouldn't seem like that.

When my birthday rolled around, no one said anything about it at the office. No card, no birthday wishes, nothing. Not a word. And I know that I'm getting older and that I shouldn't expect a fuss for my birthday -- nor do I want to make a big deal out of it -- but it is a bit of a let down to realize that your office just doesn't care.

Aramis was the one who ended up brightening my day. The three of us were sitting around the coffee house, Aramis doing his usual dashing in and out. He finally came back, settled in, and pulled a piece of chocolate cake out of a bag. Nothing that unusual for him, really. Then he pulled out the candles. Joking that he probably couldn't get all 23 to fit on one piece of cake, Aramis stuck two candles in the icing and lit them.

"Happy Birthday, Techno."

Ky's big joke

Ky was never medevac'd. There was no trip to Mental Health. He didn't lash out at his roommate or anyone else. His laptop was not smashed.

The guys played a trick on me, and I fell for it. None of them understand just how not funny that was, how you don't joke about one of your friends being medevac'd. They didn't understand why I was crying.

I think I need more female friends. When did guys get so dense?

I know I should

My face is buried in the space between his shoulder and the couch as he tells me that I need professional help. He didn't get much sleep. And he really didn't like what I had to say to him last night, either.

"That's throwing everything away -- your friends, your family, me, your future, the Peace Corps..." His voice trails off. He's upset. I don't blame him. He likes to be happy, and he wants me to be happy.

"Why do you think about those things?" Like I want to. "Think about happy things instead..." If it were that easy.

I don't want to go back. Two of my friends have been medevac'd in the same 24-hour period, one rather unexpectedly. I am afraid of popping another so-called happy pill. I can't stand the thought of sitting in the doctor's office, or even entering the building.

And yes, I know I should.

Ky

Ky was medevac'd yesterday.

Apparently, he had come back from the latrine in the morning and found his very expensive laptop smashed. We're not sure if it fell off of his bunk or if someone purposely broke it. Ky went wild. He lashed out at his roommate, swinging but not hitting. Others came to investigate and he went after them, too.

They took Ky to mental health. I can only assume that they made the decision to evacuate him there. There is no mental ward here -- what else could they do?

He needed to get help, but not like this.