wishing for the emails to stop

This email rubbed me the wrong way today:

Alcon,

You have been identified as having Reserve obligation left on your
enlistment contract. If you are interested in returning to an Army
Reserve unit, I can assist you with that. There is a lot of Benefits
and Incentives for you to return to the Army Reserves.

By the way, this isn't the only email I've received on this topic.

I was declared unfit for duty. I was separated from the Army and put on temporary disability retirement. And yet I'm getting contacted about coming back into the Army because they think I'm in the Individual Ready Reserve (IRR). Does the right hand not know what the left hand is doing?

To get off of the list of those in IRR I need to contact the Human Resource Command (HRC) and provide a copy of my DD214. Once upon a time I had access to one of the internal, secure websites the HRC uses for personnel information. I know I'm in that system. But I also know that system doesn't properly reflect those that are in the National Guard or the Active Duty components. And, to be fair, the end of my "active" status where I went to drill was the same month of my retirement. So , yes, it's quite possible that there's a disconnect between systems. That doesn't change the fact that it's annoying.

I am not fit for duty. I am not interested in trying to get back in. I am done. D-O-N-E. Done.

Is it too much to ask for the emails to stop?

Military Secrets

These are all postcards from the community art project known as PostSecret. People are invited to write a secret they have never shared and anonymously send it in.

The following are postcards that I either saw in the PostSecret books or floating around the web. They all are in one way or another related to Operation Iraqi Freedom or military service. My goal is to post military related cards as they come out, as PostSecret does not have an archive.

A note on two of the cards that share thoughts of going to Iraq and never coming back: this is more common than you realize. There are serious mental health issues in military community that never get addressed because of the stigma of getting help. Some seek help, but most do not. No one wants to be thought of as crazy. Not all commands know and understand mental health and treatments that are available. There are soldiers every day that at least think about crawling into a bunker, a port a john, or some other secluded spot with a loaded weapon and never seeing their loved ones again. And those are just the ones in theater. PTSD can kill someone slowly once they're stateside when they turn to alcohol or drugs to deal with it.

Help is available. All you have to do is ask. If necessary, demand it. Take yourself in. The only person that can take care of you is yourself.

on making the leap

leap

v. leaped or leapt, leap·ing, leaps

v.intr.

1. To spring or bound upward from or as if from the ground; jump: leaped over the wall; salmon leaping upriver.

2. a. To move quickly or abruptly from one condition or subject to another: always leaping to conclusions. b. To act impulsively: leaped at the opportunity to travel.

v.tr.

1. To jump over: couldn't leap the brook.

2. To cause to leap: leap a horse over a hurdle.

n.

1. a. The act of leaping; a jump. b. A place jumped over or from. c. The distance cleared in a leap.

2. An abrupt or precipitous passage, shift, or transition: a leap from rags to riches.

An abrupt or precipitous passage, shift, or transition. Is that the best way to describe my leap? Or was it a purely impulsive act that I made late one night, hitting reply to the fateful email as fast as I could? Can I even separate the two?

The world I live in now is drastically different from the one I left behind. My life is, too. There is no way I can go back to the States and pretend that nothing is different, that nothing has changed. And I'm okay with that.

These days I don't think much about that email asking for volunteers. Months ago, I was still struggling with the decision I made. And I did have a choice. I could have gone to Brazil on the month-long trip I had planned, followed by a summer of Army training, flying with Bossman and a trip to a workshop for my civilian job. Instead, I hit reply. I put my name on that list, and I made the cut. That involved finishing my finals early so I could go to reclassification school. There was no Brazil trip. There wasn't much flying. There was no workshop. And the Army training that had been planned was definitely not a two week stint. I made a choice between two planes, and I picked the one that took me to the desert rather than a sleepy Brazilian town.

My decision was met with a wide variety of reactions. MeuExAmor swung between very upset, pseudo-supportive, and outright hurtful. Many were shocked. My mother was in tears at one point, while my dad was doing all of the research he could. I found more support than I thought I would, and I found it in people that I wouldn't have expected. The hardest was not getting it from those whom I cared about deeply. But, I'm past that now.

I could always think of this as bounding upwards. Money in the bank, debt paid off, increased benefits... and all of the mushy stuff, which I won't delve into here.

I don't regret hitting reply, no matter how tough things get.

Dear World

Dear World,

Please take note of our return. Give us a hero's welcome, regardless of whether or not we feel we deserve it. Shake our hands, give us a hug, let us know that we were missed, that we are wanted, that we were cared for, that we are welcome.

Please take us back into the fold. Help those who are seeking for work find it. Do not look at our job applications, our resumes and think that we have no "real world" experience. Some of us have more than you think. Have you changed the popped tire on a rather large semi truck trailer in less than 30 minutes? Have you had to discuss and compromise when the lights will turn out in the barracks? Have you ever taken a weapon away from a tearful comrade, and then sat and talked to them? All of these are very real world experiences, no matter how mundane -- do not brush them away lightly. Help those who are trying to further their education work the system. Remind us of deadlines, refresh us on procedures, point us in the right direction. Resist the temptation of thinking that we are someone else's problem. We are not a problem, but we do need your help. And when we call you Sir or Ma'am, know that we mean it. Help those who have left their families behind reintegrate, no matter how big or small, how traditional or not. We left behind our spouses, our partners, our parents, our grandparents, our aunts and uncles, our siblings, our nieces and nephews, our cousins. Things have changed. Teach us, show us these changes. Please give us time to readjust. Calm us when we wake up in the middle of the night screaming, listen to our stories, have patience when we become frustrated with life at home. Know that we missed you dearly, and no words can ever explain that feeling.

Please help us heal our wounds, obvious or not. Do not linger on scars, on missing limbs. On the other hand, don't handle us with kid gloves when we need your help -- we will not shatter. A kind word and a good conversation can go far and mean more than you imagine. Remember that some of us have seen things that you could only imagine. Know that some of us have had nightmares or have cried ourselves to sleep. Be mindful of how a fireworks display or a door slamming shut can make us think that danger is near. We are human, and we are not invincible to all of the hurts in the world.

Please respect us, whether you agree with what we do for a living or not. We are important to someone. We have lives, jobs, families. Some of us volunteered to leave home, some of us did not. There is no difference between the two groups -- we went, we did our duty, we served our country. There are many of us who signed on the dotted line before September 11, and plenty who took the oath afterwards. Refrain from claiming that we should have known what we got ourselves into or calling us cold-hearted killers. Open your mind and try to imagine what our day-to-day life is like -- or better yet, ask us.

Do not forget us. We haven't forgotten you.

since when is MySpace a dating site?

Okay, I understand the "new" Army OPSEC policy for bloggers. I know what I can and can't take photos of, and I know what I have to Photoshop out of the photos that I want to share with the world. Got it, tracking, good to go.

But, blocking MySpace? And Facebook? Shame on you, Mother Army. For the record, they are not dating sites, but rather, networking sites. Most of us use MySpace or Facebook to communicate with those in the rear. I understand blocking them on work-related computers, as it's easy to waste hours on either website. That's not exactly productive. But off-duty hours and locations, there shouldn't be a problem. I haven't made it to one of the labs to see if they really are blocked there.

This is a stark reminder that the Army is so out of touch with Web 2.0 and its own web-savvy Soldiers.

Don't lock us down -- use us to your advantage.

Edit: Yes, those selected sites were already blocked on duty computers -- as they should be -- and the Stars and Stripes reported recently (today? yesterday?) that MySpace and such are accessible from certain MWR facilities. There have been periods here where MySpace was blocked at least two free labs on my post, and Soldiers had to go to the commercial internet cafe and pay $5 an hour for internet. That was lifted, but I don't know if it's back in place again as I mostly use commercial internet during off-duty hours. Will have to check that out.

"new" OPSEC rules

While a good portion of the Milblogging community is up in arms about the "new" OPSEC rules, it's really not a big deal. No photos of roadside bombs or bodies, don't talk about strength and buildings, and so on and so forth. Since we're not supposed to have pictures of battle damage or causalties, there's no problem there. Oh, and we're not supposed to have pictures of antennas and satellites either. Not a big deal. Calm down, and blog on.

The most annoying part of it all has been the constant emails with the updated information. Today it was the Army Fact Sheet for OPSEC and Milblogging from the Army Public Affairs Office, dated 4 May 07. Here's a few snippets:

In no way will every blog entry/update a Soldier makes on his or her blog need to be monitored or first approved by an immediate supervisor and Operations Security (OPSEC) officer. After receiving guidance and awareness training from the appointed OPSEC officer, that Soldier blogger is entrusted to practice OPSEC when posting in a public forum.

There is no way any work would get done if our OPSEC officer had to pour over all of our blog postings. We've all been taught about what not to talk about, we all know what's sensitive. And in case we forget, it's posted. Same thing with what we can and can't take photos of, even though it still happens. Just harder to be caught if you don't share them.

Army Regulation 530-1, “Operations Security,” was updated April 19, 2007, but the wording and policies on blogging remain the same from the July 2005 guidance first put out by the U.S. Army in Iraq for battlefield blogging. Since not every entry/update in a public forum can be monitored, this regulation places trust in the Soldier, Civilian Employee, Family Member and contractor that they will use proper judgment to ensure OPSEC.

See? It really is the same thing that we've been doing for awhile. Quit jumping to conclusions. Just be smart about what you put out there, because everyone -- whether you want them to read it or not -- can read it. And this is exactly why I don't post about a good number of things, and why I've choosen to be as anonymous as possible.

Although I do find emails in my inbox asking me to be a part of a live interview about all of this in Baghdad rather amusing.

reality?

From International Herald Tribune:

The United States military announced Wednesday that most active duty army units now in Iraq and Afghanistan and those sent in the future would serve 15-month tours, three months longer than the standard one-year tour.

Secretary of Defense Robert Gates, who announced the change at a news conference at the Pentagon, said that the only other way to maintain force levels would have been to allow many soldiers less than a year at home between combat tours.

The lovely bit that applies to me:

Army National Guard or Army Reserves are supposed to be mobilized for no more than a year at a time, including nine months in Iraq or Afghanistan, under a policy announced by Gates in January.

Extending tours, shortening tours. But only for the Army. We already have some of the longest tours -- how is this going to change things?

Driver's convoy was hit by a roadside bomb during this mission. Everyone is fine, the equipment did the job it was supposed to do. Just worried. I know the trucks will keep them all safe, I know that they know what they're doing, and I know that he usually returns quickly and always in one piece. But there are people out there that are trying to kill Coalition troops. They do try. Some are successful. Sometimes, I hate his job. This is one of those times.

Mental Illness in Service Members

From Christian Lowe's "Mental Illness Plagues Current Vets":

More than one third of American troops returning from combat in Iraq and Afghanistan have been diagnosed with some sort of mental or "psychosocial" disorder, a new report from the Archives of Internal Medicine finds.

Out of 103,788 veterans assessed in the study, titled "Bringing the War Back Home," more than 32,000 veterans of Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom who were discharged from the military between 2001 and 2005 were found by Veterans Affairs examiners to have mental health problems, including substance abuse.

The authors of the study – lead by Dr. Karen H. Seal of the University of California, San Francisco – found that a majority of those determined to have mental health problems were diagnosed with Posttraumatic Stress Disorder, or more than 13,200 vets.

And those afflicted with mental or psychosocial disorders tended to be the youngest troops.

"Veterans aged 18-24 were at the greatest risk for receiving mental health or Posttraumatic Stress Disorder diagnoses compared with veterans 40 years or older," the San Francisco VA-sponsored study found. "Targeted early detection and intervention beginning in primary care settings are needed to prevent chronic mental illness and disability."

You can read the rest of the article at Military.com.

Aku shared a similar article from ABCnews.com with me. Part of it reads:

"We are seeing a great number of soldiers coming back being treated in VA hospitals and in communities with depression, anxiety and PTSD," said Dr. Michelle Riba, professor of psychiatry at the University of Michigan and past president of the American Psychiatric Association.

In the new study, the authors say their findings signal a need for improvements in preventing mental health disorders in troops, as well as detecting and treating them early.

However, Riba said studies and surveys will only be helpful if action is taken to stem the problem.

"It is good that surveys are being done and the government is trying to address other issues," she said.

"But the question is: What are we really trying to do to help these vulnerable people?"

It's just another one of those things that hits close to home. A month ago I was diagnosed with Anxiety of the Not Otherwise Specified variety. I'm probably a few tick marks away from being diagnosed with depression -- although I doubt that being in this environment is the cause.

Part of me feels guilty about it because I'm not kicking in doors, I'm not scanning my sector for IEDs, and I'm not in a position where I would suffer bodily harm. I'm a fobbit. I ride a bus to work, I go on mail and coffee runs, and I have daily access to a computer and a DSN phone. I get along with my coworkers, I socialize with friends, and my boyfriend -- when he's not on a mission -- is a phone call away. Piece of cake, right?

And yet... I'm having problems and I don't know why. I've growled, yes, growled at Driver, at Wolf, and my friends. I've hit Wolf in my sleep. I lie or omit information during visits to Mental Health. I've thought about going AWOL over leave, getting pregnant, or hurting myself. I've been disrespectful to those who are senior to me, to include hanging up the phone on my First Sergeant and telling my Chief something not so pleasant. I'm almost constantly tired, occasionally irritable, and sometimes cry.

In the back of my mind a little voice says that I'm a fobbit and this shouldn't be happening. It's real. It's happening. And the only control I have over it is to lie, lie, lie.

So why am I not getting the help that I obviously need? I don't want to get sent home -- I need the money, I need the veteran status, and I need the support group that I have here. I don't want my medical records tagged or otherwise marked that I have a mental illness and should be put on restricted duty. I don't want everyone to be whispering "Techno's gone crazy" behind my back. I don't want to be treated with kid gloves when I get home. I want to be normal. Or at least as normal as normal gets around these parts.

Will I get help? Honestly, I don't know. I do go to Mental Health every few weeks, and it looks like that will continue until I redeploy to go home. I talk to Driver, I talk to Wolf, I go to Circle and meditate. I go to my appointments, I've had bloodwork and other labs done, and I report to my Command Sergeant Major on how I'm doing. She's still looking for something physically wrong with me, and I doubt that she'll find it.

There are good days and there are bad days. On the good days no one sees anything wrong and on bad days I just want to curl up in my bunk and be left alone. Today? Not so sure about, but I'm still trucking away.

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.

"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.

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.

ARNEWS: Virginia National Guard eyes Web sites, blogs

The following is exactly why I don't mention a lot of specifics or post pictures.

WASHINGTON (Army News Service, Oct. 12, 2006) – Big Brother is not watching you, but 10 members of a Virginia National Guard unit might be.

The Manassas-based Virginia Data Processing Unit activated a team in July for one year to scan official and unofficial Army Web sites for operational security violations.

The team, which works under the direction of the Army Web Risk Assessment Cell, Army Office of Information Assurance and Compliance, notifies webmasters and blog writers when they find documents, pictures and other items that may compromise security.

The team uses several scanning tools to monitor sites for OPSEC violations. The tools search for such key words as “for official use only” or “top secret,” and records the number of times they are used on a site. Analysts review the results to determine which, if any, need further investigation.

(cut for length)

When a team member finds information that could be sensitive, he or she marks it for further investigation. Another team member reviews the item and determines if the webmaster or blog writer should be notified. Most notifications are made by e-mail, and the person responsible is given a few days to respond, depending on the severity of the issue.

When secret documents are found, the site owner is notified immediately by phone. Official sites are contacted through either the webmaster, or in some cases, the unit’s chain of command.

The most common OPSEC violations found on official sites are For Official Use Only (FOUO) documents and limited distribution documents, as well as home addresses, birthdates and home phone numbers.Unofficial blogs often show pictures with sensitive information in the background, including classified documents, entrances to camps or weapons. One Soldier showed his ammo belt, on which the tracer pattern was easily identifiable.

Although AWRAC contacts Soldiers who write unofficial blogs, the team does not review sites that lack public access. Team members identify themselves as AWRAC representatives, and work with a legal counsel to ensure their actions adhere to law and Army regulations.

(cut again for length)

still alive, still doing the civilian thing, still in the States

No, I haven't died. However, I have gone through all of my old posts and removed "real names" to protect the Not So Innocent. It's also a protective measure for myself as well. Just In Case someone decides to do Something Stupid and I get in trouble for a security breach.

Meanwhile, I'm in Nashville with my parents, mooching off of them for awhile. It's more like a weeklong vacation where I get to tag along. Only we're on motorcycles. And we're with a bunch of crazy motorcycle people.

We start for home on Friday, but we won't get there until Sunday night. Monday morning is my doctor's appointment, where I get to plead my case for topical pain relievers. Wish me luck, because I might go crazy without them.

Just a few more weeks. Kind of hard to believe, isn't it? Seems like it's taking forever.

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.

Here we go

My story is a little long, and I have to leave out some details. In fact, a lot of details will be missing. I apologize.

First things first, I suppose. I'm in my early 20s. Single, but with a foreign boyfriend who does not live in the States. I'm a college student studying Computer Science and French. I work in a planetarium as the resident computer geek. But that's not what's bringing me to write this.

I'm a National Guardsmen and I'm being deployed overseas.

Stop.

Breathe.

It's okay. I volunteered. And like I've told friends and family and coworkers and everyone else: it's a lot of money (tax-free!), my benefits go up, and I get veteran status.

I need a year to get myself back into shape and get my life together.

A year to save money for my grand dream: a year studying French in Paris.