packing

I should be packing. Tomorrow I leave for the Big City to do my showdown, so they can collect my duffle and put it in storage. Thrilling.

I don't know. It doesn't feel real yet. When will it?

medical issues... and deployment

I know, I know, I usually write about people and relationships, but this is just as important as them.

In November 2005, I had an outbreak of shingles which did not get treated with antivirals -- mainly because my doctor thought I had two unrelated problems. For those of you that haven't had shingles, they suck. And if you don't get them treated with antivirals, they suck more. Because then the pox heal and you're left with scarring and pain.

Lots of pain.

And that's what I'm dealing with now. I have good days and I have bad days. My bad days are becoming fewer and fewer and I'd like for them to stay that way. But I'm also going to do as much as I can to help.

I can't take the normal drug cocktail and deploy. This is a choice that I've made, and I'll make it work. So, I'm searching for other things I can do. These include dietary and lifestyle changes as well as adding supplements.

So far, so good. Hopefully, it'll all work out.

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.

broken foot

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

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

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

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

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

Stupid wall. Stupid me.

family day brief

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hugs and kisses

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

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

Hugs and kisses,
Techno and Fifi

We were amused.

Wall 1, Fifi 0

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

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

Poor, poor Fifi.

Wall 1, Fifi 0.

friends

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

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

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

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

two thirds, at least

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

I'm mostly there. It could be worse.

It's just the anticipation messing with my head.

I think I found the root of the problem

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

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

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

goodbyes of sorts

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

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

surreal

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

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

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

trying

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

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

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

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

Still trying, regardless.

contrasts

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

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

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

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

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

Such a contrast.

so very very lost

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

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

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

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

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

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

I feel so lost.

home soon

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

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

Anyways, home soon.

going home

The first one of us went home today. Shorty, who had just gone off-post to the mall with MarriedSista, Chica and myself.

Her aunt is dying of cancer. She's going home for the service. That's a very long plane ride that no one wants to take.

We feel like we're removed from life, but it just keeps on moving without us.

In the course of this class, in a mere four weeks, there have been three deaths and a birth.

FratBoy will go home and hold his new nephew. Shorty will stand watch at a loved one's deathbed. Medic will go visit a grave. I'll be visiting family, and not to play with little cousins.

Two days and a wake up.

more?

After convincing a grown man that he really should be back in his barracks before 2200, after talking to Sgt Z about everything from AT to adoption, my phone does the familiar text message buzz thing. It's MeuAmor. (Surprise, surprise, right?)

He writes: What she said make me worry, but she's not online yet, she just said
that need to talk to me. I don't know yet!!! Damn

Apparently his supervisor wants to talk to him. Online. Why online and not at the store? Not a clue. He's paranoid that he's going to lose his job, though. I am, too.

*****

While out at my "dinner date" with InfantryMedic (and trying to keep that as platonic as possible), two main things came up. One: How I Feel About MeuAmor, otherwise known as "Are You Going to Marry This Boy Or What, Girl??" And two: What Do You Really Want Out Of This Life? And the answer -- the superficial answer, anyways -- to both is "I Don't Know."

Question One gets ten kinds of complicated. I need to be able to prove that I can financially support both him and myself before he can immigrate. And no, I can't just move to Brazil and get a job because he can't exactly support me, either. Are there other options? Yes, but let's not get into those right now. They're just as complicated.

Question Two is rather simple, or so I'd like to think. I want to graduate college, I want to get my Master's degree (eventually), and I'd really like to spend a year in France. Do I want to get married? Do I want to have a family? Do I want to have a civilian or military career? I don't know. I'm only 21. I don't have to have the answers to these kinds of questions yet. And I don't think I should have to just yet.

I spent so long thinking that I would be something different from what I am now that I'm perfectly content to bebop around in life. Let me enjoy my years on campus, my years in the band, my time in the planetarium. Someday life is going to be more than books and music and stars. Well, it already is. But you get the idea.

Life is very quickly going to be boots and sand and paperwork, but let's not dwell on that too much, shall we?

If only I could have my cake and eat it, too.

*****

I'm becoming more and more frustrated with my unit. It's no longer a joke or a off-handed, flippiant thing when I say that I'm going to find a new home. I feel like I'm being let down, that I've been let down by my chain of command. I never meant for this Charlie Foxtrot of a mess to happen -- all I wanted was a simple answer to a simple question. A clarification, rather. And instead I've gotten everything but an answer. I've had to request several times for the two weeks, and each time my request gets a little less formal and a little more irritated. We've been lied to repeatedly -- about the possible promotions, about the time away from home and families, and other minor things. I won't be surprised if I end up near where my cousin is now, learning to judge the distance of incoming mortar attacks. I won't be surprised if the job I end up doing is completely different from the one that I was just trained to do. I won't be surprised if I get involunatarily extended. And I definitely won't be surprised if they deny my request. Anything is possible, after all.

All I want is two extra weeks at home with my family. With my baby cousins. With the green grass and blue skies and summer thunderstorms. I'm not asking for much, in my opinion.

I will miss very few people from the band. Most of them are here with me. And all of them understand.

*****

"Everytime a door closes, another one opens"

All I see in front of me are open doors. Which one is the right one? And what door behind me is going to close?

*****

What difference does it make if I'm a soldier or not? What difference does it make if I do it full-time or part-time? What difference does it make if I'm enlisted or an officer?

Does it make a difference?

Am I always going to be defined as "the band girl" or "the admin girl" or "Techno"?

Is there more?

questions

What am I doing here? Why did I decide to do this?

Am I the only one asking myself these questions?

Twig, GlamourBeauty, Shorty, and Chica all were involuntary. Fifi as well, but she'll be in another unit, somewhere else. LittleBit, Sgt Z, EnglishProf and myself were all voluntary. I know LittleBit thinks this is her calling in life. EnglishProf and Sgt Z are probably in it for the money. I tell myself that it's for Paris, although I don't know when I can go. Between enlistments, probably.

Paris seems so far away.

everything has changed

Do I even want to be with this boy for the rest of my life? Is it worth giving up something that I may or may not want to do? Will I regret it later?

What won't I regret?

I'm with adults everyday. (Well, adults that are older than me, anyways.) I hear about their past. I hear about their present and former relationships. I hear their regrets. And it hits me -- I'm 21. I haven't finished college. I'm still a kid. I still have that freedom of no house, no spouse, no kids. And I want to travel. I want to better myself. And I don't want to grow up and look back on my life regretting one thing or another. On the other hand, I'm not naive. I know that I'll have my own set of choices, my own regrets.

This isn't just a fork in the road. I don't just have two clear-cut choices. Each choice will lead to another set of choices. And each of those to another. Do I stay in the band or reclassify to yet another skill? Do I finish this enlistment and never look back? Do I stay enlisted or do I become an officer? Active Army? Air Force? Or do I stick to the civilian side of things -- where I don't know what I'll do when I grow up, what state or even what country I'll end up in. There are no wrong decisions. But there are no right decisions either. A decision is a decision, as simple as that. Even if the aftereffects aren't so simple.

Knowing that there are no right or wrong decisions makes it difficult to choose. The only thing that I do know is that each decision brings new people into my life and casts others out. For some reason it seems that every decision I'm making now is casting more and more people out. My friends don't return my calls. My former classmates and professors don't bother to email. My own boyfriend doesn't want to continue the relationship if I continue to be a soldier. It's almost as if I had died. Or moved and left everything behind. And I'm only a few states away. A phone call, an email away. Not on the other side of the world. Nothing important has changed, other than my duty status.

And yet, everything has changed.