Soldier Medic Weekend Report Vol. 1

I go out every weekend hoping to party as if there is no tomorrow; I always wake up disappointed the next morning because tomorrow actually did come. Don't get me wrong, I have a good time; but there's a part of my brain that won't let me completely enjoy partying. I don't hook up with girls at clubs, I don't get drunk off my gourd (ok well I do, but not to the point of unconsciousness like some people do and I sober up fast), and I get the feeling I don't quite fit in or belong. And then you have stuff like what happened last night. I was dancing with a girl in my company who was sloshed - I mean veeeeeeery drunk - and she got a little out of hand. She was a terrible dancer and she kept trying to kiss me and even copped a feel of my groin while we were dancing. That wasn't even the part that got to me. I can blow that kind of behavior off - she won't remember in the morning and I'll forget eventually - but it is what she was said: "I thought you were too cool to dance with me." It is flattering to be thought of as a "cool kid" but it honestly hurts me when I get the impression that other people feel like I am to high and mighty to stoop to their level. Here's a guy who can't get girls to dance with him at the club (at least not the girls he wants), and who is still really insecure about a lot of things. Hearing things like that makes me feel awkward. So far the Army for me is like High School for a lot of people - confusing and a little awkward. I have fun - I am one of the "cool kids" after all - but it's strange.
Oh and that is only half of the story. I fell asleep on the floor of a swank room in the Marriot hotel in downtown San Antonio waiting for five professional strippers to show up while an amateur stripper (who works as a professional soldier during the week) did her thing in the bedroom. The insanity never ends here.
Well, actually it does. On Nov 12, everybody goes home; except for those soldier medics (thats what they call us here: soldiers first, medics second) who partied a little too hard on the weekends and are pending UCMJ (Uniform Code of Military Justice) action or are already serving Article 15 suspensions; also, all the people who are unable to meet the physical fitness requirements go to G Co. (pronounced "Golf Company". It's only the Army's own special brand of purgatory) There are also a few brave souls who go on to Airborne school and on to Ranger school to become special ops maniacs. All the relationships break up (I am assuming. It was only sex after all); all the married people go back to their cuckolded spouses; boyfriends and girlfriends reunite (or separate, depending on how quickly word of infidelity travels home); very little gets left behind. Looking back, it just feels a little empty. I remember every moment, and there aren't any moments I can point to as being bright shining moments. I didn't waste the time but...
I still haven't found what I am looking for.