Home Again

Who was it that said you can never go home again? Thinking about it now, even though I have returned to the location I call home I have not and cannot return to the place. Home is more than a location - it's a place, a time, and a feeling. Those things can never be fully recaptured. The people who made the home have dispersed and changed and so one can never return to his home again. I realize now that I am an adult - I must be an adult because I have no childhood left me. Everything is serious business now. I am in the business of killing people in defense of my country. Yes, I am a medic and my obvious purpose is to begin step one of the healing process, but only so that they can go and wreak havoc on the bodies of others. No children here.
Even my family has grown up. My sister has her own car, goes to college; My youngest brother just hit puberty and has grown leaps and bounds since I saw him last; and my middle brother is beginning to think about life after college. The location hasn't changed, the house is the same, Dallas is still familiar, but it isn't the home I knew as a child. I can feel time slowly sliding by, it's scary and strange and powerful. I am feeling a distinct urge to maximize every moment, to cram in everything I can to every second of the day. I think I'll start with sleep though. I am bushed.

Marrying for The Money

You know the danger of writing posts early in the day is that interesting things always happen right after you write them. Sunday, after my last post I jokingly proposed marriage. The object of my jesting affection told me that seriously she would.
I was flabbergasted, but the agreement would have been perversely expedient. The logic behind the proposed union was that I needed help getting citizenship and marrying a citizen is one way to obtain citizenship; she was getting chaptered out of the Army and needed benefits due to injuries sustained in the Army and her inability to find employment. We would both get what we needed and she even threw in performance of "wifely duties". She's even attractive.
It would have been wrong. Word on the street is that the girl is of less than stellar character (she's a good friend of mine so I'd like not to believe it but then she is in the Army and Army women are not well known for their chastity) So I did the safe thing. I hate doing the safe thing, but you know there are times that the alternatives just are not worth the payoff.

Soldier Medic Weekend Report Vol. 2: Everything that has a Beginning has an End

I am stealing a cheesy line from a cheesy (but profitable) movie, but the line is the truth. I am leaving Fort Sam Houston. I may never hear from some of my peers again. For the most part, this is a good thing. In the end, I discovered that I could do without the majority of the people who took the 91W (proounced "ninety-one whiskey") course. Many, if not most, of the females are scandalous whores; many of the males (and no doubt females too) are convicted felons and slackers who joined the Army with the aim of salvaging their worthless, wicked lives. The remainder I will miss desperately.
Since my last post I have been interviewed by CNN for a documnetary scheduled to air in early December; recieved a coin of excellence from the Command Sergeant Major of Medcom, the highest ranking enlisted medical soldier in the Army; won Junior Leader of the Cycle (by some miracle); and I had a very good reading at a casting call for a feature film (don't ask me which one or with who because I don't know).
I feel lonely, but I am beginning to believe that my loneliness is my own fault. I don't know how to choose or where to look for friends. I am sure there are plenty of people who would hang out with me but I probably snubbed them all. I also often present an air of uncertainty which probably is a little off-putting too. (But not lately, recent events have made me just a little more confident in my own abilities and probably much more arrogant. I walk with quite a bit of swager now.) I need a regular crew though - a group of friends to hang out with. I also am willing to bet that I won't have that for a long time either.
Despite my complaints of loneliness, I do have a great time. If only just from listening to the stories I hear from other soldiers. Like this girl I know who is geting chaptered out of the Army due to health problems. She realized that she will be without any benefits or employment so she is trying to get married to someone for the health benefits! It will happen to because she is an attractive girl. I was tempted myself - if only for the chance to demand that she do her "wifely" duties.
The sum total of it all, is that it all must end; and it does, in three days.

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.

Hell Week

The weekend is mostly over and stories of the wild things that people did over the weekend (or for that matter the wild people that people did over the weekend) are just beginning to filter back to the company. I for one am hearing stories of how I am "gorgeous" and hot. Blah! A lot of good it does me.
I saw the movie Kill Bill this weekend and honestly, I was a little traumatized. I have never seend so much gore in one movie. Uma Thurman hacks and slices so many non-descript extras that I am sure that Quentin Tarantino killed many of them twice. The movie is bloody, profane, and stylish as hell. Quentin Tarantino hasn't been doing a lot of work since 1997 and Jackie Brown (In fact, he didn't do anything) and it's kinda cool to see him come back so forcefully. The movie is a homage to the 1970's style chopsocky flicks and is filled with noticeable references to past films, including a short guest appearance by Sonny Chiba - who if you didn't know appeared in a lot of '70's era martial arts films. So the long and short of it is that the film is cool; go see it.

Fish Out of Water

Never ever let your friends drag you to a country bar. At least not unprepared. I went to this place last night that the majority of the company congregates at on Saturday nights because I heard it was a good time - "They only play country music at first, as the night goes on they play rap." I believed them because this is Texas and the only people in Texas who listen to country music exclusively live in towns called Hickville, TX. Even in trailer parks where the most country people live Eminem is more popular than Garth Brooks. So as we're riding in the taxi to go to this place I continued to question them: "Will there be black people there"?
"Yes."
"I mean actual black people."
And there were black people at Cowboys/Far West (You know thinking back looking at the names I should have just known better). The black man at Far West worked in the bathroom handing out paper towels and mints.
I wasn't miserable - I just felt odd. I immediately regreted my choice of black slacks and black and white saddle shoes. If you are in San Antonio and plan on visiting Far West, wear a cowboy hat, jeans, and boots. You will be much more comfortable (well you'll fit in but you won't be comfortable. Tight fitting Wranglers can wreak havoc on male genitalia.) I loosened up over time and had a good time. So it was all good.

Four Day Weekend Baby!

I am constantly getting the feeling that I am doing a poor job of telling the story of my life. I often think that I am to vague, too specific, that I forget the interesting details, etc. Guess what, though? I am the only person here to tell the story so I am stuck. The number one most interesting thing I am trying to do now is trying to get into Westpoint. The second is trying to find something to do on this four day weekend.
I could tell you the story of who's sleeping with who; who's married and sleeping with who; who's cheating on their boyfriend/girlfriend/life companion; who walked around in the bay in a thong; (only interesting because it's a male the females walk around naked or in underwear all the time - no big deal); which female is reputed to be a lesbian (I don't think she is but even I'll admit that she fits the stereotype); which females who would probably be lesbians given enough alcohol and a receptive audience (50% of the females here); who is on extra duty; who recently got Article 15's; who has the most interesting sexual history in the past 3 months; etc. But I won't. You'll have to wait for the book. I played that game once before and I didn't even use anybody's name and I was up to my eyes in shit. Those people possibly could still be reading my blog. Not likely but it's possible. I'd liek to apologize quickly for using profanity, but as somebody told me today it's hard to change who you are. The most important thing is to not let other people influence who you are in a negative way and keep you from enjoying the moment. You have to live each moment so that it is the finest moment in your life because life isin short supply.
Interesting things did happen this week. My instruction team had a practical exercise necessitating the separation of males and females. I wish I had some pictures to post because the hilarity ensued once our instructor kicked the females out was high quality. I doubt the females had as good a time as we did but they did get to lounge around a classroom in sports bras. We were doing EKG's and really you should have no shirt or bra on at all (especially if you are male) but there are people who couldn't be professional (me) or confortable (90% of the females) with partial nudity in the classroom. Even shirtless men would probably be to much for most people to handle in a mixed sex environment.
I got a ring to commemorate graduation from the 91W course and to replace the cheap one I bought at Basic Combat Training. It's pretty cool. Not like out of this world but pretty cool nevertheless.
We are coming up to our second (and I hope) final Hell week. We have our record PT test (this one actually counts as it goes on our permanent record), 3 test in 4 days and the end of classroom instruction. All of this coming off a four day weekend. I swear that they give us just enough rope to hang ourselves.
Well I am gonna go out and take advantage of my privileges. Later folks.

Thirty-Eight days and Counting

You know it's not that I am not enjoying Fort Sam Houston but I miss home. I am going to be here another 38 days but I only have 13 days more of classroom instruction. (give or take a couple of days) My training as a medic is approaching the home stretch. Traditionally this is the part of the course that students lose their focus. I am struggling to buck that trend but I am finding that things are dividing my time - like flag football for instance.
Did I mention that Army women are aggressive and take charge individuals? That's all I am going to say.
My cellular phone finally decided to make an appearance, and I must say life is much easier since. I hear my laptop may becoming to visit also.
I've been avoiding hotels lately for the sake of my bank account and instead I find that I am spending the money on taxi's. So next weekend I am going to get a hotel room. :-p
That's all folks.

Wishing for Tomorrow, Trying to Live through Today

Every once in a while I have these flashes of insight (ok so I have had maybe three in my whole life) but I had one the other day. (along with a strange dream of girls arrayed in Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders outfits shooting arrows while I tooled around town in a BMW Z8 convertible) There is no use in wasting today waiting for tomorrow. I am getting a little anxious, a little homesick, a little bit in a hurry to go home and see my family again, but I realized that living weekend to weekend and living for leaving this place was not the answer. I would only have to leave again soon because all good things must come to an end. The only way to enjoy my entire life would to make every place and time a good thing.
So there ends the homily. Since we last spoke I have become a star player on the A Co. flag football team, A Co. acquired a new First Sergeant (a former Special Forces Medical Sergeant no less!) and I finally located my wandering cell phone just in time for Phase 5 Plus! Time to get crazy folks.
So, I went and saw the movie Underworld with a battle buddy yesterday and it was pretty cool. It stars Kate Beckinsdale (she's hot!) and that dude from "Felicity" (Scott Speedman). A little confusing toward the end. (do I root for the vampires? The werewolves? The human?) But it made me think of another movie I saw not to long ago that featured mostly British actors (most notably Christian Bale) called Equilibrium. There is absolutely no connection between the two movies. I don't know why I am trying so hard to find one but I can't and I give up. They are both pretty damn cool though.
Oh yeah and I don't feel so lonely anymore...

Cell Phones Don't Like Me

So I found out the other day that my brother shipped my cellular telephone to Fort Jackson, my last address. SUCKS! I think God is trying to tell me something.
I am trying to be serious so I can finish this post quickly but they play movies in the LRC (Learning Resource Center) and I have a weakness for dumb comedy.
I had an extremely busy weekend. Rumor has it that I was quite the lady's man. I was surprised when I heard who I had sex with. I know what I did and I hope the rest gets blown off as rumor. I also hope that I am able to keep the hormones in check so that people don't catch on that maybe there is some truth to the rumors. I am new to the role of "player" and keeping weekend plans straight (and women separate) maybe difficult.

Titles, Schmitles

I am becoming entirely to lazy about writing titles for my posts. I am in my eigth week of training as a 91W in the US Army, just became a certified EMT Basic, the only disappointing thing that has happened is that I was replaced as Platoon Guide (fired is such an ugly word) and moved back to 2nd squad leader. Life is (or should be) good. Why do I feel as if there is something lacking? Am I just lonely (I am kinda) or is my problem something else? Or do I need to suck it up grab my manhood and drive on? At the moment FIDO seems like the best option. Who needs time to think? Soldiers don't think they react. But I still haven't found what I am looking for and I won't for a long time.

Umm I have a lot to say but I have to be in formation in two minutes to get smoked, hardcore. (By smoked I mean that I am about to do a painful amount of physical training.) I won Junior Leader of the week; I am hearing form old friends; but that's all folks. Gotta go!.

Weekends Suck

The way my weekends have gone here at Fort Sam I should just stay home. I should stop feeling sorry for myself, but I seem to be the center of a vortex of uncool activity. I am hestitant to go into detail for legal reasons but I will say that I am going back to study treatment for (alcohol) poisoning and I am going to re-read the section in the OB/GYN chapter dealing with rape.
Very soon, (a week) I will be a nationally licensed provider of emergency medical care. I am doing all right in class, making good grades, but my social life thus far has been a disaster. Everything my friends said about women in the military has been true. STAY AWAY from military women. What amazes me most about the promiscuity here at Fort Sam is the ease with which people switch partners, transferring their affections effortlessly with minimal fuss. And marriage is merely an excuse to discourage suitors whose affections one doesn't enjoy.
I think I am going to try to be a good boy for now on :( .

Phase 5 at Fort Sam Houston

Did you think I had forgotten? Well, yes, I had. I am six weeks into Advanced Indivual Training as a "Health Care Specialist" in the Army and I am doing well. I just got some freedom back and I'll be able to make short postss if I hurry. I have a lot to say, but not enough time to say it. For instance, I could tell a hellacious story about the drunk girl who ended up in a hotel room with me Saturday night and how I woke up to find her half naked the next mornign but alas there is no time. Later maybe?

Graduation from BCT!

Free at last I am free at last! Well I am free till 2100 hours this evening. There is so much I could tell you about BCT that I could write a book, and maybe I will someday but not now. Right now am hogging my buddy's family phone line so time is short. I haven't posted in a while and posts will be slow in coming for a long time but they will start back up for my audience of one.

Letters from Army Reception
21:30 20030511

I am writing this letter by the light of a red-shaded flashlight over the noise of my bunkmates juvenile humor. I have been in Reception waiting for Basic Combat Training. (BCT) as a member of the 79th Platoon, in Bravo COmpany as part of Fort Jackson's Reception Battalion since...20030507 (Wednesday the Seventh of May in 2003 in Military Format). At the moment, I am endeavoring to hold my guts in as we imitate our favorite (i.e. most feared) female drill sergeants favorite sayings "drink water soldier! You are wrong!" I cannot tell you how funny these words are at 9:30 civillian time when you've been up since too early. (4:30)
Even though we laugh form the safety of our bunks, most of the soldiers in reception live in fear of SGT. Habersham. Never has so much authority been packed in so little a body. The woman is 4'11" tops and she has our strapping 6'2" PG (Platoon Guide) peeing in his army-issue brown tightie whiteys. I think her lack of stature may be the root cause of her ferocity. She's a busy woman who handles the paperwork for several hundred soldiers, so if you didn't se her because she's so short, or couldn't hear her because she's an itty-bitty woman, than well "You're wrong soldier! Drink water!"
Oh by the way, I nearly killed myself trying to break the base record for the One mile run in the Physical Trainig Assessment. (PTA?) I finished in 5 min 30 sec mainly because I believed the record was 5 min 43 seconds. I led most the race only to be overtaken by a brown blur (at this point thats all I remember) that had been dogging me the whore race. I am so pissed I got beat! :(
There is so much more I want to tell you, but every one around me is snoring, so it must be time to do the same.

Negative One Days and Counting

You may ask how I am posting when I supposed to be at boot camp or at least en route. Well, a funny thing happened on the way to Basic Training. What follows is the complete story of my adventure at the Dallas MEPS. (MEPS is where all new recruits are sent to have their paperwork processed. My best guess is that MEPS stands for Military Enlistment Processing Station. I suppose alternatively it could stand for Monster Engine of Pain Silo.)
Monday afternoon I moved all my belongings, save shoes, (don't worry I have no logical reason for leaving them. I just forgot as usual) back to my room at my parent's home. I have no intention of sleeping a single night in the room again but it costs less than storage. I left Walt, Jesse, and Chris with no formal or informal goodbye which I deeply regret. (Bye Walt! Bye Chris! Bye Jesse!) But, I was short on time; which is not even a valid excuse but an honest contributing factor. I moped around the house as my family readied to attend my little brother’s soccer game; I was puzzled about why there were no parting affections. My brother was leaving early to coach the game so he wandered in to say goodbye. He inquired about when I would be departing on Tuesday and I replied that I would be sleeping in the hotel that night and leaving the next day. “So this is the last time I’ll be seeing you?” he asked incredulously. I answered laconically; “Yeah.” He then gave me his tearful goodbye speech (without the tears) and told my mom the news. Simultaneously, Sgt. Anstey, my recruiter showed up at the door. I quickly scrambled to get ready and bid my family goodbye. As I readied to leave for the MEPS, I heard my father prepare to launch his tirade against the good sergeant for persuading his naive firstborn son to enlist in the army, “How many college graduates have you put in the army this month?” Sgt. Anstey deftly deflected my Dad’s angry and tearful query, “Why are you taking my son?” with, “Sir, I am not taking your son. He left on his own.” She calmly explained what advantages the army had to offer and why it wasn’t such a crazy idea. I don’t think Dad approves but he understands more now.
I actually slept that night at the Holiday Inn this time rather than staring at the ceiling and listening to my roommate’s snores. After getting up at too early in the morning, (3:54 in my case) I went to breakfast and boarded the MEPS bus. After arriving and sitting through processing, I had a break which enabled me to engage in conversation with a future Army linguist and a future fellow DIV (Drill Instructor Victim) who would be joining me at Fort Jackson for tortuous self-improvement at the hands of a frighteningly enthusiastic DI. We talked for four hours and it’s hard to say what topic we did not speak about. Before and after Sarah, the linguist, took her Army DLAB (Does it Look like i know whAt it stands for Buddy?) we explored topics including How the 7ft 6 in Sean Bradley (stick figure in the employ of the hometown Dallas Mavericks) could possibly have a normal love life with his tiny wife, the percentage of girls at Sarah’s high school who have been pregnant (more than 1 in 10!!), the importance of clean underwear when undergoing a military orthopedic exam in a room of 12 strangers (a careless recruit had poop stains a mile long on his white boxers. I held my tongue till every recruit waiting for a body fat test started snickering), female sexuality exams during physicals (the military has to verify that each female recruit is indeed female by examining her genitals. Apparently a few men got in as women…), the importance of a good sports bra (Sarah develops bruises when running without one for the same reason she can’t duck walk – big cozangas!), and my flawless eyebrows in comparison to the thick bushy thatches of hair that only slightly resembled eyebrows taped to the face of an Army Sergeant who worked at the MEPS (can you tell that I am jealous of anybody whose eyebrows are said to look better than mine? He looks like Droopy the cartoon character! My eyebrows are my secret beauty weapon!) The day came to an end when the MEPS misplaced some of my information and had to delay my departure till tomorrow morning. The delay was worth seeing the look surprise on my Dad’s face when he saw me sitting at the table at home again.
The story of my (mis)adventures Sunday night may have to go untold. It involves my buddy Jehon, the Navy Linguist; Jesse, my Marine roommate; gay men in Las Vegas showgirl costumes; freaky Goth girls; a Goth cross dresser; and a sultry club diva named Helena.
In what little time I have left, (hour, fifty minutes and counting!) I need to announce some changes that will take place on this blog. My brother will be editing the blog in my absence and I won’t be responding to email. I will still be controlling the blog in much the same way a mobster control his crime family from jail. I’ll also post an address where I can receive mail. The biggest change will be that I will stop self-censoring so much. Early on I realized that certain people I knew where reading the blog and I decided not offend these people. I don’t know these people anymore, so I am no longer worried about offending them. The problem will be learning to right naturally without holding back. It’s become second nature. Well I am done, done and on to the next one… (fans of the Foo Fighters know what I mean)

4 Days...

Wow, anybody wanna hang out? With 4 days to go before I jone the World's Greatest Army I find myself desperate for interaction with anyone I was even vaguely acquainted with. I am not nervous (yet) but I am a little desperate to party. I am trying to pack in everything I didn't do since high school into the last few days.

Six Days...

I find life to be very strange and new right now. I am really enjoying myself but I feel as if I am only dreaming and I'll soon wake up with a very sudden and violent start. The only thing that I might change is that I'd try to get more sleep, and I'd meet more eligible young women.

Seven Days and Counting!

Don't you love how I up and disappear every so often? I should have had something interesting to say in the past six days but I was also feeling lazy. Go figure. Over the weekend I did manage to score a 258 on my PT test. I rocked the house with a 12 min and 23 sec time in the 2 mile run. I can't help being proud of myself, especially since I hate running. In the meantime, I am busy squandering what little money I earned in the month of March and obsessing over "pimp juice".