So, I've been beastly sick all week.
I have come to the thinking that, given current or only recently past events (whatever they were), my perspective on the past is skewed enough that I can't properly compare what was with what is. I can have a rough idea of what was, and I can live in what is, and I may have a glimmer of an idea of what will be, but that's about it. So, while I loosely recall labeling a period in Sheridan as, "The sickest I've ever been," and I remember thinking on Wednesday, "This is the sickest I've ever been," I honestly can't tell you which was worse, or if there were others in between those two. Fortunately, I am not especially bothered by this.
One of my roommates was honestly convinced that I was going to die Wednesday night. She threatened to kill me in the morning if I did so. I told her that she'd be justified, and I wouldn't even seek legal retribution if she did.
This started with the flu shot. Predictably enough, I got a little flu the weekend after said shot. But my body proceeded to turn that into a little pneumonia. The sleep schedule for night students is mildly heinous, but usually not all that wretched. We go to sleep somewhere between the hours of midnight and 0200, and we're expected to be awake somewhere between 0800 and 1000*. But it's fairly normal to have some little two- or three- hour project in the middle of that, around. Those days, you sleep for two or three hours, get up and get into whatever uniform is needed, take care of what needs to be done, change back into sweats, and exhaustedly return to your rack.
*It should be noted, this is actually a little nicer than the rest of the base has it - they're on the 2200-0500 schedule. Mind, outside noise is secured during that time. Night students just condition themselves to sleep through nearly everything but a knock at the door and their cell phone. Loud roommates are a curse to them that have them; mine by contrast are lovely.
You can survive off this. You can even get a fair amount of learning and work done off this. But you will be emotionally ragged after about four days of it. You start breaking down. And then you start breaking down physically. You can feel that it's happening, but there's not a whole lot you can do about it. I knew I was sick, that there was junk in my lungs, and it was just getting worse. This week, I was skipping everything else I had to do (bare bones schedule: sleep, shower, class, repeat) hoping to hold the system together until I could rest on the weekend. If I can...just...make it...to the weekend...
I didn't make it to the weekend.
Now, you're asking, why didn't you go to medical before this? Because I knew that if anybody with a stethoscope and a modicum of expertise got a listen to my lungs, they'd slap me a Sick In Quarters chit before I could blink. And while that SOUNDS nice, if I take a night off right now, I likely lose my class.
My program takes a 2.5 year electronics program and stuffs it into just under 5 months. The result is that we cover about a week's worth of material every night. A new class starts every other week, and for the most part stays together until graduation. If you missed a week of class and couldn't make it up, your school administration would probably bump you back to a later class, too. But it's hard to start in a new class. You don't know anybody, and unfortunately, they already don't like you.
It's not just your imagination. Unless your gpa is one of the top in the class, you get along well with people, and you're fairly attractive, we subconsciously resent anyone new coming in. Because this is hard, and we've been through a lot together, and who's this guy who thinks he can just ride on how far we've made it? It stinks, it's irrational, but it's there. This philosophy starts in Boot Camp - you band together when everything's against you, and regard anything from the outside with suspicion. When you're forced to let it in, you don't really let it in, don't trust it, for a long time
So you try very hard to stay with your band. I am not the first one in my class to get sick. There were a good five of us who had some nature of the bug, one of the guys had a worse cough than mine, but if we could rest up enough, and our bodies could fight it off, we'd make it through this and still be with the class, still be among friends.
But I'm also trained for taking orders. So the two hit a compromise on my stubborn side - if three people, one of them outranking me*, told me to go to medical, I would. Well...my buddy Adam was first. Then my big Army brother (it's not that I forget that he technically outranks me. It's that I forget he's a possible factor in adventures like this.) Then one of the girls in my class that I really look up to. Well, blast.
*There's a difference between outranking me and being in authority over me. Students at my school are everything from E-2 to E-6, but because we're all in student status, the only ones with any authority over me are my class leaders.
Mind you, that day, I'd been informed that I looked like a)hell (multiple variations on this theme), b) the living dead, c) grilled ****, and d)"Not Mumm-Ra, but one of his acolytes." (This last required some research. I am not a better person for the experience.) High fever, ridiculously high heart rate, massive chills, and I could barely stand up. Yes, I'm still going to class, why do you ask?
So I came home from class around 2000. Went to medical the next morning (because the only option the night before was the ER, and while my roommate disagreed, I didn't think I needed THAT). And now I'm SIQ. Sighhhh.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
How do you feel?
"Okay, listen, in case I die..."
"Can we walk, and talk? 'Cause, in case you live, I don't want to be late."
-What Women Want
"Bring out'cher dead!"
"I'm not dead yet!"
-Monty Python
"You better walk the line or you'll be left for dead!"
Meat Loaf
"All around the city you see the walking wounded and the living dead!"
-Meat Loaf
I. Feel. Like. DIRT.
Joseph and I had a delightful (fever-induced on my side) text argument about the validity of the phrase, "I'll sleep when I'm dead." Commonly used in the military, brings hope to many on the lower ladders that there is a place and time where no one, not petty officer, not Commanding Officer, not another Battle Stations drill, will be able to wake them. At least, this is what I said.
I know I'm not actually myself right now, but I do recall at one point feeling so wretched that I didn't care if I did die, as long as there was some peace on the other end of it. I know, Bible teaches of what is to come for us, but when I'm struck down to the bare bones of what I am, there's a firm knowledge of God and how important it is to seek Him, and everything else gets kind of lost.
Don't know yet if this is going to get worse. Do know it's going to get better.
"I will not die; I'll wait here for you!"
-Three Days Grace
"Can we walk, and talk? 'Cause, in case you live, I don't want to be late."
-What Women Want
"Bring out'cher dead!"
"I'm not dead yet!"
-Monty Python
"You better walk the line or you'll be left for dead!"
Meat Loaf
"All around the city you see the walking wounded and the living dead!"
-Meat Loaf
I. Feel. Like. DIRT.
Joseph and I had a delightful (fever-induced on my side) text argument about the validity of the phrase, "I'll sleep when I'm dead." Commonly used in the military, brings hope to many on the lower ladders that there is a place and time where no one, not petty officer, not Commanding Officer, not another Battle Stations drill, will be able to wake them. At least, this is what I said.
I know I'm not actually myself right now, but I do recall at one point feeling so wretched that I didn't care if I did die, as long as there was some peace on the other end of it. I know, Bible teaches of what is to come for us, but when I'm struck down to the bare bones of what I am, there's a firm knowledge of God and how important it is to seek Him, and everything else gets kind of lost.
Don't know yet if this is going to get worse. Do know it's going to get better.
"I will not die; I'll wait here for you!"
-Three Days Grace
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Dietary Concerns
"Well, look at it this way. You're from Minnesota, right?"
"...right." Wondering where he's going with this.
"You guys have that salad thing with like two pounds of shredded turkey and ham on it, right?"
"Chef salad. It's usually less than two pounds. And I don't think that's just a Minnesota thing."
"Well, whatever. It's like that! You'd eat that, wouldn't you?"
"Mike, the argument is not about whether it's okay to mix kingdoms. The fact is that if I find a living critter INSIDE my apple again, I will react with startled disgust, and then refuse to eat the rest of it."
"I'm just sayin'. Protein and carbs. You're good."
"Mike, would YOU eat it?"
"**** no! I'm not into all that healthy ****. You know that!"
I hang around with a lot of guys (and one girl) who survive and thrive off straight junk food. (This is by no means the majority of the Navy - thanks to the requirements on us, most personnel exist in the "culture of fitness.")
The food on base is...um...suspect. There's food we're already charged for - if it's anything actually healthy, be suspicious of how long it's been sitting out and where it was beforehand. There are other food options, but as you're ALREADY paying for the one, most people prefer to go there.
By now my system is conditioned to a new level of fussiness - it won't tolerate junk food. I had three oreos and a chocolate chip cookie when I was home one afternoon, and everything was grumpy later. It WILL tolerate organisms from other kingdoms (animal, fungal) present in my food, that's more of a mental hurdle to get over.
I usually end up ingesting such things by accident. Once I realize the mistake, the reaction is no longer to fling away the offending article with a shrieking spasm, but just a resigned sigh. "Ah, man. I wanted to eat that."
Then again, I've been in for less than a year. The day could very easily come where I just won't care at ALL.
"...right." Wondering where he's going with this.
"You guys have that salad thing with like two pounds of shredded turkey and ham on it, right?"
"Chef salad. It's usually less than two pounds. And I don't think that's just a Minnesota thing."
"Well, whatever. It's like that! You'd eat that, wouldn't you?"
"Mike, the argument is not about whether it's okay to mix kingdoms. The fact is that if I find a living critter INSIDE my apple again, I will react with startled disgust, and then refuse to eat the rest of it."
"I'm just sayin'. Protein and carbs. You're good."
"Mike, would YOU eat it?"
"**** no! I'm not into all that healthy ****. You know that!"
I hang around with a lot of guys (and one girl) who survive and thrive off straight junk food. (This is by no means the majority of the Navy - thanks to the requirements on us, most personnel exist in the "culture of fitness.")
The food on base is...um...suspect. There's food we're already charged for - if it's anything actually healthy, be suspicious of how long it's been sitting out and where it was beforehand. There are other food options, but as you're ALREADY paying for the one, most people prefer to go there.
By now my system is conditioned to a new level of fussiness - it won't tolerate junk food. I had three oreos and a chocolate chip cookie when I was home one afternoon, and everything was grumpy later. It WILL tolerate organisms from other kingdoms (animal, fungal) present in my food, that's more of a mental hurdle to get over.
I usually end up ingesting such things by accident. Once I realize the mistake, the reaction is no longer to fling away the offending article with a shrieking spasm, but just a resigned sigh. "Ah, man. I wanted to eat that."
Then again, I've been in for less than a year. The day could very easily come where I just won't care at ALL.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
The Navy Ball - Tonight's the Night
The base provides a shuttle to the Marriott Resort for this event, assuming that a number of the sailors will be getting themselves moderately wasted and they'd really like to have said sailors back in the morning, or at least Monday. A number of students are spending the weekend there.
Also, by sheer, wonderful coincidence, my friend Carroll is going to be there. Carroll's been in Boot Camp the last two months, and was scheduled to graduate on the 8th. Unfortunately, he got beastly sick for the last three weeks, and one of those days cost him attendance to a more physical test he needed to pass in order to go through Battle Stations 21 (kind of the Boot Camp Final). So, we were sad, because his sister (one of my girlfriends on base) was planning to bring him to the Ball the night he graduated. By happy arrangement, he'd managed to get better and cram everything in by Thursday morning, call her, and graduate with his class that Friday.
Once-in-a-lifetime opportunity there. Stephanie and Carroll are as close as I am with my sisters, if not closer. She happens to be on the base that's right next to the base that he graduated from - in a week, he'll be on the other side of the country, in a few months, she'll be off to her next command. Yeah, you could go to the Ball with any of the guys who ask you, but boyfriends come and go pretty quick on this base, and this is a chance to go with your brother. So cool.
Carroll is a card. He honestly doesn't TRY to misbehave or be rebellious. He's just very creative. I may explain that further at a later date.
Brett is an artist. No, really - he's been in the Navy for four years, and every base he's been assigned to, he left a mural behind. He's the only person I know who's spent this much enlisted and never been on a ship - until he was reassigned to communications, he worked on a particular aircraft that's shore-based, which meant HE was shore-based. But painting is what really makes him happy.
Stephanie is sweet, kind, beautiful, and hardworking. She and J are the two lights that really shine among the girls in Sailors For Christ - but Stephanie's light is like a soft, white, constant, and J is a many-colored torch. That probably doesn't make sense, but it's pretty cool to see how they both lead.
I don't know how they see me - Brett thinks I'm pretty, and predicts that I will make history as a female Admiral and they will name a ship for me. Stephanie knows me better than a lot of people, but almost everyone on base sees me as being about three years younger than I am, and I don't know if she does, too. And, yeah, I'm really not sure WHAT her brother thinks of me, but it's clear that I'm Stephanie's friend, we became friends while he was in Boot, and I'm glad he's here. (That, and this is a totally awesome thing to do on your first weekend out of Basic.)
Watching the Navy band play made me tear up. I really miss making music.
I kind of felt a little awkward wearing my uniform - most of the girls were dressed up. (Stephanie had offered me a pretty dress of hers, but it was a lot more clingy and revealing than I was comfortable with...and I had no shoes.) But at some point, I don't know, it was just time to cut loose, forget worrying about it, and have fun on the dance floor.
And I'm glad we did.
I don't know how often I'll get to go the Navy Ball. (I DO know that, next time I go, I will wear a pretty dress - this staying in blues all night is clearly for the guys.) But it was very cool to get to go to this one, and I'm glad Brett asked me.
Also, by sheer, wonderful coincidence, my friend Carroll is going to be there. Carroll's been in Boot Camp the last two months, and was scheduled to graduate on the 8th. Unfortunately, he got beastly sick for the last three weeks, and one of those days cost him attendance to a more physical test he needed to pass in order to go through Battle Stations 21 (kind of the Boot Camp Final). So, we were sad, because his sister (one of my girlfriends on base) was planning to bring him to the Ball the night he graduated. By happy arrangement, he'd managed to get better and cram everything in by Thursday morning, call her, and graduate with his class that Friday.
Once-in-a-lifetime opportunity there. Stephanie and Carroll are as close as I am with my sisters, if not closer. She happens to be on the base that's right next to the base that he graduated from - in a week, he'll be on the other side of the country, in a few months, she'll be off to her next command. Yeah, you could go to the Ball with any of the guys who ask you, but boyfriends come and go pretty quick on this base, and this is a chance to go with your brother. So cool.
Carroll is a card. He honestly doesn't TRY to misbehave or be rebellious. He's just very creative. I may explain that further at a later date.
Brett is an artist. No, really - he's been in the Navy for four years, and every base he's been assigned to, he left a mural behind. He's the only person I know who's spent this much enlisted and never been on a ship - until he was reassigned to communications, he worked on a particular aircraft that's shore-based, which meant HE was shore-based. But painting is what really makes him happy.
Stephanie is sweet, kind, beautiful, and hardworking. She and J are the two lights that really shine among the girls in Sailors For Christ - but Stephanie's light is like a soft, white, constant, and J is a many-colored torch. That probably doesn't make sense, but it's pretty cool to see how they both lead.
I don't know how they see me - Brett thinks I'm pretty, and predicts that I will make history as a female Admiral and they will name a ship for me. Stephanie knows me better than a lot of people, but almost everyone on base sees me as being about three years younger than I am, and I don't know if she does, too. And, yeah, I'm really not sure WHAT her brother thinks of me, but it's clear that I'm Stephanie's friend, we became friends while he was in Boot, and I'm glad he's here. (That, and this is a totally awesome thing to do on your first weekend out of Basic.)
Watching the Navy band play made me tear up. I really miss making music.
I kind of felt a little awkward wearing my uniform - most of the girls were dressed up. (Stephanie had offered me a pretty dress of hers, but it was a lot more clingy and revealing than I was comfortable with...and I had no shoes.) But at some point, I don't know, it was just time to cut loose, forget worrying about it, and have fun on the dance floor.
And I'm glad we did.
I don't know how often I'll get to go the Navy Ball. (I DO know that, next time I go, I will wear a pretty dress - this staying in blues all night is clearly for the guys.) But it was very cool to get to go to this one, and I'm glad Brett asked me.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
The Navy Ball - Tizzy
I'll have to state this repeatedly, but Brett and I are friends. We're going to the Ball as two friends, and really the only reason that even suggests that it would work is because it's a military function and we're both military. We have a conceivable reason to show up there, and it's more fun to do something like this with a friend than alone.
Guys, this may not be clear to you. I will translate. If you're going to a dance, or a wedding, or anything fun and dress-up worthy with a girl, she is most likely going to think it's a date. Even if she asked you. Even if both of you have said it's just as friends. Even if she wants to think of it as just friends - unless she's really not attracted to you, and the only way you'll get that is if she spends most of the time there talking about some other guy. I don't think of Brett as a boyfriend, and I was excited about this.
Really, we just like to make ourselves pretty and be told that we're pretty.
As soon as Brett was gone, I shyly announced to Adam (possibly the only person on base who will ever see me acting shy, because shy normally gets you stomped) that I was going to the Navy Ball.
I got back to my barracks, and made a request to my two roommates, who spend far more time making pretty than I do, that they help me with my hair and makeup the day of the Ball. Excited squeals from the one, and an assured smile from the other - they've both regarded my dateless status with some quiet dismay over the past six months. (I'm just a little selective - my sister has expressed (with some hyperbole) a certain refined disgust with my standards. Also, I am in school. Busy busy.).
It should be noted; this is not my first element. Do I enjoy prettying up and being pretty for a night? Yes, actually. But it happens so rarely that I usually don't remember. MY first element is hiking boots, rugged jeans, and a hoodie, climbing over hills, trees, and leaves in the fall. Possibly running shoes and beating the trail. I belong in the woods, to my thinking, and require assistance for such affairs.
There was also a point of consternation when the date was clarified. Seems someone had set the Ball to be on Friday, not Saturday. As it doesn't start until 1730, this is only an issue for the 150-200 students in ET "A", and a scatter from ATT - there are no other night students on base. Brett at this point was on days, so I sadly admitted that he would probably have to ask someone else to go with him.
Well, he's having none of this. A week before the date, my instructor says he's 90% sure we won't have class that night. This is the Navy for you. We just kind of prepare for either possibility as much as we can. Brett and I actually haven't seen each other in about three weeks; most of our planning by this point has been by text, because I can jot something to him when I get home before bed, and he'll get it when he wakes up four hours later.
Days Nights
Reveille 0500 0900
Class 0700-1530 1530-2400
Taps 2200 0100
You see the problem.
Brett, meanwhile, has been given the royal runaround on the tickets - this is also Navy, or at least TSC, for you. Go to this office, to talk to this person, to be told you actually need to talk to THAT person in the third building, to go to that building, to find out they're closed, to return to your SDC and find that they told you wrong and never meant for you to end up on that side of the base, but by now the situation's changed and now it doesn't matter what they meant to tell you, because NOW they need you to go over here. He didn't mention this to me, which was an unfortunate glitch in communication, because the SDC in charge of this one was actually in MY barracks.
We've been told that, prior to the introduction of computers on base, all hands ended up walking more than five miles a day thanks to this sort of thing. There is NO driving from place to place here. Live-Ashores drive to the base, and park by their barracks if it's convenient, but if you're not injured and it takes less than forty-five minutes to walk there, you have no reason to drive.
Brett's a Fleet Returnee. This affords him more time to work with and much less hassle about needing a buddy to go anywhere. Brett's actually ignoring the status thing this time around - the fact that he has as much time in as he does, and I'm six months out of Boot Camp makes this a little like a senior asking a freshman to prom. We're the same age, but that's because Brett joined as soon as he was out of high school. He's passed the test to go to E-4 two or three times now, but advancement is based on how things are in your rate - if they're packed full enough that they're sending people to other rates, they're not going to be promoting. If he HAD made it to E-4, the two of us going to the Ball together would be a little sketchy - if he was E-5, it'd be right out.
Meanwhile, my nervousness is mounting. I was thinking that the Ball was going to be later in October - I've been planning a trip home for a friend's wedding, and was thinking that I could simply pick up one of my former prom dresses and shoes then. I honestly hate clothes shopping, and somehow keep having other projects crop up on the weekends when I could go.
My nervousness turns out to be for naught - the first part of the evening is supposed to be in dinner dress blues. Service dress, full dress, and dinner dress are all exactly the same uniform - the distinction is in how the decorations are worn. Any current photos of me in dress uniform are in service dress - full dress would be with the full-sized medal(s). Dinner dress uses miniature medals that have to be picked up separately, and the NEX is cleaned out of the particular one that both Brett and I need (he has four to my one).
Fun story there, though. We're perusing the shelves, and a very nice lieutenant overhears us. This is a fun bit of Navy culture y'might not see much of as a civilian: Officers are usually really nice. Higher enlisted will sometimes be jerks because they have to be - they're getting leaned on, so they have to lean on us. Officers are as separate from us as the people are from the giraffes in the zoo. And where a Petty Officer would probably have gotten on our cases about getting our medals earlier (I had gone earlier, and they were still out), this wonderful lieutenant said that she might have an extra in her car, because she kept all kinds of things in her car. And ran out to check.
This kind of stunned us. But, it ended with Brett having the proper medals, and me completely milking the bragging rights to the other girls out of his earshot - he has a rating badge as an AM (most of us are still in school, so there's no rate on our sleeves, just the E-2 or E-3 stripe), he has his medals, AND he has a hashmark on his sleeve (one hashmark = four years of service. At 12 consecutive years of good service, they turn gold). Yep, this is effectively the Navy Prom.
Even the day of, before we got the tickets (thanks to the royal runaround), Brett was asking me if I was sure I wanted to do this. Am I sure I want to hang out with Brett? Yes, absolutely. Am I sure about the Ball? Well...honestly, I wouldn't mind if it turned out we couldn't get tickets and we just went bowling instead. I'm fairly nervous at this point. But, I have also learned that when I'm terrified of something for no good reason, that's all the more reason to go do it. Brett's a good guy, we're taking the shuttle so driving's likely to be fairly safe, and while I could manage to fantastically embarass myself, nothing at the Ball is likely to mess up my life or my career. I might not get the chance to go to another one, as I'm on sea duty for the rest of this enlistment, so, I say, let's go for it.
Guys, this may not be clear to you. I will translate. If you're going to a dance, or a wedding, or anything fun and dress-up worthy with a girl, she is most likely going to think it's a date. Even if she asked you. Even if both of you have said it's just as friends. Even if she wants to think of it as just friends - unless she's really not attracted to you, and the only way you'll get that is if she spends most of the time there talking about some other guy. I don't think of Brett as a boyfriend, and I was excited about this.
Really, we just like to make ourselves pretty and be told that we're pretty.
As soon as Brett was gone, I shyly announced to Adam (possibly the only person on base who will ever see me acting shy, because shy normally gets you stomped) that I was going to the Navy Ball.
I got back to my barracks, and made a request to my two roommates, who spend far more time making pretty than I do, that they help me with my hair and makeup the day of the Ball. Excited squeals from the one, and an assured smile from the other - they've both regarded my dateless status with some quiet dismay over the past six months. (I'm just a little selective - my sister has expressed (with some hyperbole) a certain refined disgust with my standards. Also, I am in school. Busy busy.).
It should be noted; this is not my first element. Do I enjoy prettying up and being pretty for a night? Yes, actually. But it happens so rarely that I usually don't remember. MY first element is hiking boots, rugged jeans, and a hoodie, climbing over hills, trees, and leaves in the fall. Possibly running shoes and beating the trail. I belong in the woods, to my thinking, and require assistance for such affairs.
There was also a point of consternation when the date was clarified. Seems someone had set the Ball to be on Friday, not Saturday. As it doesn't start until 1730, this is only an issue for the 150-200 students in ET "A", and a scatter from ATT - there are no other night students on base. Brett at this point was on days, so I sadly admitted that he would probably have to ask someone else to go with him.
Well, he's having none of this. A week before the date, my instructor says he's 90% sure we won't have class that night. This is the Navy for you. We just kind of prepare for either possibility as much as we can. Brett and I actually haven't seen each other in about three weeks; most of our planning by this point has been by text, because I can jot something to him when I get home before bed, and he'll get it when he wakes up four hours later.
Days Nights
Reveille 0500 0900
Class 0700-1530 1530-2400
Taps 2200 0100
You see the problem.
Brett, meanwhile, has been given the royal runaround on the tickets - this is also Navy, or at least TSC, for you. Go to this office, to talk to this person, to be told you actually need to talk to THAT person in the third building, to go to that building, to find out they're closed, to return to your SDC and find that they told you wrong and never meant for you to end up on that side of the base, but by now the situation's changed and now it doesn't matter what they meant to tell you, because NOW they need you to go over here. He didn't mention this to me, which was an unfortunate glitch in communication, because the SDC in charge of this one was actually in MY barracks.
We've been told that, prior to the introduction of computers on base, all hands ended up walking more than five miles a day thanks to this sort of thing. There is NO driving from place to place here. Live-Ashores drive to the base, and park by their barracks if it's convenient, but if you're not injured and it takes less than forty-five minutes to walk there, you have no reason to drive.
Brett's a Fleet Returnee. This affords him more time to work with and much less hassle about needing a buddy to go anywhere. Brett's actually ignoring the status thing this time around - the fact that he has as much time in as he does, and I'm six months out of Boot Camp makes this a little like a senior asking a freshman to prom. We're the same age, but that's because Brett joined as soon as he was out of high school. He's passed the test to go to E-4 two or three times now, but advancement is based on how things are in your rate - if they're packed full enough that they're sending people to other rates, they're not going to be promoting. If he HAD made it to E-4, the two of us going to the Ball together would be a little sketchy - if he was E-5, it'd be right out.
Meanwhile, my nervousness is mounting. I was thinking that the Ball was going to be later in October - I've been planning a trip home for a friend's wedding, and was thinking that I could simply pick up one of my former prom dresses and shoes then. I honestly hate clothes shopping, and somehow keep having other projects crop up on the weekends when I could go.
My nervousness turns out to be for naught - the first part of the evening is supposed to be in dinner dress blues. Service dress, full dress, and dinner dress are all exactly the same uniform - the distinction is in how the decorations are worn. Any current photos of me in dress uniform are in service dress - full dress would be with the full-sized medal(s). Dinner dress uses miniature medals that have to be picked up separately, and the NEX is cleaned out of the particular one that both Brett and I need (he has four to my one).
Fun story there, though. We're perusing the shelves, and a very nice lieutenant overhears us. This is a fun bit of Navy culture y'might not see much of as a civilian: Officers are usually really nice. Higher enlisted will sometimes be jerks because they have to be - they're getting leaned on, so they have to lean on us. Officers are as separate from us as the people are from the giraffes in the zoo. And where a Petty Officer would probably have gotten on our cases about getting our medals earlier (I had gone earlier, and they were still out), this wonderful lieutenant said that she might have an extra in her car, because she kept all kinds of things in her car. And ran out to check.
This kind of stunned us. But, it ended with Brett having the proper medals, and me completely milking the bragging rights to the other girls out of his earshot - he has a rating badge as an AM (most of us are still in school, so there's no rate on our sleeves, just the E-2 or E-3 stripe), he has his medals, AND he has a hashmark on his sleeve (one hashmark = four years of service. At 12 consecutive years of good service, they turn gold). Yep, this is effectively the Navy Prom.
Even the day of, before we got the tickets (thanks to the royal runaround), Brett was asking me if I was sure I wanted to do this. Am I sure I want to hang out with Brett? Yes, absolutely. Am I sure about the Ball? Well...honestly, I wouldn't mind if it turned out we couldn't get tickets and we just went bowling instead. I'm fairly nervous at this point. But, I have also learned that when I'm terrified of something for no good reason, that's all the more reason to go do it. Brett's a good guy, we're taking the shuttle so driving's likely to be fairly safe, and while I could manage to fantastically embarass myself, nothing at the Ball is likely to mess up my life or my career. I might not get the chance to go to another one, as I'm on sea duty for the rest of this enlistment, so, I say, let's go for it.
Friday, October 8, 2010
October 8th
IT'S MY DAD'S BIRTHDAY!!!
And my half-birthday.
We have today off from school.
It's supposed to be in honor of Columbus Day, and we still spent five hours of the morning deep-cleaning the barracks (most of which we will proceed to undo over the upcoming weekend), but it is Fall, in October; a lovely, lovely day, and I hear there's a Ball tonight.
I'm freakin' out about that, but aside from that, life is good. :)
Also, Monday is Joe's birthday.
And my half-birthday.
We have today off from school.
It's supposed to be in honor of Columbus Day, and we still spent five hours of the morning deep-cleaning the barracks (most of which we will proceed to undo over the upcoming weekend), but it is Fall, in October; a lovely, lovely day, and I hear there's a Ball tonight.
I'm freakin' out about that, but aside from that, life is good. :)
Also, Monday is Joe's birthday.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
The Navy Ball
Someone's asked for more about Navy culture. I again remind everyone that I'm not yet in the Fleet; evidently this is comparable to cattle being raised in a barn vs. free-range on the hills. But, let's go for a saga on this one, and see what y'all care to pick up.
It started with the birthday.
Appropriate, as the Navy Ball is held every year in celebration of the Navy's birthday - October 13th, 1775. But this was Brett's birthday.
Brett and I were in Apprentice Technical Training together. He's an IC, I'm an ET, but all of us in Combat Systems have ATT in the same building, even if we're not covering exactly the same material. During breaks from stuffing our heads with CBTs (computer-based training - we started these in Boot Camp, still doing them in A School, likely be doing them as long as we're active duty), we started giving each other guff. Typical fast-talking, trying to pull the rug out from each other, constantly baiting.
Brett's been in for 4 1/2 years, which gives him a little more status. He came in as an AM, but six months before the end of his enlistment, the Navy decided that they had enough AMs (which can happen to any of us), and told him, "retrain or get out." Brett's one of the guys who wants to go career
The wacky thing about him is that he's actually a really good guy - but he never wants anyone to know it. You have to do a bit of digging and talk to the people who work with him to figure out what's real and what's just an act. He prefers to be known as an unpredictable wacky goofball, and affects a feigned air of hurt whenever I introduce him to a friend as "a good guy."
This may be because the Navy effectively eats nice guys...and girls, for that matter. I understand the distinction between "nice" guys and "good guys," but I do the same thing - in class, I'm a quick-talking smart-aleck, solid on my feet with any comeback, or at least remaining archley above the males and their shenanigans - a far cry from my previous identity, which would have been steamrollered here in short order. Brett and I still keep things light, never serious.
Shortly after I completed ATT ("comped") was Brett's birthday, and a number of us were celebrating at one of the two bars on base. This party ended up being me and nine guys - base population being what it is, this is not at all unusual. The bar was actually packed, and I was one of three women there. The guys were planning to head to the more chaotic bar after this one closed down, a location I make a point of avoiding, so Brett walked me back to my barracks.
As we're keeping it light, I don't say anything about how much I appreciate it, and he doesn't suggest that he's going to, just falls in next to me on my way out of the bar, and neither of us say anything about the girl who was attacked on base the week before by another sailor coming out of the bar. (It came out okay - the guy didn't realize that the petite little sailor he went after used to be a boxer in high school). We spend half the way back trading the worst pickup lines we've ever heard.
(It should be noted - Adam was also concerned about me walking back alone, and came from his barracks to escort me. Double-escort, make a girl feel special, chyah. :P)
So he asked, "What about this one: 'Wanna go to the Navy Ball with me?' "
I thought carefully, and said, "Nope. Never gotten that one before."
Now, it should be noted, posters about the Ball have been up since about April, but I (like most of my friends) had no intention of going, and little idea what exactly it was about. I don't know if it was Long Island recklessness, the interest in trying something new, the fact that I actually like hanging out with Brett, or some residual guilt over how many times I'd inadvertently stood him up before (we have very different schedules. It's hard to make anything work.), but I said something nonchalantly committal.
And proceeded to spend the next few weeks in a bit of a tizzy.
It started with the birthday.
Appropriate, as the Navy Ball is held every year in celebration of the Navy's birthday - October 13th, 1775. But this was Brett's birthday.
Brett and I were in Apprentice Technical Training together. He's an IC, I'm an ET, but all of us in Combat Systems have ATT in the same building, even if we're not covering exactly the same material. During breaks from stuffing our heads with CBTs (computer-based training - we started these in Boot Camp, still doing them in A School, likely be doing them as long as we're active duty), we started giving each other guff. Typical fast-talking, trying to pull the rug out from each other, constantly baiting.
Brett's been in for 4 1/2 years, which gives him a little more status. He came in as an AM, but six months before the end of his enlistment, the Navy decided that they had enough AMs (which can happen to any of us), and told him, "retrain or get out." Brett's one of the guys who wants to go career
The wacky thing about him is that he's actually a really good guy - but he never wants anyone to know it. You have to do a bit of digging and talk to the people who work with him to figure out what's real and what's just an act. He prefers to be known as an unpredictable wacky goofball, and affects a feigned air of hurt whenever I introduce him to a friend as "a good guy."
This may be because the Navy effectively eats nice guys...and girls, for that matter. I understand the distinction between "nice" guys and "good guys," but I do the same thing - in class, I'm a quick-talking smart-aleck, solid on my feet with any comeback, or at least remaining archley above the males and their shenanigans - a far cry from my previous identity, which would have been steamrollered here in short order. Brett and I still keep things light, never serious.
Shortly after I completed ATT ("comped") was Brett's birthday, and a number of us were celebrating at one of the two bars on base. This party ended up being me and nine guys - base population being what it is, this is not at all unusual. The bar was actually packed, and I was one of three women there. The guys were planning to head to the more chaotic bar after this one closed down, a location I make a point of avoiding, so Brett walked me back to my barracks.
As we're keeping it light, I don't say anything about how much I appreciate it, and he doesn't suggest that he's going to, just falls in next to me on my way out of the bar, and neither of us say anything about the girl who was attacked on base the week before by another sailor coming out of the bar. (It came out okay - the guy didn't realize that the petite little sailor he went after used to be a boxer in high school). We spend half the way back trading the worst pickup lines we've ever heard.
(It should be noted - Adam was also concerned about me walking back alone, and came from his barracks to escort me. Double-escort, make a girl feel special, chyah. :P)
So he asked, "What about this one: 'Wanna go to the Navy Ball with me?' "
I thought carefully, and said, "Nope. Never gotten that one before."
Now, it should be noted, posters about the Ball have been up since about April, but I (like most of my friends) had no intention of going, and little idea what exactly it was about. I don't know if it was Long Island recklessness, the interest in trying something new, the fact that I actually like hanging out with Brett, or some residual guilt over how many times I'd inadvertently stood him up before (we have very different schedules. It's hard to make anything work.), but I said something nonchalantly committal.
And proceeded to spend the next few weeks in a bit of a tizzy.
Mmmph. Morning.
If I could practice being kind to people in the face of exhaustion, to the point where the more tired I am, the nicer I get, and make that part of my personality - that alone could make all the physiological abuse of a military lifestyle worthwhile.
Had a watch today on two hours of sleep. My relief failed to manifest at the appropriate time. But Camp memories grab you sometimes. One of the big things that got me last summer was a conversation with Tails at breakfast, when he'd been up the entire night counseling a friend. He was indeed falling asleep on the breakfast table, but anytime anyone roused him because they needed something (or, y'know, they're kids, and everyone just loves Tails), he was kind, and did his best to engage with them. He didn't make a big deal about the lack of sleep - as far as I know, he didn't tell anyone but me.
So, I'm still tired. And I'm going to be running until Saturday night, it seems (Friday's going to be another short night). But I'm actually pretty happy. And if I could make this a regular practice, it might become a regular part of character. That's something that I can definitely see as a good trait to carry around.
Had a watch today on two hours of sleep. My relief failed to manifest at the appropriate time. But Camp memories grab you sometimes. One of the big things that got me last summer was a conversation with Tails at breakfast, when he'd been up the entire night counseling a friend. He was indeed falling asleep on the breakfast table, but anytime anyone roused him because they needed something (or, y'know, they're kids, and everyone just loves Tails), he was kind, and did his best to engage with them. He didn't make a big deal about the lack of sleep - as far as I know, he didn't tell anyone but me.
So, I'm still tired. And I'm going to be running until Saturday night, it seems (Friday's going to be another short night). But I'm actually pretty happy. And if I could make this a regular practice, it might become a regular part of character. That's something that I can definitely see as a good trait to carry around.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Bible Study
I've probably mentioned this about Adam before, but his parents alternate between being missionaries and pastors. When they're pastors, they're taking the marriage cases that are harder than what any of the other pastors know how to handle. Adam's grown up in this environment, but he wasn't really living God-focused until a few years ago.
I mention this to try to explain a little bit of what it's like being around him. I've said that his kids are going to have an amazing inheritance because of what he's learned from his parents. He's absolutely set on how God's going to lead, he makes an effort to find something to love in everyone, he's got a nearly perfect record on military things, and his big pet peeve is people trying to spackle up their lives at church (because we're supposed to be able to be real with the believers close to us - if we can't, it's a failure on somebody's end).
Occasionally, being around him drives me nuts.
Most of the time, though, he's one of my best friends. So, I got to hear this story.
There's a small Bible study that goes on (or went on) in the main lounge of his barracks. Adam's not usually there, but he was walking back one night with the guy who leads it. He's another student, barely older than me, just stepped up when it became apparent that there wasn't anything at this end of the base (we're the two furthest barracks - about a twenty-minute walk from the chapel if you're booking it), and he's been working on leading. And his heart's there, but he's struggling. Really struggling.
And at some point, he looked at Adam, actually tears in his eyes, and demanded, "Why aren't YOU there? You know this stuff! We need you!" And Adam was actually knocked speechless.
Tends to be how I'm feeling about a lot of this. Still, the only things I really feel at all qualified for involve kids (if you get cut off from music for six months, you've got some work to do before you can perform again). Every other skill I have, it's one where I'm ready and willing to help, but I can also think of a friend who's better at this, and would get the job done better. Not a down-on-self thing, but it's about getting the work done. I will work UNDER my friend, no problem - but they're more experienced, better at this - I'm on this because it needs to get done. And while I can't say it out loud, I still have that echo in here - turning to my friend, almost on the verge of tears, "Why aren't YOU here? You know how to do this better than I do! We need you!"
I'm still going to show up. Always. And I suppose you can argue that that's more helpful, willingness to work and learn over aptitude without willingness, but it just feels so much smaller. I KNOW someone who can do this.
I mention this to try to explain a little bit of what it's like being around him. I've said that his kids are going to have an amazing inheritance because of what he's learned from his parents. He's absolutely set on how God's going to lead, he makes an effort to find something to love in everyone, he's got a nearly perfect record on military things, and his big pet peeve is people trying to spackle up their lives at church (because we're supposed to be able to be real with the believers close to us - if we can't, it's a failure on somebody's end).
Occasionally, being around him drives me nuts.
Most of the time, though, he's one of my best friends. So, I got to hear this story.
There's a small Bible study that goes on (or went on) in the main lounge of his barracks. Adam's not usually there, but he was walking back one night with the guy who leads it. He's another student, barely older than me, just stepped up when it became apparent that there wasn't anything at this end of the base (we're the two furthest barracks - about a twenty-minute walk from the chapel if you're booking it), and he's been working on leading. And his heart's there, but he's struggling. Really struggling.
And at some point, he looked at Adam, actually tears in his eyes, and demanded, "Why aren't YOU there? You know this stuff! We need you!" And Adam was actually knocked speechless.
Tends to be how I'm feeling about a lot of this. Still, the only things I really feel at all qualified for involve kids (if you get cut off from music for six months, you've got some work to do before you can perform again). Every other skill I have, it's one where I'm ready and willing to help, but I can also think of a friend who's better at this, and would get the job done better. Not a down-on-self thing, but it's about getting the work done. I will work UNDER my friend, no problem - but they're more experienced, better at this - I'm on this because it needs to get done. And while I can't say it out loud, I still have that echo in here - turning to my friend, almost on the verge of tears, "Why aren't YOU here? You know how to do this better than I do! We need you!"
I'm still going to show up. Always. And I suppose you can argue that that's more helpful, willingness to work and learn over aptitude without willingness, but it just feels so much smaller. I KNOW someone who can do this.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
While I'm Waiting
I'm waiting
I'm waiting on You, Lord
And I am hopeful
I'm waiting on You, Lord
Though it is painful
But patiently, I will wait
And I will move ahead, bold and confident
Taking every step in obedience
While I'm waiting, I will serve You
While I'm waiting, I will worship
While I'm waiting, I will not fade
I'll be running the race, even while I wait
I'm waiting, I'm waiting on You, Lord
And I am peaceful; I'm waiting on You, Lord
Though it's not easy, no,
But faithfully, I will wait
Yes, I will wait!
And I will move ahead, bold and confident
Taking every step in obedience
While I'm waiting, I will serve You
While I'm waiting, I will worship
While I'm waiting, I will not fade
I'll be running the race, even while I wait
I will move ahead, bold and confident
I'll be taking every step in obedience, yeah
While I'm waiting, I will serve You
While I'm waiting, I will worship
While I'm waiting, I will not fade
I will serve You while I'm waiting
I will worship while I'm waiting
I will serve You while I'm waiting
I will worship while I'm waiting
I will serve You while I'm waiting
I will worship while I'm waiting
Waiting on You, Lord!
I will serve You while I'm waiting
I will worship while I'm waiting
I will serve You while I'm waiting
I will worship while I'm waiting
I will serve You while I'm waiting
I will worship while I'm waiting
-John Waller
-----
Also in my head when I hear this one, "I will trust You while I'm waiting." One of the harder lessons for me to learn when I was younger was, "Trust God's timing," and I still struggle with it. I've come to recognize these things in hindsight, that it WAS better this way, at this pace, but I have difficulty applying that to whatever I'm looking at in what I think should be the immediate future.
There's so much that I want to do after the Navy. My college plans are a big one, and the career to follow. Being back at Camp is another. There's a lot about my life that seems to just be on hold right now. I recognize that I'm training and learning, and there's a lot of this that will no doubt prove useful later on - but man, sometimes writing down what I want to be doing then is the only thing that gets me through another agonizing lecture.
Whatever I thought about bad instructors, difficult classes, or stressful schedules - cake, now. I might not have any of my credits transfer, but after "A" School, I am possibly equipped to handle the stress of going for my Masters while holding down a job, playing with three different bands, dating someone special, and taking care of two cats.
There's a lot back home that I miss, and want to start working on, experiencing, or re-experiencing, and I have to put it on hold for now. When I first heard this song, I played it about eight times over. The lyrics were exactly what I felt like, but much more encouraging. God didn't forget about me over here, and He was doing (and is doing) something big with all of this, though I don't know what. Serving while I wait might just end up being the 'theme' for the next half-dozen years. Not a bad focus.
I'm waiting on You, Lord
And I am hopeful
I'm waiting on You, Lord
Though it is painful
But patiently, I will wait
And I will move ahead, bold and confident
Taking every step in obedience
While I'm waiting, I will serve You
While I'm waiting, I will worship
While I'm waiting, I will not fade
I'll be running the race, even while I wait
I'm waiting, I'm waiting on You, Lord
And I am peaceful; I'm waiting on You, Lord
Though it's not easy, no,
But faithfully, I will wait
Yes, I will wait!
And I will move ahead, bold and confident
Taking every step in obedience
While I'm waiting, I will serve You
While I'm waiting, I will worship
While I'm waiting, I will not fade
I'll be running the race, even while I wait
I will move ahead, bold and confident
I'll be taking every step in obedience, yeah
While I'm waiting, I will serve You
While I'm waiting, I will worship
While I'm waiting, I will not fade
I will serve You while I'm waiting
I will worship while I'm waiting
I will serve You while I'm waiting
I will worship while I'm waiting
I will serve You while I'm waiting
I will worship while I'm waiting
Waiting on You, Lord!
I will serve You while I'm waiting
I will worship while I'm waiting
I will serve You while I'm waiting
I will worship while I'm waiting
I will serve You while I'm waiting
I will worship while I'm waiting
-John Waller
-----
Also in my head when I hear this one, "I will trust You while I'm waiting." One of the harder lessons for me to learn when I was younger was, "Trust God's timing," and I still struggle with it. I've come to recognize these things in hindsight, that it WAS better this way, at this pace, but I have difficulty applying that to whatever I'm looking at in what I think should be the immediate future.
There's so much that I want to do after the Navy. My college plans are a big one, and the career to follow. Being back at Camp is another. There's a lot about my life that seems to just be on hold right now. I recognize that I'm training and learning, and there's a lot of this that will no doubt prove useful later on - but man, sometimes writing down what I want to be doing then is the only thing that gets me through another agonizing lecture.
Whatever I thought about bad instructors, difficult classes, or stressful schedules - cake, now. I might not have any of my credits transfer, but after "A" School, I am possibly equipped to handle the stress of going for my Masters while holding down a job, playing with three different bands, dating someone special, and taking care of two cats.
There's a lot back home that I miss, and want to start working on, experiencing, or re-experiencing, and I have to put it on hold for now. When I first heard this song, I played it about eight times over. The lyrics were exactly what I felt like, but much more encouraging. God didn't forget about me over here, and He was doing (and is doing) something big with all of this, though I don't know what. Serving while I wait might just end up being the 'theme' for the next half-dozen years. Not a bad focus.
Fall! Again!!
I say again; I LOVE this season.
Let it be noted, I am in the minority on this. At least, on this base. It seems that between 65-85% of the student population hail from Florida, Texas, or California. I went to the galley tonight to meet my friend - I was wearing running shorts and a t-shirt. He was wearing jeans, an overcoat, and a stocking hat. I stood a four-hour quarterdeck watch this afternoon, and nearly every person who came in had something to the effect of, "*%$! it's cold!!" I got outside, and was so happy I had to run - this weather's perfect. I was thinking it'd be another case of northern-bravado, where I'd be acting like I wasn't cold while my skin turned blue, but this was actually great. Love this kind of weather. Makes you want to run five miles and then just stop and look around you, taking it all in.
And then wonder, "Where the heck am I?" :P
In months to come, I will be transferred to another command. The two most likely options from here do not have seasons. Virginia tries, all right, I understand, you don't have that much to work with. San Diego sneers at the concept of changing seasons. What nonsense. If you want winter, go up in the mountains. If you want summer, it's right here - much more convenient for driving, biking, and wearing cute little summer dresses in January.
They have a point. But I'm rather stuck on this business of Mother Earth changing her gown, as Charlotte says.
And I love Fall. Love, love, love. The air hasn't quite gotten down to "brisk" yet over here, but it's managed "crisp" a few times. I love the leaves turning, and the image they present scattered on the grass. Everything in me says that I should be wearing rugged boots, rugged jeans, and some fairly solid overshirt, and go clambering off through the woods. Even if it's just over to Quarry Hill on the breaks between classes - trees are where I'm supposed to be right now.
For now, I have to wear my digis, and keep my boots clean, and stay on base. In years to come, I will be deployed during this season at times, which means that I'll completely miss it (or see some very different translations of it), but the time will come, my friends. I will return, and possibly retreat back into the Bighorns (hello beautiful hiking!), and there will be falling leaves and the smell of fresh dirt and woodsmoke once again!
Let it be noted, I am in the minority on this. At least, on this base. It seems that between 65-85% of the student population hail from Florida, Texas, or California. I went to the galley tonight to meet my friend - I was wearing running shorts and a t-shirt. He was wearing jeans, an overcoat, and a stocking hat. I stood a four-hour quarterdeck watch this afternoon, and nearly every person who came in had something to the effect of, "*%$! it's cold!!" I got outside, and was so happy I had to run - this weather's perfect. I was thinking it'd be another case of northern-bravado, where I'd be acting like I wasn't cold while my skin turned blue, but this was actually great. Love this kind of weather. Makes you want to run five miles and then just stop and look around you, taking it all in.
And then wonder, "Where the heck am I?" :P
In months to come, I will be transferred to another command. The two most likely options from here do not have seasons. Virginia tries, all right, I understand, you don't have that much to work with. San Diego sneers at the concept of changing seasons. What nonsense. If you want winter, go up in the mountains. If you want summer, it's right here - much more convenient for driving, biking, and wearing cute little summer dresses in January.
They have a point. But I'm rather stuck on this business of Mother Earth changing her gown, as Charlotte says.
And I love Fall. Love, love, love. The air hasn't quite gotten down to "brisk" yet over here, but it's managed "crisp" a few times. I love the leaves turning, and the image they present scattered on the grass. Everything in me says that I should be wearing rugged boots, rugged jeans, and some fairly solid overshirt, and go clambering off through the woods. Even if it's just over to Quarry Hill on the breaks between classes - trees are where I'm supposed to be right now.
For now, I have to wear my digis, and keep my boots clean, and stay on base. In years to come, I will be deployed during this season at times, which means that I'll completely miss it (or see some very different translations of it), but the time will come, my friends. I will return, and possibly retreat back into the Bighorns (hello beautiful hiking!), and there will be falling leaves and the smell of fresh dirt and woodsmoke once again!
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